Chilean lake District Adventure

by Sue Carpenter

‘You didn’t train?’ Craig, a custom-home builder from Ohio who had spent the past few months pumping iron at his club or pedalling in front of the TV, was not inspiring confidence in me. Training for my activity trip in the Chilean Lakes had comprised a daily half-hour walk with my dog around a London park and the frequent hike up and down three floors to my flat.

Now, as we huddled behind the support van munching cookies to break up the gloom of biking in the driving rain, I felt under-prepared. Our group of six, including the guide, Alex, had met in Puerto Varas, adventure travel centre for the Lake District, a region of lakes and pastures, canyons and volcanoes, dominated by the spectacular snow-coned Osorno Volcano. Craig found a team-mate in Arnel from San Francisco, who took 6.30am aquarobics classes and biked for fun. The rest of us - Michelle, an IT consultant from London, and my friend Jodi, a psychiatrist from Toronto, were more desk than outward-bound.

The previous day’s warm-up hike up on the slopes of the Calbuco volcano had augured well, however. Whether the boys were taking it easy or my stairwell training had paid off, I trekked up the rocky hillside with relative ease. But today’s damp 46 km cycle ride on the main road around the lake was a chore, with little scenery to alleviate the tedium, since it was enshrouded in mist.

We soon forgot our woes, however, as we stowed the bikes at Ensenada and drove up to the mountain refugio on Osorno. Huddled around the wood-burning stove munching delicious empanadas - like steak pies - we felt like true explorers. We walked out into the swirling mists and up the steep slopes of volcanic scree towards the snowline. As we battled against the wind, the scudding clouds suddenly parted to reveal a dazzling sunlit glimpse of the cone, unbelievably close, in staggering golden 3D.

It was the first of several instances when the curtain of clouds would lift to expose the peaks of Osorno and the more distant Puntiagado, like some magical vision. The mountains often seemed to float above the cloud line in a mauve haze, Puntiagado the classic craggy pyramid with its fishtail peak, Osorno the gentle giant, sloping evenly into a rounded cone, like an iced bun.

The next morning dawned fine and we marched elatedly down the hillside before biking to Las Cascadas. It was a toughish 23 km ride, avoiding ridges and puddles, but, with a deep blue sky, air as crisp and clean as a linen sheet and the lake sparkling like the Mediterranean, it was a joyous day. We ended by hiking to the waterfall, spectacularly encircled by a double 360° rainbow. Traversing the icy river was one of many challenges to overcome, but our confidence grew as we confronted our physical fears.

For Jodi, who had survived a near-drowning episode in Hawaii, the white-water rafting trip down Rio Petrohué made her shriek with terror each time we were pummelled by surf. An experienced horsewoman, however, she shone the following day, horse-riding in the wild woods and canyon country of Calbuco. I, conversely, had refused to canter ever since falling off a bolting horse at the age of ten. Marcelo, our gaucho guide, was determined to change that. ‘Trust me,’ he soothed, every inch the matinee idol cowboy. ‘Just let your hips follow the rhythm of the horse.’

With that he raced off, shouting ‘Kick her!’ Infused with the spirit of the moment and the glorious national park opening up before me, I decided it was now or never. ‘Vamos!’ I cried, kicking my heels, and Dulcimea (my horse) sprang into motion, with me hanging on to the saddle. It was an exhilarating finale to a brilliant trip, enhanced further when Marcelo informed me I had been galloping. Who needs to train? You simply do it on the hoof.

Sue Carpenter is a freelance journalist, who frequently writes for YOU magazine.