A Short Trek In The Chilean Lake District
By Mark Garrod
No-one else got off the boat at El Rincon, and looking around, it wasn't really a surprise. A rickety wooden jetty dived immediately into the thick rainforest, via a single narrow path. As the boat captain pulled away from the shore and waved us off, the sense of relaxation we had been in slipped a notch or two with the realisation that we were now committed. Maybe it was our imagination that saw the look of half concern, half laughter in his face.
This had been (half) planned as the easier wind-down element to our trip to Patagonia, given we had already back-packed independently for 4 days in Argentina's Los Glaciares National Park and 7 days in Chile's Paine National Park, through very mixed weather. This 3-day stroll in Chile's Lake District, selected at random from a short selection in one of the Independent Travel guide's trekking sections, was our way of seeing this area first hand. Our route was roughly north, from El Rincon on Lago del Todos Santos, to Lago Rupanco, and the sketchy map and description in the guide was all we had. In retrospect, a little more research may have helped prepare us for what was to come, but we would still have gone for it.
The bus to Petrohue, followed by the last ferry boat to El Rincon, had left us with 1 ½ hours daylight on day 1. It took at most 1 minute of that time to realise that this was going to be a special trek. We were immediately plunged into the rainforest, with knarled old trees covered in moss and vines, with the odd part-clearing, allowing a profusion of flowers to grow, including yellow orchids and masses of fuschia. Above us, although impossible to see, birds sang their encouragement. We inched our nervous way across two highly dubious half-sets of jagged planks that passed for bridges in the parts; not for the faint-hearted. It took of all our available daylight for us to find any clearance remotely big enough for our tent. We spent the first night cosily pitched right under a heavily leaning tree. I had to admit to the odd wakeful moment imagining it was toppling straight onto us.
Day 2 morning was not exactly as advertised. "A steady walk up a valley, through dense thickets of bamboo, with occasional glimpses of the extinct volcano Tecigalupa on our left, leading to the Termas del Callao (hot springs) in around 2 hours", but only if you run with a full pack. It took us 4, and we were fit. We found the guardian and borrowed the keys to the baths, and the hot sulphurous waters sent us back into relaxation mode very quickly. Mislaying the path and ending up in dense bamboo one hour later managed to undo all of that, but given our lack of a decent map, absolutely no path signage, and the fact that very few people lived in this area, only one instance of navigational hiccup wasn't bad. At 4pm we decided to make a long day of it and head for Laguna los Quetros, a lake shown on the map and a full day's walking away! The bamboo forest led to the main pass on our route, then down to the Lago, reached by two very tired teddies that evening. The resident gaucho initially indicated a nice pitch for us to use, then had a change of mind and started explaining with gesticulations for effect that there were mad horses and cows in the area, and to sleep in an open area was dangerous. He led me to his proposed alternative, which unbelievably (for me at 9pm) was a thick bamboo slope at around 45 degrees. Either he was very truly concerned about his animals and our welfare, or playing one of his best ever jokes ever on us. The odd tear of frustration from Michelle and some arm-waving from me got us back to our preferred pitch, which was fine, apart from some loud munching close-by at one point during the night - I didn't get up to check it out. The only other sound we had was an amazing frog chorus to get us off to sleep.
Day 3 started with yet another blue sky, and some fantastic mist hanging over the lake. We were still in the forest until we topped out over our last ridge, and the landscape became more open, with the odd farm and clearings. Downhill from here it may have been, but only geographically. The sun and our flesh attracted masses of Tavanos, whose only interest was to gorge themselves on us. We learnt, after the event, that these black, hornet-sized biting insects only exist for about one month each year, and it was our month! They only live to breed, and they do that by biting, hence it was life or death for them, and just sheer hell for us, being so tasty and soft-skinned. Anyone seeing us marching across the clearings with two fronds each, waving them around our heads continuously, must have thought the sun had got to us as well.
We reached Lago Rupanca just in time to plunge in and cool off before we expired with the heat and lost the battle totally against the Tavanos. Down but not out, however. Our information was that a bus ran out from this valley from a place called Puerto Rico, but the few people we managed to communicate with all gave us different views as to where it went from, and when. The first village we found on the lakeshore, after 3 hours hot walking, was not the one we wanted, but we did get some comfort there. We struck up conversation with an English-speaking lady as we passed through the village - Puerto Rico was another 8km away, but the bus could pick us up only 1km further on. Of even more interest, she explained that the Tavanos have a sack of honey in their abdomen, which is their food for their whole lifetime. We also had a demonstration of how to squeeze the honey out of them; very tasty - revenge is sweet!
1km became 3, but at last we found the bus-stop, and a local suggested we camp on the beach and wait for the bus tomorrow morning. We were just out of the lake and drying off, having pitched our tent, when the bus arrived. Mad panic, but the driver was kind enough to wait for us before turning round and heading off in our desired direction. His conductor was even kinder, stopping at the next shop to buy at 6-pack of beers, one each for the driver, conductor and 4 passengers, including us. We travelled the 5 kms to Puerto Rico, and then learnt that the bus stopped here for the night. Our final challenge of the trip was to try and negotiate with the local campsite owner his suggested fee of £20 for a single night's pitch. We failed, so ended up pitching the tent in the bus layby - there was no way we were going to miss our bus in the morning, or we would miss our flight connections later that day.
We would recommend this trek to anyone with a sense of adventure, only do it in December or February.
