Photo Saturday: The Marble Caves

 Yup. Missed that "Friday" thing once again!

Back to Patagonia... Moving on from Patagonia National Park, we drove north up the Carretera Austral to Puerto Rio Tranquillo, where the Marble Caves (Cuevas de Marmol) are found on the shores of Lago General Carrera. We arrived at lunchtime after about 2 1/2 hours on the gravel of the Carretera, just in time to gobble our lunch and catch a tour.

The caves are truly marble, in its natural state, of course. As marble (metamorphosed limestone) is slightly soluble in water, wave action along the lakeshore for some 6000 years has carved out low caverns into which you can take a boat. It is possible to rent kayaks in the town for a multi-hour expedition, but as we didn't have time, we took the commercial tour in a small open boat. Sadly, the guide's constant stream of interpretation and information was all in rapid Spanish with no pauses, so I was able to catch only a bit of it myself, and couldn't pass any along to my companions!

All photos, with the exception of the two from the walk up the road, are by Dave Dempsey.

As we approached we saw a bevy of kayakers exploring the caves. They have an advantage, being smaller and more mobile than the power boats.

The lake is fed by the vast glacier fields of Patagonia, giving it the distinctive blue-green color that always indicates glacial silt. The silt may contribute to the erosion of the caves, though I believe they are mostly created by dissolution. 

They drive the crowded launches into several of the caverns as far as possible--not very far. The exhaust fumes made this part of the experience a little less wonderful than it could have been.

They call it the Cathedral, but I kept wondering if that was more like the back of the throat...

What follows is a selection of photos to show the beauty of the rock and the water. We weren't able to be there at the prime photo time (early morning), but it was still worth the price of admission.

If we'd had kayaks, we'd have been right in through there.

One sea stack had the most amazingly striped caves, and the best reflected light.

The tour place was at the bottom of a very steep, rugged dirt road (well, of course. Remember, the "main highway" at this point is also dirt). When it came time to get up the steepest bit, we decided the car had a better chance if some of us walked.

The photo doesn't do justice to the quality of the road!

But walking up the hill did allow us to enjoy the beauty of the lake and the sky.

 

 

The whole stop took less than two hours--the tour is an hour--leaving us time to stop in the town for groceries. We had heard from other travelers that we could find peanut butter in the stores of Rio Tranquillo, as well as another shot at some fresh stuff. Our last shopping had been in Chile Chico (at the border) 3 days before, and in that case we had missed the weekly delivery of produce.

Peanut butter AND some fresh stuff, and even a pastry or two... maybe even more exciting than the caves. Pictured: Tom Dempsey. I'm mostly hidden behind him.

 ©Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021

 As always, please ask permission to use any photos or text. Link-backs appreciated.

Photo Friday: Patagonia National Park, Chile

A year ago I was in Patagonia with my husband and brother-in-law. Part of our trip was a 10-day road trip through Argentina and Chile. I wrote about the early parts of that trip here and here. The center of the trip was Patagonia National Park of Chile, not so very far from the southern terminus of the Carretera Austral. Many of these photos are by Dave Dempsey.

Entering the park. Tom and I are rearranging the car in the background, to make room for one of the hitch-hikers hoping for a lift to the campground.

The Parque Nacional Patagonia has at its core the Chacabuco Valley, until recently one of the region's largest sheep ranches. It was purchased in 2004 by Kris and Doug Tompkins, to be re-wilded, then turned into a park under the control of the Chilean government. Doug Tompkins didn't live to see his dream fulfilled, but did get things well under way. His widow eventually negotiated the creation of five Chilean national parks through the-profit conservancy that owned the lands.

The park road is dirt, but may have been in better shape than the equally unpaved Carretera (Ruta 7).

The developed part of the park includes a beautiful stone Visitors Center, a very pricey lodge... and the very cheap walk-in campground, with shelters (handy, as those clouds produced rain). We spent two nights, so that we could do a very long hike.

Matching tents, and dinner preparations under the shelter.

As we started up the trail to the Lagunas Altas (High Lakes), we could see everywhere the impact both of the restoration of the landscape, and the careful thought Doug Tompkins put into everything from the campground and the lodge to the layout and construction of the trail. The resulting signage, for example, seemed very familiar to users of the US Parks.

Starting up the trail. It was 20 km, more or less.

The trail climbed in and out of the beech forests--very like those we'd experienced in New Zealand the year before--and despite the late-summer timing, there were some flowers as well as views.

Note the very abrupt tree-line on the hill in the background. Beech trees are apparently not good pioneers, so the forest tends to end abruptly, without adventurous trees growing above their mates.

After a nice stiff climb, we reached the high lakes, many of them in fantastic settings.

 

 

The lakes meant waterfowl. Dave was able to get several good photos of birds that are almost, but not quite, familiar.

These ashy-headed geese were among the most striking of the birds we saw that day.

It wasn't all about birds--we had several close encounters with guanacos, the wild camelids from which llamas were bred.

The guanacos were fairly habituated, or maybe they just aren't easily spooked, but a telephoto was involved here. I wouldn't want to get too close and find out what they do when annoyed.

What's not to love about a face like that? And get a load of the eyelashes!

We were footsore and happy to see our camp at the end of the day, but it was well worth the effort--to get there, and to hike all day.

Last light on an amazing landscape

 ©Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021

 As always, please ask permission to use any photos or text. Link-backs appreciated.

Photo Friday: Nahuel Huapi NP, Argentina

A year ago, we (my husband Dave Dempsey, his brother Tom, and myself) were in Patagonia with little thought of the global pandemic, let alone the rest of what made 2020 an awful year for me personally. It was a wonderful time. 

 Our first outing, while we waited to get a different rental car (the first one we were given wasn't cleared to enter Chile, and frankly we doubted it would have survived the trip), was an overnight hike to the Refugio Otto Meiling in Nahuel Huapi National Park, just outside of San Carlos de Bariloche, Argentina.

The heart of the park, and our main reason for visiting, is the Volcán Tronador.

Seen from the parking lot, the mountain reminds one of the volcanoes of Washington State--large and covered with glaciers.

The trailhead was accessed by a long gravel road, most of it under one-way controls--traffic uphill in the morning, down in the afternoon. We had to scramble to get through in time, and made a late start to the hike after the long drive.

The first few miles of the 8-mile, 3000' hike were through lowland forest, where we saw and heard many birds, none of them familiar to us.

Photo by Dave Dempsey

 A detour, which we followed on the way down the next day, takes the hiker to the base of some very tall falls dropping down from the Glaciar Castaño Overa.

Note the end of the glacier at the top of the cliff.
Photo by Dave Dempsey.

 Eventually the trail broke out of the trees and we began to see what we'd come for: mountains and glaciers.

The author on the trail. Photo by Dave Dempsey.

We were assured that the Refugio Otto Meiling slept 60, and that there was always space made for more if needed, so we were able to make the hike without camping gear, only sleeping bags. What's more, they served meals, so we only needed our lunch! As we slogged up the last mile or two we were grateful for our smaller and lighter packs.

The author approaching the hut area, perched on a ridge at the base of the glacier. Photo by Dave Dempsey

When we reached the hut, two things struck us. First, that it was very small for a hut that slept 60, and second, that there were lots of people and packs outside. We were to learn why.

At left above, Dave stakes out the spot for our gear.

The helpful people running the hut took our payment for food and lodging and showed us to the sleeping area in the attic. There were, indeed, 60 mattresses on the floor, wall-to-wall (yes, we counted). We were directed to three in the middle of the room. To get to and from our "beds" we simply had to step very carefully over and around the other sleepers. Not an ideal set-up for old people who have to get up in the night!

Tom Dempsey stands by our 3 sleeping spots.

Since by this time we were starved, none of the issues with the sleeping area mattered nearly as much as the fact that they served dinner...

Crepes with jam for dessert.
Photo by Dave Dempsey

 

... and beer! Not usually big beer drinkers, we nonetheless all enjoyed an adult beverage while waiting for our dinner.

Photo by Dave Dempsey.

The night wasn't great, but the setting was. We had no regrets.

Refugio Otto Meiling

©Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021

 As always, please ask permission to use any photos or text. Link-backs appreciated.

Photo Friday: Cueva de Las Manos

In February 2020--remember those days when we could still travel and move about?--my husband, brother-in-law, and I traveled through Patagonia. I'm starting to be able to go through those photos again and share some. I have used more of my husband's photos than I have in the past, in part because they are better than mine, and in part so that his talent can be shared.

One of our early stops on an 11-day, 1600-mile road trip on both sides of the Chile-Argentina border, was the Cueva de Las Manos (Cave of the Hands), a UNESCO World Heritage Site established in 1999. In a canyon carved by the Rio Pinturas into the basalt, a lengthy section of overhang (not really a cave) is covered with thousands of pictographs, primarily the silhouettes of hands.

The drive down Argentina's Ruta 40 over the Patagonia steppe felt a lot like driving minor backroads through the US Southwest. At least it, unlike the 17-miles road to the cave, was mostly paved (though we learned to read at least three different kinds of sign warning of potholes, some of them bad enough to require slowing to dirt-road speeds).

The tip-off that we weren't in Utah (besides highway signs in Spanish) was the fauna.

Guanaco crossing the road. These are the camelids from which llamas were bred. (Photo by Dave Dempsey)

Darwin's Rhea, a smallish version of the large, flightless birds endemic to South America (photo by Dave Dempsey)

At the end of the dirt road lay a visitor's center and a staff of multi-lingual guides to interpret and protect the site. We were the first visitors that morning and had a guide to ourselves. She had been an archaeology student before leaving university to work full-time at the Cueva de las Manos, and had just enough English to get the job done. She led us off down the roughly 1-mile trail to the cave, which is high on the banks about the line of green marking the Rio Pintura.

Photo by Dave Dempsey

As I have found with ancient rock art throughout the Colorado Plateau and beyond, it is humbling and moving to be in the presence of such ancient works of personal expression.

This panel includes one of the few right hands. Since the images were made by holding a blow-tube of pigment to the lips with one hand and blowing it over the other to create a stencil, most of the artists used their left hands as models.

The area was inhabited for about 8000 years, starting as early as 9300 years ago (dated at least in part by analysis of the organic compounds in the pigments). As a result some of the panels are palimpsests, showing the changing styles as well.

Over time, more images beyond hands crept in. Herds of guanaco and occasionally other animals may celebrate the hunt--or even in some cases, record where and how a successful hunt took place.

The cave, really more of an overhang, has protected the images from sun and weather through the centuries, maintaining the at times surprisingly vibrant colors. The zig-zags and dotted lines seen above are also common in rock art throughout the US, and are usually thought to represent rivers or routes through the land.

 

 

Like any wise travelers to such remote sites, we came prepared, and enjoyed a typical roadside lunch on the way back to the highway, in a canyon that felt very familiar and at the same time alien.

Our trusty rental, a small Volkswagon wagon.

Provisions--always essential--we also carried some jugs of water in these remote lands.

 ©Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021

 As always, please ask permission to use any photos or text. Link-backs appreciated.