Cascada de las Animas, Chile

A lot can be packed into a few days and still have time to relax in Chile. The flight to Santiago was uneventful. Saw two movies and decided I really do like the personal screens Northwest and KLM offer compared to the shared screens American had on the flight here. Having fewer movies still didn’t convince my body or mind to sleep, so by the time I got here, I was tired. Despite that, I went on two hikes as soon as I got to Cascada de las Animas. I’d arranged for a car to pick me up from the airport and take me about 2 hours southeast of Santiago to an area in the Andes that’s been designated as a natural reserve in preparation for rehabilitating injured animals then releasing them into the wild.

Upon arrival, I dumped my bags in my room and went to the reception to arrange for activities. The women at the reception had to call the manager, who I learned is from Alaska, now married to a Chilean whose family has owned the land and operated this resort for years. The resort, or what’s called an estacionnes here, is run on Chilean time. Manager Joe thinks somewhat like an American and somewhat like a Chilean. It’s kinda funny cuz you don’t know what to really expect based on what he says. One surprise I had in planning my activities was not that some were based on the participation of multiple people, but that I might not be able to do some of them because not enough people had signed up for them. The reason this was a surprise is the guide books talk about how busy Argentina and Chile are in January. It sounded like Italy in August where everyone goes on holiday. I didn’t want to miss what this area had to offer, so made lodging reservations well ahead of time, and did end up getting to do everything I’d hoped when reading about the area. That included two hiking tours totaling 3 hours as soon as I arrived (the first in my Birkenstocks if that helps give you an idea about “as soon as I arrived” means). Boy did I sleep well that night with the windows open. The next day I took it easier. I hiked a bit and did one zip line over the river. This zip line was “pequeňo” compared to what I did in Costa Rica, but that’s where the sport originated, and we spent the bulk of the day doing it.

Last night I had dinner at the hostel I’m staying in with a woman I’d met from Seattle. Christina had been to the local market and brought back some “umas”, a homemade Chilean corn dish. Very good. It went well with the naturally grown tomatoes and avocados. And for fruit, we just reached up and picked peaches and plums. As we were finishing, the caretaker of the hostel came in with his guitar and serenaded us with romantic Chilean songs, one even written by his grandfather about how he met his wife—city boy and country girl. Others joined us, and even treated me to a Cuzco Sour, a drink I knew I liked from Peru.

Today I went horseback riding with an English woman (Jessica) I met on my first trek. Her husband (Simon) doesn’t like horses so stayed back to pack. We actually went on the same trail we’d hiked two days before. How different it was to see the Andes from atop a horse, rather than looking at our feet to make sure we were on firm ground. It’s extremely dry here. So between that and knowing there’s limestone everywhere, you can imagine how treacherous the hiking can be. The horses were used to this terrain, making them extremely sure footed. We relaxed and enjoyed the views, at least until the way down. Leaning back was at least making us feel we were helping out the horses at least a little bit. We saw goats, the male stud for the farm, a pack of what the locals have inner-bred—pigs and wild boars (apparently a nice specialty that I’ll try if/when I see it on a menu) and a fenced in straw-colored puma.

After now having been on three treks of sorts in this dry dusty climate, it was time to try a water activity—white water rafting. I had to wait until the last day here to do it because that’s when a group of 45 Chileans arrived. 45 Chilean weekenders, 6 Chilean guides, 2 Chilean white water kayakers and 1 American. Now that’s being with the locals. It was fun to go down the class 3 rapids (5 and 6 during high water). We were told we’d have time to swim in what was said was 40 degree water (it was much warmer than that). What they meant was for us to slide out of the inflatable raft and hang on to it as it continued going down the river. Two from our raft chose to do so, and yes I was one of them. Oddly enough, a bit later, the same two ended up in the water again but not by choice. We all tucked our feet under the inflated seats, and that worked really well when weight was on them. The guy in front of me was large, so I felt very secure. I’d also noted he wasn’t exactly an athletic, so when he was lifted up by a wave, I quickly followed since my stabilizer had destabilized. We’d gotten great instructions before boarding the rafts, and even more when in the rafts which we then practiced, so I followed the instructions but before I could even wonder who/how I was going to be picked up, my raft was at my side. I was only submerged twice before that happened. Boy was I glad I’d scheduled a massage after the guide pulled me back in. That was wonderful. And now I’ve just finished salmon dinner crepe and am off to bed.