My semi last dinner in Santa Cruz, about 2 weeks ago, I was with Dom, Miguel (Doms friend from home who was here traveling for 2 weeks) and Liza, the girl from Ireland who came on the road trip with us. We were all talking on the way to dinner and somehow the topic of yellow fever came up. I think I might have brought it up because I was curious how many of them had gotten their yellow fever vaccination. When I realized I was the only one who hadn´t recieved my yellow fever vaccination I started to become extremely paranoid, became sick to my stomach, and felt as if I was going to throw up…I was sure I had come down with the symptoms of yellow fever and that this was only the beggining. Liza assured me, because she had seen me take my molaria medicine before we left the hostel, that I was only feeling ill because I had taken the medication on an empty stomach. I accepted this explanation for my what-I-thought was yellow fever symptoms, and continued on with dinner, which miraculously cured me of everything. I still delayed my departure to Villa Tunari for one day so that I could get my vaccination the folowing morning.

My first day at the refuge, after receiving my tour, Bosh showed up on the back of a motorcycle. Bosh is the English guy that we traveled with from Calama, Chile to La Paz, Bolivia. Bosh is working with Baloo the bear and is staying here for a month.

Its been about 2 weeks since my last post and this time its not because I have been moving too quickly…its actually quite the opposite. I have been waking up every morning for the past 2 weeks at 7am, eating breakfast before, the majority of the days, bringing buckets of bannanas up for the monkeys in the ¨monkey park¨. Upon arriving with the buckets of bannanas the following scene resembles something like the scene in Ace Ventura after he tells his landlord there are no animals living in the apartment. Monkeys come from all directions and jump on the buckets we are carrying, some taking more than their share and running off, and others grabbing a bannana and climbing up on my shoulder to peel and eat their breakfast.

The type of monkey that I am working with is a Capuchino monkey (Capuchin in Spanish). It is said that Capuchino monkeys have the intelligence of a 4 to 6 year old child. Just like a child they have short attention spans, they play with their food, show jelousy for attention, and some of them will whine for attention.

They will also do things such as holding the bottom of the broom as you sweep, pushing and pulling it, as if they were helping you clean. One of my first days here one of the monkeys urinated on one the benches in the tourist monkey park, where I have been working, so a girl I work with took a leaf off a tree and started to clean it up, but before she was able to come back with another leaf, the monkey had already retrieved her own leaf and was cleaning the bench herself….clever little things. Sometimes when they are eating, if you make a smacking sound to mimick them, they will offer you some of their food. More often than not, pretending to take a bite will successfully trick them, but sometimes they drop the food in order to find something else that may suit your pallete.

I had to start keeping my keys on a shoelace because they were almost about to break through the necklace i was wearing, since the monkeys are unable to bite through the shoelace they would often get frustrated and start banging on the keys. I started mimicking them when they were trying to bite through and, I guess, after seeing that my teeth were bigger than theirs, they would hold the lace taut with both hands and hold it up to my mouth to see if I might have a go at it.
I have also been doing my best to get the video footage I need to successfully make a documentary about the refuge. In doing so I have had the opportunity to spend some time with Baloo, the bear, as well as Sonco, the jungle puma . Baloo is an Andean Spectacle Bear who was captured from a dealer in La Paz who was planning to sell him right before the people from the refuge brought the police in to stop the deal. He can be about 1.5 meters high when he stands but he is only a year and a half old. Basically he looks like a big teddy bear, big teddy bear. One day, the volunteer that worked with Bosh didn´t come in, so I volunteered to walk the bear for a day. This is not when I captured the video and pictures because when working with a bear, this is pretty much common sense, you have to have your guard up at all time. One person would walk in front of Baloo while the person behind him held the rope. We would speak various word commands in spanish, such as ¨vamos chico, no mas chico, bueno Baloo¨, but im not sure if they had any effect on what he did. If the bear changed directions at any time on the trail the person who was behind the bear, now in front, would toss the rope to the other volunteer. A tactic that will not work once the bear gets any bigger because he is supposed to grow to about 2 meters when he is standing up. The bear, surprisingly, does start to trust his volunteers and Bosh handled him well. As you can see in the picture, Bosh can get him to stand up by motioning with his arms, then the bear walks over to him and Bosh would take him by the paws, being careful not to touch the bears claws (which dont retract, unlike a puma) and dance with Baloo.
A few days ago I got the chance to join a nice couple from Israel on their morning walk with the jungle puma, Sonco. They were very helpful in letting me know, from previous experience, when the cat was about to do something such as stretch or scratch his claws on a fallin tree which meant I was ready for every kodak moment. The cats, technically, are only supposed to meet someone new at the minimum of every month and many volunteers, if not working with a cat, never get the opportunity to see one, so I was very fortunate to experience walking through the jungle with one. If you two read this, send me an email at zacharyamorris@gmail.com so I can stay in touch and relay the video footage that I captured of the two of you working with Sonco because I have a lot of it.

The refuge had a community of almost 40 volunteers with people leaving every couple of days and new ones showing up randomly at the cafe (as did I) saying they want to volunteer. The majority of the group would have a beer at the cafe after work which was a rewarding beer after a 10 hour work day. The people that volunteered were all ages with a concentration of people under 30. Some people had been there for 9 months while others were just finishing their two week stay when I arrived. The volunteers were from all over the world, some off the top of my head are: England, Canada, Sweeden, Malta, Israel, New Zealand, Australia, Argentina. For the most part everyone got along well. I definately had to swallow a few words every now and then with some of the long termer´s ´I-have-been-doing-this-for-5-months-so-I´m- going-to-correct-you-and-order-you-around´ attitude, but other that I enjoyed myself. Depending on whether or not it rained (being cooler when it rained) the temperatures were in the 90´s Frnht. and the humidity was high. Every day I would put on pants and a long sleeve shirt (often the same ones) to go to work in attempt of protection from mosquitos and all the other infamous beasts, such as bora bora, a moth who lays eggs under your skin, or the ¨24¨ ant, who, when it bites you, puts your body out of commision for the following 24 hours. It didn´t matter how dirty the clothes were, they all felt the same after an hour in the sun so you had to pick your battles. And washing work clothes was a pointless task because with the humidity it would take days to dry and counting on two days of sun without rain was a pipe dream, so every now and then I bought some clothes from a second hand clothing store in town. Just to clear up any confusion, thanks to the guys at high country (a camping store in atlanta) who convinced me to buy the overpriced quick-dry underwear, I was able to wash them every night.
My two week stay ended yesterday and it was sad to leave the friends I had made and the monkeys behind. At the beggining of the two weeks, just as with any animal, I would be careful about how I acted around each monkey to avoid being bitten. By the end many of the monkeys would recognize me and I had learned how to handle/play with them.  Last night I said my goodbyes and a few of my friends walked with me to where, I was told, would be a good place to flag down a bus to have some beers with me while I waited,  which was a gesture that, though minute, meant a lot. There is no bus station in Villa Tunari and I was told my best chance was between 11PM and 2AM and also a few times in the morning but given that I have a flight on the 6th I didn´t want to take any chances in waiting until the morning of the 5th. I saw some Bolivians sitting with bags and asked them if they, too, were going to Santa Cruz. After their too much information answer about there had already been five buses come by going to Santa Cruz but they were full, I enjoyed one last cold beer with my friends. Before we finished the can a bus arrived and they agreed to bring the 5 Bolivians and the sole Gringo aboard. My price (the tiered gringo pricing system) was 50 bolivianos, about 6 bucks, and they had me sit up front in the passenger seat with one person sitting on the window in front of me who was working (they often had a runner to get out and pay tolls, register the vehicles at check point, etc.,) and about four people between me and the driver on sort of a stadium seating made out of the stairs leading to the rest of the bus. The 5 bolivianos who boarded with me all slept on the floor board of the hallway leading to the main seat and I think they paid about 50 bolivianos for the 5 of them which they so cleverly got out of paying in full because the bus driver didn´t have change for three 20´s when he dropped them off right outside of Santa Cruz. It took a while to fall asleep on the 6 hour bus ride because my nerves were a little high for sleeping with the guy stepping over me to go pay tolls or get a toll ticket what seemed like every 20 minutes. And every time we dropped someone off and I heard the cargo latch open, i couldn´t help but watch to make sure my bag wasn´t snagged (everything that meant anything was clutched tight in my arms as I tried to sleep, with my arms through the straps, so my bag in the back really didn´t have anything in it but clothes and toiletries-expendable items if I were to chose something to be robbed. I arrived early in the morning and took a taxi to the hostel I had stayed in previously, and tomorrow I fly to Buenos Aires.

After returning from Rurenbarque to La Paz I met up with Dominic 2 days later and we set out on another car trip from La Paz to Santa Cruz, through Cochabamba (Bolivia). Because I dont have many photos with my broken camera and I have been writing for some five hours today, I am going to leave the rest to your imagination.

I am in Santa Cruz at the moment and have made the decision to go back to Villa Tunari which is a small town between here and Cochabamba to work at a wild life refuge. http://www.intiwarayassi.org/home.shtml The minimum stay is 15 days so I am going to live there for 15 days and in the mean time I am going to make a video documentary (introduction) for their website, similar to the one done for hodr.org . I have been on the move for a while and i figured this would give me something meaningful to do with my video work, and I also think it would be cool to work with monkeys and film something other than scnenery. I will do my best to stay updated while I am there but this is the only air conditioned internet I have had since I left the apartment in Buenos Aires, so my contact will be short and I will do my best to upload pictures of the animals I am working with. Until next time…..

We got to La Paz and all went out for a night out.  We hadn´t booked flights to Rurenbarque but we knew Nick and Jess they were there about a day ahead of us so we booked a flight and when we arrived I talked to a number of different tour agencies and found which one they were on and booked a tour in which we could surprise them and join their tour. 

On the way to the boat ride we saw a sloth crossing the street (they are usually in trees).   A very rare sighting since some of the guides said they could do multiple tours and never view a sloth.  Our guide picked it up for good photo.

Also, the agency overbooked the tour they put us on we and so they had to get another boat to stay within regulation…I dont think it would have mattered if the federale wasn´t there. So Dakin and I volunteered to go on the extra boat. 

We ended up stopping at a bar on the river and, even though the Federale who came along for the ride said he couldn´t drink on the job, we talked him into to having a beer with us.  So the five of us all had a beer and some good laughs.

I  have a lot of good photos of gators but given my current camera situation I am not uploading them.  We met up with Nick and Jess at the place they took us to watch the sunset where which I got my tripod set up just in time to catch the last fifteen minutes of the sun setting.  That night we went gator searching where you can shine your flashlight and see an alligator 100 meters away.  Because Alligators are cold blodded animals they bake in the sun during the day and they all come out at night, so you could shine your light and catch four or five sets of eyes.

 When we returned the next day, Jess, Nick, Dave, and I booked a jungle tour which is different than Las Pampas.  Dave is another Australian who is traveling by himself and the four of us went on the one night jungle tour.  The tour was a overrated and sort of a let down after the Pampas tour, because we walked around the jungle in long sleeves and  pants and learned about the medicinal values of certain trees and plants.  Although I now know that my ninth grade biology teacher wasn´t making all of that stuff up, it really wasn´t that interesting.

Skipping a day now…we went from Uyuni to Oruro which is just a town that is basically one big market (the pictures messed up while uploading and now the battery on my camera is dead….and Its dead becuase I cant take pictures with it anymore for some reason so I havn´t been charging the battery) So moving on, the next day we decided to go camping at a lake which was supposed to have spectacular views.   Having gotten outdated information from guidebooks before I mentioned to Celine maybe we should check on it because her book is three years old but she simply replied that the lake isn´t just going to dissapear.  Well once we arrived in the small no name town which we would were supposed to get dropped off in by ¨Micro bus 23¨ and walk the rest of the 5Ks to the lake, we spoke to someone and realized that that is exactly what happened.  ¨El lago es seca¨, the lake is dry. 

Still determined to go camping we started our way up the nearest hill and didn´t make it  far before we realized we could walk for miles until we find flat ground and all of us had everything we owned (because we hadn´t been planning on doing a vertical trek, we hadn´t stored anything at the last hostel).  So we stopped! right above the town, blocked by a bunch of rocks and camped there. 

That night we made a small fire outside of the view of town and all crammed into Bosh´s tent later on.  At one point we were questioned by some locals (the house just below the rocks) about our prescence, but once we told them that we were just there to eat sleep and enjoy the scenery they followed by welcoming us and offering assistance if we were to be messed with.  They were just making sure we weren´t robbers looking to take the town in the night…the four of us dont exactly look the part.

After walking around in Uyuni for a little bit looking for a place to stay, we ran into someone we met in Salta, Argentina who gave us a good reccomendation of a hostel to stay in. We were relieved to be back paying $3 or $4 USD a night as opposed to the $20 - $25 USD we were running into in Chile (Chile is an expensive place to travel).  We went for a drink and then booked a one day tour in the Salt Flats which are supposedly the biggest and most amazing in the world.   We worked out a deal with the agency that we could watch the sun set on the salt flats and then return after that instead of staying at the touristy hotel in the middle of the flats that charged $50 a night to stay. We got some great photos on the flats, because they go for so long and flat you can have some fun taking some optical illusion photos.

When we were waiting for the bus to Bolivia we met Celine, from France, and Bosh, from England, who were both traveling alone. Celine barely spoke any English but she was fluent in Spanish so over the next 4 or 5 days of traveling together we frequently found ourselves having conversations in Spanish which helped us improve greatly. Its interesting having a friend whos only language you can use to communicate with is a second language for both of you. The bus ride to Bolivia was experience that we were somewhat prepared for and thought we mostly understood when we bought our tickets. We were to ride to the border and wait in the bus until morning when the border control opened. Then after doing one border control we would change buses, in the middle of the desert, and continue on to the next border control. He assured me that everyone on the bus is doing the same thing…which was true, but we didnt find out until later that people from the other bus may not be changing, thus leaving a shortage of seats…but Ill get to that in a bit. What we failed to realize is that the stop, for about 3 or 4 hours, was going to be at about 15,000 feet and the bus driver was going to be nowhere to be found. The bathroom is filled with gas tanks so they dont run out, and the door to outside was locked. Not only did I wake up shivering, to find Dakin doing the same with only the top of his head coming out of his shirt, but I also felt sick from the altitude as this time we had not chewed any Coca leaves nor did I drink enough water. I had to wake Dakin to help me pry the door open so I could go to the bathroom….Vomiting would have to wait because it was too cold stay outside, and I knew if I could get some water in the morning that I would be OK.

Once morning rolled in people started piling off the bus and getting breakfast. It seemed we had stopped at the bus drivers house, or an acquaintance, so that he would profit off the selling of breakfast as well as a warmer place to sleep. Once I drank a 2 liter bottle of water i started feeling better, which is a good thing because the next step was an adventure as well.

When we finally arrived at our mid-desert bus change we got off and all got our bags. Being cautious of how our bags were put (or if) onto the new bus, the four of us hung back until all of the luggage was put on. When I realized that everyone was pushing their way onto the bus I yelled to Bosh, ¨there must not be an equal number of seats¨ by the time we came to this realization it was too late. The assigned seating that we had on the first bus had not carried over to the second and I have no idea how they figure ticket sales because some families had mother and father with three kids across their laps occupying two seats. There turned out to be one open seat which we gave to Celine and the Dakin, Bosh and I sat in the stairwell to the bus.

We arrived in Uyuni all in one piece.  Five hours  without seats had our backs a little sore but the local Bolivians sitting around us seemed to appreciate our posistive atitudes about the situation (as if we had a choice) and were accomodating with giving us bags to sit on and making room for us to lean back.

I havn´t written for a while mostly becuase of a combination of things. Sometimes I have just been moving to quickly to spend a few hours uploading photos and writing and other times I have just been in places that were just simply too hot to sit at a computer for more than five minutes. But with that being said, i will try and bring you up to date on everything i have done.

When we arrived in Chile we decided to head to the Industrial town of Calama in order to pick up some things that we all needed which we definately would not be able pick up in the small touristy town of San Pedro. After purchasing all the things we would need for the rest of our travel: Molaria pills, tripod, tapes and chips for cameras, batteries; we rented a car a drove a loop around northern chile, (http://www.explore-atacama.com/eng/maps.htm) copy and paste this URL and check out our path. We started in Calama, cut the corner to miss Antofagasta, and stayed the first night in Mejillones. Nothing special, but we saw some cool little towns on the ocean including one that seemed desserted because they were all second, vacation homes. Check the photos for the one labeled ¨Hornitos¨.

The next day we stopped off at a beach to see if there was somewhere we could go for a swim and what we experienced next is difficult to describe in words. When travelling, it is always important to keep an open mind and be open to new experiences, but at the same time it is important to be on guard, skeptical, and untrusting of any locals you meet along the way. The kid that approached us when we got out of the car was about 23 or 24. They had been fishing for something called Lapa, which looked like a snail with a soft shell, i was unable to find a good description of it on the internet but have asked many Chilleans since then and they said they loved it. It was living and would grip to your finger if you picked it up, sort of resembled a snail with a soft shell. He asked if we wanted any and said he would cook it for us. I can easily speak for both Dakin and Dominic in saying that we definately did not want to try any but going with him somewhere to cook and prepare the food was an experience we did not want to pass up. The town we were in did not have any women and was filled with fishermen and drunks. The kid was very hospitable and warned us about his father, not becuase of danger but because he was embarrased about his fathers state of being, which seems to have been drunk for last few years of his life and was unable to even speak his own language clearly. The next hour we spent having conversations with the various people who were helping prepare the food, constantly keeping an eye on our car. To make a long story short, it was a pretty crazy experience seeing how these people lived and the food they dived for to make their money. We were definately nervous, but never felt in danger, so we stuck it out until the meal was made, acted like we were eating it, but tried to shoot for the onions instead, and got the hell out of there.

Later that day we watched and I filmed the sunset at another beech and then continued on to Tocapilla for dinner. The next morning we returned to Calama to drop off the car. Dakin and I had already booked our bus to Bolivia, Dom was staying to meet up with a friend who was flying into Calama, so we spent a few hours on the net waiting for our bus and that was when I had last written in attempt to catch up.

Our bus from Purmamarca to Chile involved climbing from about 6000 feet to a little over 12000 feet in just about an hour.  The rapid increase in altitude caused extreme nausea and the best way to soothe the pain is to partake in the local tradition of chewing coca leaves.  The effects of the leaves keep you from having splitting headaches as well as becoming so nautious that you would have to throw up, on a bus with no bathrooms.  The reccomendation of chewing coca leaves for altitude sickness first came from our Spanish tutor in Buenos Aires that assured us that it would be the only way we could travel at these altitudes without having time to acclimate.

We decided to go straight on to Calama instead of stopping in San Pedro, which is just a tourist town with expensive tours to view the dessert which we all saw on the way in to Chile. We decided to go to Calama, which is a shitty industrial town, but we all needed to buy some things that we wouldn´t have been able to get in San Pedro…..Tapes for video camera, tripod for sunsets, another sleeping bag…..and some other neccesities before heading into Bolivia where we weren´t sure we would be able to get anything we needed.

I am still behind on the blog, but the next city I get to Im going to do some serious cathching up, as well as a post or two from a friend we met along the way who keeps a pretty thourough journal.

until next time….

Purmamarca is a completely sureal town who is reffered to in our guide book with nothing more than a few sentences. It is known for the ¨Hills of Seven Colors¨ which surrounds it. The pueblo is no bigger than a half a mile by a half a mile. The next morning we woke up early to hike to the top of a hill and watch the sun rise over the city. It seemed almost as within the same minute that the sun peered over the mountains, that the locals poured into the street, all making there way to the central plaza to set up their stands for the tourist busses that would be rolling through for the rest of the day. Tourists come to Purmamarca to see the ¨hills of seven colors¨ and if it wasn´t for the tourists I am not sure how this town would survive.

After we saw the sun rise, we went for another short hike to get a better view of the mountains. When we returned from our hike I put on my running shoes and head out for a jog. The altitude definately got the best of me but I didn´t want to turn back so I made my way to the top of another rocky hill and took my time doing some pushups with a view.

The rest of the day we all just read and I wrote in my journal trying to catch up on the most recent events. We stayed there another night and the next morning I made my way up to a different vantage point to film another sunrise.

Later that day we caught a bus to Chile.

Equipo internacional is now reduced to three. Dakin, Dominic, and me. We would have been hot on Jess and Nick´s trail, but we ended up finding a way to get to Chile without waiting too long.

North of Salta is the province of Jujuy. Humahuaca is one of the northern pueblos in the Jujuy region. We arrived there after dark and took a taxi to a hostel. The altitude there is about 3000 meters (about 9000 feet) above sea level so the temperature at night is a little colder. We put on some warm clothes and set out to see the town at night. Chicken with cold french fries and warm beer made me feel like I was right back in college and had, once again, failed to pay our electricity bill on time. The little girl whos father owned the restaurant provided some entertainment with her persistent requests to have her picture taken. She kept saying ¨Saca un photo! Saca un photo!¨ Apparently she was under the impression that every Gringo that ate at her fathers restaurant carried a digital camera. In this case, she assumed correctly. She spent the next fifteen minutes snapping photos of us, whether we were looking or not, and giggling each time at the captured image on the display.

After dinner we walked around until we heard some comotion in the street and followed the noise. We knew the election was going on, but we never expected what came next. As we approached the crowd and had a good look at the man speaking we realized that he was one of the men we had seen on the campaign signs. He was running for the Jujuy province. He was speaking into a microphone, on a back alley street corner, at one o´clock in the morning with a band behind him.

¨Somos Argentina….We are Argentina! We are Patriots. I will give you protection with the police. I will protect you from AIDS.¨

When he finished speaking, he had a moment of silence, followed by a chant, and then the band kicked into gear when which his family joined him and they locked arms and did some sort of jig while everyone clapped in time to the music.

¨

The next day, we walked around town. Humahuaca is filled with cobblestone roads and adobe houses. We kicked the soccer ball, which we had acquired in Mendoza, around town, every now and then involving some locals in few back and forth passes. At 5 we took a bus south to Purmamarca.

Ok. I am still trying to catch up however am still trailing by about a week. But i have recorded everything as they happen in my journal and just tranfer to the net when we stop somewhere that has it.

Our first day in Salta we spent most of the time just relaxing, catching up on emails, and Dakin and I recapped our experience on the mountain. This is also when we took some time to sit down and look at what our next move should be. The next morning, at about 5am, Jess and Nick took off for a boarder town just south of Bolivia.

When our bus from the mountain finally made it back to the bus station (on Fiday the 19th), we all took some time to look around the station to see what company went where and how much everything cost. After talking to a few different companies we became frustrated becuase there was no comapany who could take us to all the places we wanted to go. We decided to rent a car. Because there were five of us, renting a car seemed to be the best solution because we could see everything we wanted to see and it would end up being cheaper as well.

Saturday. 20th. we woke up and while Jess and Nick went to pick up the car, Dakin and I went looking for somewhere to buy a rope to tie bags to the top of the car. Being caught up in the moment, as well as being in a race against time- the Saturday elongated siesta, I didnt realize that the place where I could buy “ropa” was actually a clothes store. Of course it is, because “ropa” means clothes, not sure how I missed that one, but I quickly realized my mistake. After a quick game of sherades we learned that the proper word sounds like “cuerda” for “cord”. Everything closed for siesta by the time we made this discovery. We ended up carrying the extra bags on our laps until we reached a mall where we were able to find a kit with webbing and a wench. PERFECTO!

Please bare with me on the lack of puntuation as every keyboard is different here and I can never figure out what to hit, example- i have to hit ctrl alt 8 to get an open parenthsis.

Because we never got around to doing any wine tasting in Mendoza, which is the popular thing to do there, we decided to try out a some wine on our own and check out a low key “bodega” -spanish for winery, right outside of San Juan. We had a few failed attempts at actually finding a bodega by following signs that may have been put up ten years old and were never moved, but we finally found one. We knocked on the door of a house, who had a small sign by there mailbox, and politely asked if we could try some wine and possibly buy some. She waved us in and started pouring wine into a little shot glass. We all agreed the wine was delicious and bought 4 bottles for our trip, as well as 2 jars of honey, and 1 jar of marmalade. The wine bottles were 4 pesos a piece, a little over a US dollar, and would probably go for about 20 US dollars if purchased in a stor in the States.

Our first night stop was Valle de Fertil. When we were pulling into our camp site we saw a group of girls all dressed up walking together. Dom was quick to the punch, “Donde esta la fiesta?”- where is the party?. They went on to tell us that there was a club right around the corner from our camp site. So we set up camp and Dakin, Dom, and I made our way to the club, the only club in prbably a five mile radius of this town.

Day 2-

Quickly after waking up we made our way to “Valle de la Luna”, “The Valley of the Moon”. There were some pretty incredible rock formations as well as a landscape that resembled the surface of the moon.

After we left the Valle de la Luna we drove through some very arid landscapes and it was at this time that I learned to drive a manual car, successfully, for the first time. As the sun went down, approaching Chilecito, we pulled over to watch the sunset and have a glass of our incredible wine we had purchased.

Day 3-

I awoke in a campsite that looked a lot less sketchy than it did when they woke me up, upon arriving, to set up camp. There was a pool which seemed clean and an also an excellent alternative showering, since there was nowhere to shower. Day 3 was a lot of driving becuase we hadnt picked up much ground in the past two days. We drove through a number of small pueblos (spanish for small town) and some detours that took us 100 km down dirt roads made for some excellent scenery.

Day 4-

We made our way to the Ruins of Quilmes. The Quilmes tribe resided there starting around 1000 AD and held there ground through fights with Incas and other tribes until, in 1600, the Spanish took over the city and deported the majority of the 2000 Quilmes Indians left to Buenos Aires. Other things we stopped to see on the way through the red cliffs to Salta included “El Garganta del Diablo”- “the throat of the devil” which was a narrow crack in the big red cliffs, and an amphitheatre where a band was playing. Both seemed more like tourist bait than natural wonders. Locals set up tables (with stacked rocks) and tried to sell their necklaces, bags, and rocks to those who stopped.

When we arrived in Salta, we found the hostel that sounded the best in our guidebooks. Nick and Jess took the car to the gas station (”Servo” in Australian dialect) to top off the tank and clean it out a bit. The company who had rented the car to us actually had an employee ride to Salta on a bus to pick up the car and drive it back to Mendoza. When the sneaky little shit, who had come to pick up the car, was checking the car to see if everything was ok, the radio magically stopped working from the second he set foot in the car. He put on a nice little show acting like he was trying to fix it by blowing out the head unit, but it wasnt until we decided to check the fuse that the radio miraculously came back to life. We assumed he had messed with the fuse when Nick and Jess had their backs turned becuase right when the correct fuse was pushed back into place, the radio started working as it had fifteen minutes before.

Total cost for our car rental, food, camping, and gas was 450 pesos per person, a little under 150 USD. This included the 100 peso feast we cooked when we arrived in Salta.

I must give credit where credit is due, and the only reason this website works and all the bells and whistles seem to never break down is all because of the efforts of my friend Ben Hanna, for i had no clue how to set up anything on here.  Ben just recently set out for an unknown period of time to travel around Asia and eventually teach some English. You can follow his journey at benhanna.com

The following post was written by both Zach and Dakin: 

We have a new addition to our crew. Dominic is from Switzerland and was teaching snowboarding in Bariloche but has set out to travel for a few months before returning home.
We were all very intent on doing a multi-day trek in the Andes, so we checked with a few different companies and found one company with a reasonable price and a guide who seemed very excited at the prospect of taking a group overnight for he had been doing mostly day hikes with couples and other, more touristy, type groups. Leo, our guide, was a 21 year old Argentine who looked like someone who knew the mountain like the back of his hand, and his enthusiasm even strenthened that perception.

The mountain range we were hiking in was known as the ¨Cordon de Plata¨, or ¨The Silver Range¨. Our plan was to start at an altitude of 2000 meters, and ascend to a cabin at around 3500 meters. The next day we were to summit the peak at 4200 meters and then make our way back down, however this is not what ended up happening.

The first 700 vertical meters was acsended briskly as it was through a valley with only a small incline. Upon reaching the col at the top of the valley we all added a layer as we were approaching the some clouds and the temperature was starting to cool down significantly. (definition of a col)

The next 1000 meters started out with some rather easy trekking across some rocks. Eventually, as we acsended higher, the slope became steeper, the rocks less stable, and the air thinner. We were told, from the top of the col that we had about two hours left until we reached the shelter; our guide was sorely mistaken. As the slope became steeper, every step had to be carefully thought out as an ankle could be broken or the weight of our packs could easily send us tumbling if we were to take a wrong step.

The distance to the head wall which we were ascending, seemed deceiving to say the least, every time we thought we had made significant headway, our feelings of accomplishment quickly dissolved, as the magnitude of the tremendous rock face looked as it had hours before. The thin air combined with the grueling terrain had us taking five minute breaks every 20 minutes, although it seemed as though we went for much longer before we had to rest. When we finally reached the steep headwall, we were all exhausted, but the bottom of the headwall was the just the beggining of the hardest and most frustrating part. Our attempts to ascend the headwall seemed futile as it seemed that every five steps sent us sliding back three. The rocks had become much smaller and the slope caused the rocks slip beneath our feet making us attempt to take quicker steps despite our exhaustion in order to make our attempts worthwhile.

Upon reaching the top of the headwall, four hours after leaving the first col, we all dropped our packs and quickly added a few more layers as the wind on the col had made the temperature seem as though it had droped significantly and once our hearts stopped pounding, our body temperature took a significant swing as well. Once we had caught our breath and snapped a few photos, we realized that our guide had dropped his pack and been walking around. When we noticed the blank stare on our young guides face, as well as the desolate landscape that surrounded us, we realized that the shelter we had set out to find was nowhere in sight and we were standing on a ridge at 3700 meters with only twenty mintues of daylight to spare.

When our guide realized what he had done a blank stare of guilt, embarrasment, and fear covered his face. He fell silent, other than his suggestion to walk along the ridge to see if we could find the shelter. He said nothing else for what seemed to be the next 12 hours.
Before the sun went down, Dakin stopped our guide and suggested that we build a shelter before people got too cold and all daylight was lost. Acting quickly we did our best to clear two platforms in which would be suitable for sleeping. We constructed makeshift walls around the cleared areas, by stacking massive rocks, in hopes that they would help protect us from possible wind gusts we would encounter throughout the night.  The following picture from the next morning of the platform we cleared out.

As the tents were put together, and dinner was cooked, Dominic offered us a bottle of wine that he had packed to surprise us with at the top. Unfortunately, Dom was feeling extremely ill from the altitude and was unable to enjoy the wine with us. Shortly after eating half cooked pasta, we crawled into our tents and into our sleeping bags to escape the cold. Due to the exposure of the ridgeline we began experiencing strong winds almost immediatley following our sad attempt at falling to sleep. Although we didnt speak a word over the next 8 hours, if we had wanted to, yelling would have been the only way to communicate due to the ferocious flapping of the tent fly in the 130 km per hour wind.

The next morning we quickly took the tent down, which took four us to hold down to keep the tent from blowing off the ridge, and started our descent in order to escape from the cold. What had taken us four hours to ascend, the day before, took us a little under an hour to descend by sliding down the snow filled section of the headwall and other parts below.

These events contributed to the positive experience had by all members of the group. Due to these circumstances we immediately  become trusting friends which lead to our decision to embark on our next adventure, only hours after returning from the mountain.

¨I distrust summaries, any kind of gliding through time, any too great a claim that one is in control of what one recounts; I think someone who claims to understand but is obviously calm, someone who claims to write with emotion recollected in tranquillity, is a fool and a liar. To understand is to tremble. To recollect is to re-enter and be riven…I admire the authority of being on one´s knees in front of the event.¨ - Harold Brodkey ¨Manipulations¨, a passage quoted in John Krakaur´s ¨Into Thin Air¨.

Although i have not been posting recently, I have been trying to take notes as well as discuss our experience on the mountain with the rest of the group. I have not yet had the time needed to write about our trek or the following events but I should have plenty for you by tomorrow night, and I will do my best re-enter how we felt during our experience on the mountain despite Mr. Brodkey´s claim.

Mendoza is a small mountain metropolitan town. The surrounding mountains cannot not be viewed from within the city, although buildings exceeding five sotries are few and far between, but from about an hour outside you can view many snow capped mountains, one of which is Aconcagua, the highest peak outside of the Asia (around 22,000 feet). Even though you can´t see the mountains from within the city, all of the roads are bordered with moats to handle the run off from the mountains in the summer time. Mendoza is very well known for the wines it produces in the surrounding vinyards.

Shortly after arriving to Mendoza we met Victor, who is from Ireland. Victor has been travelling the world for the past two years seeing the sights, surfing, and stopping to work for a few months every so often. Later that day we met Jess and Nick, a couple from Australia who have also been travelling the world on and off for the past couple of years. Nick is an independent contractor in the trade of building boats. The five of us quickly became friends and wasted no time making our way to the park for a few beers and some good times.  Yesterday we all went white water rafting and the last night we all went out to dinner to a steak restaurant where we also had some good laughs and had a taste of Mendoza´s great wine. Argentina is very well known for the excellent, as well as extremely affordable, steak dinners (or lunch). On thurday, Nick, Jess, Dakin and I are going to go on an overnight hike, where we should get some good views of the mountains and experience some high altitude trekking.  The peak of our ascent is going to be around 4000 meters (14,000 ft.).  Tomorrow we will spend making sure we have everything neccesary for the trip, and of course it is only an overnight trek so this will be a good trial so that we know what we will need for a multi-day trek in the future.

Okay, until recently I have been hesitant to speak about my plans because I was waiting to here about an opportunity doing some video work for Nike. A friend of a friend was kind enough to, after learning of my editing abilities, put me in contact with a Brand Coordinator at Nike with a very praiseworthy introduction. They have a need for video content collection and editing on the topic of running and soccer in Buenos Aires, or Argentina in general. This seemed like an opportunity of a lifetime for it combines my passion for travel and video collection as well as editing for something that would be used for not just my hobby, but instead for a Fortune 500 company. However, due to the undetermined starting point of various video projects, which may arise, I decided to start my travels and promised I would devote my undivided attention to any projects that need to be done when I return from my travels; wherever in the world those projects need to be done. My contact at Nike was very understanding and assured me that I need not delay my travels on their account and that he would keep me up to date with projects needed as they surface.

So, with that being said, I am ready to start my travels. When I planned to come down here, my friend Dakin had said he had a place for me to stay, and that he wanted to do some traveling around Buenos Aires, weekend trips and things of the sort. Within a few days of being here I discovered that Dakin wanted to travel extensively as well and decided to resign from his job as a private English teacher. This was a nice surprise, as when I arrived I had no one to travel with, but I knew things would work out for the best, as they tend to do when traveling without a plan. Now, for the past week, we have been planning our trip and have uncovered a number of places we would like to visit as well as some great volunteer opportunities we can participate in for no cost. Two opportunities that we have based our travels around are the wild life refugee in the Amazon in Boliva, and helping out with earthquake relief efforts in Peru. Other things we would like to do is to hike the Inca Trail to Machu Pichu, and do some trekking in the Andes Mountains. Everything in between is up in the air. The map below is a rough sketch of our travel path. The dotted line is a flight we plan to take from Lima, Peru to Rio.

Tonight we will start our journey with a night bus to Mendoza. Although the road ahead has many friends to be made and many great experiences, nothing can replace the great friends I have made in the past two weeks and it is difficult to leave them behind.

I will be sure to write when I get settled in at my next destinnation!

Sunday we went to the biggest futbol game of the year. This time we decided to sit on the side of the stadium with all of the houligans. Being the biggest game of the year, there was was much more chaos during the whole length of the game including thousands of balloons floating around the stands and a constant flow of confetti across the field as the game contiued on.Game Start Cheering. Soccer in South America is the only event I have ever seen where the home team fans explode into chanting and cheers at the very possibility of a player on the opposing team being hurt, and they continue to cheer as the injured player is carried off the field in the first aid cart. Again, at the end of the game we were forced to stay inside until the opposing team had cleared the stadium (and part of the city). Since they held us in the stadium for 45 minutes, with a baracade of 16 police (two rows of eight) officers in each portal to the stands, I assumed they are just giving the opposing team enough time to hail cabs and fill the busses, uncontested.

River Plate ended up beating Boca 2-0 in a big upset. Click here to see the highlights from the game.

Friday night we went to a party with some of Emily friends who were all Argentine. Although they were all Argentine, they all spoke English exceptionally well. One of her friends, Simon, had learned English by watching American movies and picking out phrases that would work well to express what he wanted to say. He explained to us that there are many expressions in English that express certain things better than he would even be able to express in Spanish, which lead him to result to English frequently among his friends to explain himself. Things such as “I am not in the mood” would simply be expressed “No” in Spanish; a few other ones were “not necessarily” and “that’s fair enough”. He assured us that if Hollywood was in a Spanish speaking country that we would already be able to speak the language.

Today we came back to Buenos Aires. We unfortunately had to leave on the nicest day yet since we had been there, but we are going to the River Plate v.s. Boca Juniors game tomorrow at 2pm, which is the biggest game of the year and we wanted to get back on time. While leaving Mar Del Plata we noticed that the beaches were filled with hundreds of people. It was only 60 degrees, so seeing the beaches this crowded at the slightest sign of good weather means that our guide book must have been serious when saying that on a summer weekend its difficult to take more than two strokes without putting out someone’s eye.

Yesterday, after making a decision to get out of the big city for a few days, Dakin and I went down to the bus station and got on a bus to Mar Del Plata.  We also have a friend here, Emily, who was kind enough to invite us and offer a free place to stay.  The bus system here doesn’t require a whole lot of planning being as there are a number of different companies that provide transportation to all the desired destinations, many of which go to the same places, so it is easy to buy a ticket and be on a bus within the next few hours.  We only had to wait 45 minutes and pay $15 for a five hour bus ride.  Not the best price in the world, but supposedly you get more bang for your buck the further you travel.  A few weeks ago Dakin went to Bariloche, a twenty hour bus ride, for $40.  These are no regular busses either, the seats go back almost all the way and little board pulls down from the seat in front of you to rest your legs on.

Last night when we arrived we all went out to dinner and then Dakin and I went out.  After waiting in line for a bar for a while we struck up a conversation, in Spanish, with the people behind us in line.  After speaking with them for awhile, waiting in line, they invited us to go find a another bar with them.  They were about seven college kids, all 22 and 23, living in Mar Del Plata to attend the university here, howver most of them were from other, surrounding cities.  For the next few hours Dakin and I both spoke only Spanish, which was great practice and we made some great contacts in Mar Del Plata.  They also invited us to a party on Saturday.  It is interesting how accepting the culture is here.