South American Blunders

I am currently living and working on a little farm on a mountainside in El Bolson, Patagonia. The town, a 45min. walk from the farm, is a little, beautiful community that was founded by hippies in the 70´s and is surrounded by inviting, snow capped peaks. When I first arrived I stayed the night at a campside on the outskirts of town and the next day bought myself some supplies at the craft/food market here and headed to the foot of one of these mountainous playgrounds. I camped along the Rio Azul (blue river) and barely resisted jumping in the bluest of blue glacial waters I have ever seen. I love rivers but this thing is beautiful, surrounded by forest, and filled with great little nooks to rock hop, read a book, and drink a beer-simultaneously. I sat by my fire until late with an Argentinian couple talking politics and drinking wine and started up the mountain the next morning. The view, naturally, only got more and more spectacular and after 6 hours of uphill climbing I reached the Refugio Hielo Azul. Surrounded by forest and right on a little stream with a back drop of snowy mountains it was a great place to stay. That night I saw the most spectacular night sky of my life (which really is quite a statement) and slept well despite the cold. Camping outside of the refuges is illegal here but all the same they´re great because there´s typically no more than a small building, built by the employees from wood they cut and it´s only 5 pesos. I didn´t know and thus brought food for 4 days on my back but each of these refugios sells homemade bread and pasta and such. In the morning I somehow managed to get myself up and out of my tent at dawn to make the 2 hr. hike up to the glacier, as recommended to me by the Argentinians I had met below. I raced the sunrise, which kept creeping around the valley until it eventually caught up to me, and was slowed when I hit the icy snow. I had to kick footholds in and precariously traverse across the icy plain because if I lost my footing I would have slid very far and very fast into rocks with no means of stopping myself. The glacier was pretty unimpressive but the view was spectacular. On the way down, after making the poor decision to slide on my ass down to a patch of rocks (much pain, much ice in the pants), I mastered the art of skiing in shoes over ice. So much fun and damn I´m a badass. Back to camp, cup of coffee in the sunshine, and I headed down to Refugio El Cajon.
The hike that day was pretty brutal as I was traversing the mountainside and constantly found myself going up and then down and then up again. In the middle of a forest on a mountainside in Patagonia, far from people and gringos, I found something odd. Sitting on a stump, facing me and in pristine condition was ´The God Dillusion´...in English. It certainly wasn´t a coming to god moment but it was very odd, I haven´t started it yet but I expect it to unlock some sort of secret something.
El Cajon was equally beautiful and the next day I decided to stay an extra night. I fought my way upstream and spent the whole day fishing from a rock. At one point, fully clothed with a book, beer, and my kick ass fishing pole in hand I fell into the glacial water. The beer was lost but I managed to drag myself out of the water with everything else. Cold. So very cold. I laid out all my clothes in the sun to dry and then, of course, was seen butt naked by a few of the only backpackers in the area. No fish.
That night 2 really friendly Puerto Ricans came and shared my fire with me and a bottle of wine. Before long we were joined by about 7 Argentinians and it turned out to be a great night.
I descended the next day and caught a bus into town. By that evening I was setting up my tent at the farm and having been working there since then. I harvest various things and do some manual labor. I also am often charged with watching 1 year old Salamei. I´ve kind of fallen in love with her. 3 more days and I´m heading down to cold, windy Santa Cruz to work on the ranch.
Coming home is going to be hard.