After our several days of hiking in Glacier National Park (see previous blog), we took a bus about 50 km north to Lago Desierto where our adventure begins...We were surprised that all our fellow passengers (about 15 in total) on the bus and boat were 60 plus years in age. There was one particularly boisterous fellow who got the conversation going when he saw the huge bags we lugged out of the minibus and onto our backs to board the boat. When we told him and the others (in our broken Spanish) that we were planning to hike 6 hours over the border, they were thoroughly impressed and immediately adopted us for the next 2 hours. As we rode the boat across the lake, they had us point out on the map our exact route. Enjoying the
attention, we decided to ham it up a bit and went on to tell them about our year-long trip and island wedding. They LOVED it and got all excited and began sharing stories about their children and grandchildren getting married.When we got to the far shore of the lake where we would camp for the night before beginning the trek, they were delighted when we suggested a photo in front of the border guard station. They grouped around us and happily posed as the guards took numerous photos with ours and all of their cameras. Before we set off to make camp, each and every one of them showered us with hugs and kisses to say goodbye (some of the grandmas hugging and kissing us at least twice!). They called out over and over again as they walked back to the boat, "Suerte! Suerte!" ("Good luck!"). I think we made their day...and they certainly made ours!
We set up camp on the edge of the forest alongside the grassy paddock where horses were
grazing near the shore of the lake - it was picturesque. We made dinner on our little gas stove and then treated ourselves to some mulled wine...we had brought box wine, an orange, and cinnamon sticks to enjoy before our big day of trekking. Near dark, a group of about 10 Argentine guys showed up after having completed the trek around the lake and set up camp beside us. We shared some of our cooking gas with them and they gave us a quality dark chocolate bar as thanks. They were friends on an annual camping and hiking trip and were planning to stay to enjoy the lake for a day or two before heading back.Fairly early the next morning, we packed up camp and headed to the guard post to get our passports stamped before setting out on the dirt path up the mountain side. I was carrying about
45-50 lbs in my bag and Eric was shouldering 60-65 lbs on his back (he was of course a gentleman and took some of my weight!). After about 2 hours, we reached the official border line with the signs showing the boundaries for Argentina and Chile. We thought there would be a guard post here for Chile, but learned later it wasn´t until the end of the trek where we would officially check into the new country.Luckily, after the first major climb out of the valley, the terrain was relatively flat and easy until the descent at the other side down to Lago O´Higgins in Chile. I say flat and easy, but that would be without bags of bricks! We both weathered the walking quite well considering the
weight and actually made really great time...I think we just wanted to get there and get it over with! We did make a few short stops for lunch and quick 5 min breaks to give our backs and legs a rest, but otherwise it was onward march! The scenery on the hike was nice...some lovely lakes, wooded areas, valleys and a great lookout to Mt. Fitzroy miles beyond where we had been a day before. When we finally descended down to Lago O´Higgins we were VERY happy to hand the guard our passports and walk the last 15 minutes to the small estancia (ranch) along the lake.The family who owns the estancia were the original homesteaders years before. The daughter of the founder (a kindly woman named Justa) is now around 70ish and still keeps the place going
with her husband Geranimo and one of their sons Ricardo. They provide camping and lodging to weary travelers for a reasonable price and also sell home-cooked meals and bread. I was extremely happy when Eric decided our strenuous efforts should allow us to splurge and stay in the house for a bit extra. It never felt so good to take off our shoes and socks and enjoy a hot shower. After we relaxed a bit, we spent the evening in the dining room and kitchen area where the large wood fire kitchen stove provided warmth, a place to cook and bake, and even heated the hot water heater. The only other place I´ve used a stove like this is at our cabins in Wyoming´s mountains...but we were soon to discover that many people still have and use these stoves in Southern Chile.Justa spent her time doing household chores, cooking, making fresh bread (she taught me how), and tending to the needs of the several other guests as they arrived. Geranimo is not quite as mobile and seemed a bit grouchy at having all these tourists in his kitchen, so he mostly sat and observed or scowled from his chair by the stove. I made some attempts at conversation with him
and Eric gave him cookies and chocolate, so he warmed up to us after a bit. Ricardo, the single son around 40ish, takes care of the horses and livestock and also rents out their horses and his services to tourists who don´t want to carry their packs over the border. He arrived just after dark with a young couple from Norway and brought in a fresh cut of beef from outside for dinner. We learned that the other siblings in the family all live in the general area - one of Ricardo´s brothers runs another part of the ranch further away and the sisters are married and live in the tiny settlements nearby. They are a lovely family and their way of life is rustic and simple - we personally found it refreshing and wonderful. With the exception of a few modern amenities (e.g., a TV, a radio for communication, a washing machine), it felt like we were back in the Wild West 80 years ago.The next day, the once-a-week boat showed up at 1PM to take us across Lago O´Higgins to the tiny village of Villa O´Higgins (population: 500). The village is at the very end of the Carretera Austral - a long, winding, dirt road that connects the sparsely populated
southern part of the country with the more populated north. Most of the people in the village were relocated here after Chile and Argentina shifted the borders a number of years back. The inhabitants receive generous government subsidies and, as a result, are not the most motivated people you´ve ever met.We stayed at the El Mosco hostel´s camping ground, owned by a Spanish guy named Gorge who moved to Patagonia about 4 years ago and since has become the town´s local entrepreneur. He is quite the character - a bit narcissistic and money-oriented, but overall friendly and helpful. Gorge informed us on our arrival that we had four options to get out of town to travel north: 1. wait 4 days and take the weekly bus to the next "sizable" town 6 hours north, 2. hitchhike, 3. charter him and his van for an ungodly price to take us to a small town 3 hours north where there are more frequent buses, 4. wait 2 days and take the small, questionably safe plane. Since we couldn´t gather enough people to make chartering the van financially feasible, and the plane seemed a bit risky (plus, 4 fellow travelers gobbled up the remaining seats within a couple hours), we decided to try option 2 and hitchhike.
We got up early the next morning, packed up our tent, and went to post up by the only road out of town for our first Patagonian hitchhiking experience. Gorge had informed us the evening before that all vehicles leaving Villa O´Higgins must take a car ferry (that leaves twice daily) across a channel, so it´s really only worthwhile to hitch between 8-10AM and 2-4PM. We sat down by the side of the road, made ourselves bread and honey for breakfast and waited. As we sat patiently (with a tinge of boredom), we were entertained by a variety of 
local stray dogs (and a few horses) roaming about looking for food and testing territorial boundaries. But it was Sunday...and cars were scarce. We saw only a military truck, which refused to take us, and the neighbor whose truck was filled to the brim and packed with people. So we returned to the hostel to sit and read until the 2-4PM shift. But again, no luck...only a guy in a blue truck who passed us about 10 times, but never went more than 5 blocks from his house before returning, going inside, coming out and doing it all over again in a different direction. Very odd. So our hitchhiking adventure wasn´t much of an adventure at all and we went back to set up our tent for a second night.
Feeling a bit discouraged about hitchhiking, we decided the next day to join a few others on a couple day hike up to a refugio (i.e., hut) several hours into the nearby national park. This was a much better decision. The hike provided great views of the local area with lovely lakes, river valleys, forest and glaciers. The refugio was a simple log cabin with a make-shift wood stove made from a barrel, wooden table and benches, and enough floor space to sleep 6. We spent the evening enjoying the company of a Norwegian couple 
(Espen and Magni) and an Australian guy (Ralph) while cooking, reading, conversing, and huddling around the fire as it got dark and cold. The next morning, we opted not to do the several hour side trip to the El Mosco Glacier and instead headed back to town. I forgot to mention that I had taken my turn twisting my ankle after our border crossing when running from the estancia down to catch the boat. I´m not quite as tough (or motivated) to walk through pain as Eric did in Torres Del Paine...though I think he´ll agree that I was a trooper to do even the shorter trek to the hut.When we got back to the hostel, the five of us had the place to ourselves for our last evening. Gorge had left with the plane to go out of town for a few days and just asked his girlfriend to stop by and check on us and collect payment. So we all enjoyed long hot showers, cooked nice meals, did our laundry, and used the computer to check our email for free. Before bed, we stoked the wood fire in the living room, played Gorge´s eclectic mix of CDs and chatted as we sipped glasses of red wine and beer.
The next morning, we headed to the bus to begin our journey up the Carretera Austral...
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