El Ripio

Caleta Gonzalo – Chaiten, Chile

When our daughters were young – probably six and eight or so – I decided it would be a good idea to go on a Boundary Waters trip in mid-May with the kids and my Dad. Now, if you know the Boundary Waters you might know that mid-May is a pretty precarious time up there. You might get 75 and sunny. You might get 45 and rainy. Or you might get 25 and snowy. 

I’m not sure where Diana was – she probably had a medical conference in Arizona or something. The kids and I headed up to Duluth and picked up my Dad on a beautiful spring day; it was probably 75 and sunny. From there it was just a few hours to our entry point. I don’t remember where we went in, and it really doesn’t matter. We put in, headed across whatever lake we were on, and set up camp on the other side. 

I think we had a nice campfire dinner that night before we headed to bed. 

All was good. The kids were happy. Grandpa probably told a good story or two. It was shaping up to be a pretty nice weekend. We talked about all the fun things we would do before we went to bed.

But when we woke up the next morning the world had changed pretty radically. It was about 20 degrees, and it had snowed. When we peaked out of the tent the world was all white . . . 

I’m not sure we even tried to make breakfast. The kids were miserable. I was miserable. And my Dad, he didn’t even have long pants or a jacket. It was so nice when we headed in that he didn’t even think about bringing warm clothes. 

It took a few hours to take down the tent, pack up, and paddle back across the lake. I’m not sure Lauren stopped crying the whole time. She just kept asking for her Mom as she sobbed. 

Quite the ugly scene. 

So why do I tell you all this? You’re probably thinking it must have been quite the horrible day in Patagonia . . . No. Quite the opposite. It was maybe one of my favorite days ever. And I’ll tell you more about it in a minute. 

But the Boundary Waters from Hell Trip kind of hangs like a dark cloud over everything we do here. Because it kind of feels like we could wake up to rain and 40 (kind of the worst weather for biking) at any time. And then maybe we would be thinking about paddling to the car across the lake . . .

Of course, we don’t have a car anymore. They were all sold before we headed out . . . And even if we did, the car would be about 9,000 miles behind us. Not very useful, really . . .

But there are other alternatives. We met a couple from France today – William and Laure. They are traveling South America for a year – strictly by hitch-hiking. 

So there is that. 

Although Diana says I need to find a better razor, shave, and ditch my yellow headband and PoPo sunglasses if we want to have any chance of getting a ride. (For those who don’t know, PoPo means Grandma-on-the-mom’s-side in Mandarin. Diana has been teasing me that I look like her Mom – PoPo – when I wear those glasses.) But I’m pretty sure that with my boyish good looks we would find someone to pick us up pretty easily . . .

All this is really beside the point right now . . .

Because today was amazing. Blue skies. Warm sun. Crisp, but not cold. And Patagonia was incredible. Two snow-covered volcanoes and other snow-covered peaks. Mountain lakes. Gurgling streams everywhere. Beautiful mountains covered in lush foliage. Giant ferns. Hummingbirds flitting around. 

And we basically had it all to ourselves. It kind of reminded me of the day my friend Corey and I skied to Old Faithful and back from the town of West Yellowstone during Thanksgiving week. Took all day. Was super difficult. But we had the whole park to ourselves. Well, except we had to share it with the buffalo. But that’s another story . . . Bottom line – that was one of the best, most memorable, days of my life.

Now, it’s not like it was a walk in the park. The ripio – Spanish for gravel/dirt or something – started right from the tent. 

Oh, the tent. It was pretty darn cold last night. I had to get up a few times to put more clothes on. It’s weird. It’s not like we’re that far south. Latitude-wise were basically someplace in Iowa right now . . . Don’t think it gets down to 40 or so in Iowa in mid-September too often . . . But I guess there’s not a direct line to the Antarctic from Iowa . . .

Hopefully tonight ends up a little warmer . . .

The ripio . . . It was pretty nasty in some places. Big baby-head rocks. Ruts. Uneven. Just generally not super pretty. But the thing is, it was so beautiful all around us that I wasn’t paying that much attention. 

Also, I thought our new tires were a revelation. We have to pressurize our narrower tires so much in order to handle the loaded bikes that it’s basically like riding a covered wagon with wooden wheels. Like the reincarnation of Pa in Laura Ingells Wilder. I guess I’ve never understood the pioneer experience to be that comfortable . . .

But with the new tires things are much better. We’re not bouncing all over the place. We’re not sinking in in the softer spots. With some knobs on the tires we have good grip. It’s all good. 

Now, I think what made me think of the Boundary Waters story was a reader comment the other day. Jenny B wrote that the ripio was “another thing altogether” – and, I don’t think in a good way. Apparently Jenny and her husband brought their kids on to the Carretera when the kids were like 8 and 10. As I understand it, the kids were on tag-alongs. 

After riding just 22 miles of ripio today I must say that I don’t know how they did it with the kids. Super impressive. Because riding this stuff on our own as adults is a big challenge . . .

The crazy things parents do . . .

I am working on a few “improvements” to the bikes that might help when the rain finally comes. They pretty much all involve plastic pop bottles, zip ties and duct tape. 

Stay tuned. And it you know a good patent lawyer let me know. I figure I could make enough off of the pop jug fender thing alone to pay for the intitial investment in the mote business . . .

Look forward to hearing from you!

Postscript. The wind came up right as we sat down for dinner and it still hasn’t let up. Crazy gusts all night. Hopefully blowing us in the right direction today…