muddy footprints, Patagonian journey 9, sunrise over a mountain lake, blue lagoon, Lake General Carrera, Patagones, Patagonia, region of Aysén, Puyuhuapi, Puerto Cisnes, mountain pass, mud and oil, back to the beginning, Day 4, rain, joy, snails, road, feet

Muddy Footprints

Moving toward the climax of our whirlwind tour of Chile’s Region of Aysén, we continue to follow in the steps of the Patagones, South America’s “Bigfoot” people. With rain threatening for today, I’m pretty sure we’ll be leaving muddy footprints everywhere we go. But we awake to an almost-perfect, almost-summer morning at Mallín Colorado Lodge…

incomplete metamorphosis, Patagonian journey part 8, view of blue lake through tunnel opening, Marble Caverns, Marble Chapel, Marble Cathedral, unfinished story, work in progress, really made of marble, a change in form, transformation, Chile, Region of Aysén, northern Patagonia, Puerto Río Tranquilo

Incomplete Metamorphosis

Are they really made of marble? That question comes up as our tour group makes its way to the renowned Marble Caverns. Yes and no, the guide explains. It depends whether or not the process is complete. Sometimes it’s an incomplete metamorphosis. After our long Day 3 drive, it’s past mid-afternoon when we finally reach…

best or worst, Cerro Castillo mountain, Castle Hill, Patagonian Journey part 7, snowy mountain with zinc-roofed barn in foreground, Chilean Patagonia, national park, amazement and disappointment, Day 3 continued, Patagonian education, Red Hands archeological, Lake General Carrera, region of Aysén, Chile, Devil's Door, beautiful place

Best or Worst?

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times…” So Charles Dickens began his novel of the French Revolution, and at this moment, I honestly can’t decide either… whether this trip to northern Patagonia will turn out the best or worst time of my life. So maybe it’s not the best time…

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Women of the Wilderness

Will I be able to fulfill this ambitious agenda? I ask myself when the 6 a.m. alarm whines. After a fall a couple of evenings ago, I feel more like a decrepit gringa with delusions of grandeur than one of the intrepid women of the wilderness. I ache from head to toe before today’s leg…