Into the mud in Pali Aike, and more

Rainbow in Parque Nacional Pali Aike, Chile.

While I was a bit disappointed with Ushuaia and Tierra del Fuego National Park, there were many beautiful views as I drove to, and from Ushuaia. It was definitely worth the effort, very glad I made it to the "Fin de Mundo", but it was time to start the long journey north. On my way out of the park, I drove by a guy I recognized, and we quickly exchanged a wave and a smile; he was the Italian I had met in Porvenir a week or so earlier. I headed into town, stop at a bank (again, getting money in Argentina a challenge), look for ice, and stop at a grocery store. I got some cash, but no ice, and in the parking lot of a supermercado at the edge of Ushuaia, I met a couple from Alaska (really Salt Lake City, Utah, USA). They had rented a camper in Buenos Aires, four months for $14,000 USD, had driven south in Chile mostly, now were on their way back north to Buenos Aires. It was nice to chat. As a result of my stop in town, was a bit late hitting the road, back on Ruta 3, and only made it to Camping Hain along the shore of Lago Fagnano. Camping Hain is just on the edge of the small town of Tolhuim, and is an interesting place, another place recommended by folks posting on iOverlander. I met a wonderful young German couple in a rented RV, with a son who could not quite walk yet, but boy could he crawl. They would just throw him on the ground, and off he would go, like a bug, was wonderful. We talked (they were both teachers), drank some wine, and enjoy watching, and photographing, a wonderful sunset. Again, the joys of such an adventure are not just about the beautiful places you get to see, but also the wonderful people you get to meet.

The next day was a long one, and the weather later on did not help. I left Camping Hain pretty early, though did get to say a quick goodbye to the Germans, before heading back through Tolhuim to Ruta 3. And as is obviously a persistence and near continuous trend, I picked up two hitchhikers, a young French couple who had been on the road traveling for over a year. They were heading north, to Buenos Aires, after spending way too much time in Ushuaia trying to basically hitch a ride to Antarctica, which did not happen. We drove north, through Rio Grande, and then up to the border crossing at Paso San Sebastian, and back into Chile. It started to rain just before we crossed the frontier into Chile, and it never stopped. And oh, those countries in South America, they never cease to entertain me. After we left Argentina, we also left pavement, and even though this road is basically the main thoroughfare for people and trucks to get from northern Argentina to Tierra del Fuego and Ushuaia, the road is ripio, it is not paved. The Chileans are working to build a new road, paved, but for now, all Argentinians (and others) who want to drive to Rio Grande and Ushuaia, have to do so on ripio, just brutal. And with the rain, and the trucks, it was not a fun afternoon, we only made it as far as Cerro Sombrero. I dropped off the French couple, they were not finished traveling for the day, and headed into town, wild camped right in town by the main square. This is not saying much, as there is not much to Cerro Sombrero, but it was raining, I was tired of driving, and not much else mattered at that point. I cooked dinner, and chilled, and parking lot where I had settled was actually pretty busy, as the local gymnasium was right in front of the square, so lots of people coming-and-going, regardless of the weather. And also, got to love iOverlander and other overlanders; about 8:00 pm that evening, another rig pulled in beside me, EU plates, nice, new Fiat van. They spent the night beside, guess misery does love company, as it rained all night. 

The next morning, after getting diesel and food, got to stock up while still in Chile, headed for my last ferry ride, a short 30 minute trip across the Estrecho de Magallanes. It was still raining, and windy, and it actually seemed like a rough ride, but we made it. I then headed north, through Punta Delgada, and onto Parque Nacional Pali Aike. Although the rain had mostly stopped, the ripio back to, and into the park, was pretty bad, muddy and slick. It was shaping up to be an interesting afternoon, and evening.

Pali Aike is an interesting place, and a bit out-of-the-way, so the park does not get that many visitors. The park lies northeast of Punta Arenas, along the border with Argentina. There is a massive mine field along part of the road to the park, a remnant of difficult times in the past between Chile and Argentina. Most of the park is a large volcanic field, product of three eruptive periods, the last of which occurred between 16,000 and 10,000 years ago. Most of the craters are highly eroded now, but there are some nice hiking trails, Laguna Ana, and a cave, Cueva Palie Aike. There is really no official campground, but they do allow overlanders and people like me to stay overnight in our vehicles, near the trail head for the Sendero Crater Morada Del Diablo. I was kind of excited, as seemed like such a desolate place, no trees, only a few small bushes, rocks and the remnants of past volcanic activity. I did see a few guanacos, they seem to be everywhere in Patagonia. I headed down the road to the ranger station, a bit concerned, as the road was not good.

Got to the ranger station, and checked in. I met a nice French couple, he was actually working in New York City, and they were down in Patagonia for a quick, two week vacation. We chatted with the rangers, I expressed concern about the condition of the roads, one ranger asked if I had 4-wheel drive and I of course said no, the other ranger just smiled and said it was fine, and they open the gate and sent me off into the park. I started out behind the French couple, driving a small, rented SUV. They stopped to photograph a guanaco, I passed them, and then the road turned bad, and I mean really bad. The road was ripio, but really dirt, no gravel, and those fine volcanic soils just turned to ooze with all the rain, and it did not take long before all forward progress ceased. Me and my Sprinter were stuck. As the road was narrow, I pulled off as far as I dared, as I did not want to make things worse, sink up to my axles. Unless a ranger happened by with a 4-wheel drive pickup which everyone drives down here, I would be spending the night not in their camping area, but along the side of the road in the park. It was cold, it was windy, and it was desolate, not a tree in sight. There was not much I could do at that point though, it was late afternoon, I was at least 4 km from the ranger station, so it was best just to hang out and wait until morning. I knew the French couple was behind me, and also knew they were not camping so they would head out of the park, and they could inform the rangers of my situation.

The French couple did approach and stopped, we chatted, and they went on into the park. They still wanted to see something, even if the weather was terrible. Two other vehicles passed me on their way out of the park, both struggling in the mud. And around 7:00 pm, the French couple returned, heading out of the park and back to Punta Arenas where they were staying. We chatted again, I asked them to tell the rangers I was fine, but that I would need help getting out of the mud in the morning. The park closes at 8:00 pm. I would be spending the night in the park alone, along the side of a muddy road, just me and my Sprinter, or so I thought.

It was cold and windy, but the rain did stop, and a full rainbow appeared. I went for a short hike after having something to eat, but it was just raw out there, still windy even if no more rain. And the whole place was muddy, unless you walked on the lava rocks which were scattered about the landscape. I returned to van, snapped a picture or two of the sunset, and settled in for the night. Then, I guess it was a bit after 9:00 pm, twilight was fading, the wind had died down, and it was eerily still outside of my van. I was enjoying a glass of cheap red wine, and listening to some music with my Goal Zero portable speaker, just sitting in the van behind the seats, looking out the windshield of the van, when I sensed something. It was strange, but I sensed something, not sure what it was, but I had to take a look. Now my van is basically a cave, there are windows in the driver's compartment, windshield and the two side windows, but other than a skylight, that is it. I was sitting back in my cave, it was getting pretty dark in there, when I sensed something, so I put down my glass of wine, got up from my portable camp chair, and leaned forward between the seats of the van to get a good look out of the windows. And there, not 5 m from my van, right front corner, sitting there on the rocky bank along the side of the road, was a huge puma. Yeah, just sitting there along the road, maybe 15 feet from my van was this huge puma, and I mean huge, at least to me. I have seen bobcats before, but never a mountain lion or puma, but this animal looked to be the size of a female African lion, just seemed huge to me. And he was just sitting there, checking out the tree-less landscape which surrounded both of us. I do not think he could see me, as again, my van is basically a cave, and there were no lights on in the van (though my music was still playing). I slowly reached down and grabbed my Nikon which was sitting on the passenger seat in the van, check the lens and settings (put it on Auto, but did not check any other settings). I took a few photographs through the windshield, as I wanted at least one picture to show he was really there. That did not work great, so, moved to the back, and as quietly as I could, which is not really quiet at all, I opened the side, sliding door of the van. I figure as soon as the big cat heard anything, he would be gone, but that did not happen. He clearly tensed up as I hung out the side of my van to take a couple of pictures, with flash going off at this point. He slowly moved away, but then sat down again, I snapped a few more photos, before he finally ambled along the bank at the side of the road, and laid down behind the only little bush around. I thought about jumping out and following, got to try and get a better shot, better angle, but, I was worried about the mud, I had already totally muddied one pair of shoes, did not want to trash my only other pair. Yes, I did not worry about the puma, about providing some diversity to his diet, one has to tire of guanacos at some point, I was worried about getting my shoes muddy. Well, by then it was totally dark anyway, and I determined it was probably better to stay in the van, finish my glass of wine, and think about what I had just experienced, what I had just seen. I was just sitting there, drinking some wine, listening to some music as I watched the twilight fade along the horizon when I sensed something, and that something was a puma. I was stuck in the mud for the night along the road in Parque Nacional Pali Aike, but I was not alone, I got to see a puma.  

The next morning a ranger showed up riding a four-wheeler, and we managed to get me out. But, I had to drive to the end of the road, another 4 km or so, before I could turn around. The sun was out, but the road still sucked, and I was sure I would get stuck again. I made it to the turn-around, and then the ranger abandoned me on my way back, but somehow, I made it out. I stopped at the ranger station to express my disappointment (they should never have let me drive into the park), and to show the ranger my pictures of the puma. I then left Pali Aike, and while I saw virtually nothing of the park, other than the side of the road, I did see a puma, which was very cool. Next stop, another border crossing, hopefully my last, as I headed back into Argentina and north, towards Buenos Aires. I was moving north, and while I still had a few stops to make, most of the places on my checklist had been visited. And now, I had seen a puma, something I will not soon forget.

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