planBE

The year I turned 50. Technically I don’t « feel » different, but it’s a big new decade for sure. Aside from the mental and emotional impact of the pandemic, I also lost some significant people in my life and finally came to understand how finite my time is. And, perhaps more importantly, at least for those of us who always think we should be better, richer, thinner, stronger, fitter before we do THE thing … I chose to just jump off the cliff now while I still have four functioning limbs (and a brain) to do THE thing. One thing is for sure, time will not make us younger. Enter my 230 km horseback expedition across Alberta, and my 70 km horseback expedition to the bottom of Argentinian Patagonia. The trips of the outdoor « plumbing ». Neither trip caused me any significant pain in my left hip despite my concerns, and both delivered mega experiences. I learned how to dress for sleep when the temperature drops below zero. I learned how to pack my saddle bags for a long day without shade.

So our last weekend was a bust. The original plan was to fly to Cordoba, then drive to Villa General Belgrano (known for the largest Oktoberfest outside of Germany) in the foothills of the Andes mountains, with a day trip to pedestrian mountain village Cumbrecita … both towns known for their German heritage. I was looking forward to a relaxing weekend in the mountains with beer, sausage and schnitzel. A nice contrast to the beef, empanadas and cheese excesses of Buenos Aires. The AirBnB we rented was not great, better suited for young large drunk men needing space instead of comfort. It was made worse when the whole town shut down  at 6 pm  on Christmas eve with barely a stray dog stirring. We witnessed the shutdown shortly after the lamest lunch we have experienced, and started to panic as we had no food or water. We hit the last kiosko to close, and grabbed what we could to bunker down for likely two days (water, dulce de leche, coffee, tea, bread, ham, bananas). Is this our vacation

« Thats fresh puma shit » 😳 On our last full day at the final outpost, we brought the horses to the edge of the mountain, untacked them,  tied them to some bushes and trekked down some slippery cliffs to hike to the foot of the hidden glaciers. I was careful to not grab any of the bushes on either side of the cliff when I would slip as rocks rolled under my feet … because all the bushes had 2 inch thorns. Yikes! We hiked to a hidden valley of natural grasses punctuated by a large rock where we had a lovely rest and lunch, listening to the glaciers go ka-boom as they break off in the bright summer sun. This valley is part of a protected reserve in the Los Glaciares National Park that only allows a few visitors a day. The nearest dirt road is 20 km away. Best noone gets injured, as we have no way to call for help. There is no cell phone service, no forest ranger. And there are pumas in those hills.  We crossed the Rios Frias, tossing our boots and crossing the glacial river over slipper