Submitted by Pat

Dawn came with sheep baaing, dogs barking, cows lowing, and some kind of bird screaming in the trees. I went to the farmhouse to use the bathroom then grabbed a cup of coffee, hot powdered milk, and sugar and went back toward the tents. I saw Nancy walking toward me and she asked, "Do you want to hear the bad news or the good news?" I said, "The bad news," and she said she couldn't find her camera. Her camera is a Pentax Optio 30, waterproof, lots of megapixels, and a gift from me to her last year. The look on her face said it all - she was devastated. I couldn't imagine her going on this trip without her own camera. Borrowing mine wouldn't cut it. She had been up half the night retracing her steps, looking everywhere. We looked some more together without success. While I was helping Don pack up the tent Nancy said, "I found it!" She had put it in her backpack. What a huge relief! Hugs and deep sighs all around. I was so glad because capturing these adventure images to share with herself and others is such an important part of her experience. I was soooo happy.

We did our final packing. Oh My God. We had our two trips packed in two separate suitcases and the more we learned about what we really needed for the Lakes trip, the more distressed and confused we felt. Everyone, including us, had gear strewn all over the driveway. The farmer, his wife, his sons, their wives, and various children and dogs all watching us and running around, adding to the confusion. Hiking boots, and backpacks, and clothes and this and that and what do I really need and will it all fit in my backpack. It was crazy. But we finally managed to pack up and load our stuff onto a van.

Breakfast consisted of scrambled eggs, chorizo, granola, and some kind of delicious sweet bread. Justin, Brad and Frank hopped into the van and left before the rest of us. The rest of us had to fit in the Earth River truck - 4-wheel drive with extended cab and back end with a roll bar. One person in front and three in back and the rest of us standing up in the back hanging on to the roll bar. A hour driving on a poor back road, dips and ruts and streams and sheep in the road and twenty gates to open and close before we finally got to the trailhead.

And that's where we were immediately set upon by horse flies. The web site for this trip said no insects, except maybe horse flies on one of the lakes. Hah! The farmer's son and his wife were saddling a strong of pack horses to carry our gear to the camp. As we figured out what to wear and bring for the five mile hike, Roberto was counting bags and horses and not coming up with a good number. Eventually he said there weren't enough horses to carry all the bags, so Nancy and I, tough old mountain climbers that we are, volunteered to hump our packs to camp. They weren't that heavy. It was hot though, so we unzipped the bottoms off our pants electing, despite Roberto cautioning us otherwise, to wear shorts.

So we loaded up and headed out across a boulder field to reach the first water crossing. Cold, fast moving, glacial water. Had we known, we would have brought our trekking poles. Instead we held on to each other and kept our feet pointed upstream to make the crossing. My new Teva Sunkosi river shoes did great and wearing neoprene socks did the trick, although our feet got pretty cold. Once away from the boulders, the hike itself was on a horse trail and was pretty rugged. Footing was sketchy and we found ourselves having to be very careful in our low cut Merrell's. More than once I tried to turn an ankle but never fell. All of us were having trouble with balance. I was so hyped up when we first started that I was shaking. Excited, I guess.

Eventually I settled down and found a rhythm. The flies were obnoxious when the wind wasn't blowing. There was a breeze most of the time and it became stronger as the hike progressed and the day got warmer. Most of the hike was flat, the dirt dry and powdery, but we did some climbing up a ridge above the Leon River that we were following. We definitely broke a sweat and started getting hungry - we had no idea how hard the hike was going to be and had nothing to eat to tide us over.

The trail, being primarily a horse trail, had a lot of low hanging pricker branches. Our legs got scraped and scratched until we looked like we had shaved with a brillo pad. We understood why Roberto walked in long pants and long sleeves. But it was too hot to wear pants and long sleeves. I don't know how he did it. What's a little blood among friends? We climbed and descended over rough trail, we crossed creeks and streams over logs - one of my most hated things. I hate crossing logs over fast moving water. Nancy started first but I could tell she was unsteady and urged her back. Kate tossed me her walking stick and I gingerly crossed. I was so relived to be across I nearly peed myself. Then Don went and then Nancy - this time was the charm. She crossed without a problem. But none of us liked it.

We finally arrived at the Lake around 2pm and didn't eat until around 2:30pm. We met the rest of the guides who had been out there for three days hauling food and equipment to the various camp sites we would be using. There was Eduardo, a PDH in Economics who threw it all away to guide technical rock climbing and mountaineering, with his great rolling Barcelona accent, and Christian, a physical therapist from Santiago who spoke very little English, and Juan, low man on the guide totem pole who did a lot of the cooking and fetch and carry, who spoke no English. The wind had picked up considerably and since we arrived so late there was no way to stay with the original plan to kayak for two hours to the real Camp 1 so we decided to camp where we were.

We stood around waiting for the horses to bring the rest of the gear so we could set up our tents. Roberto suggested a short hike up a steep hill behind the camp site. Curtis, Kate, Nancy, Don, Roberto and I headed out. The climb was ridiculously steep, not even on a deer path, and kind of dangerous. A slip or fall could have resulted in some major injuries. We went slowly and watched our step and made it up at last. The view was fantastic and well worth the climb, a stiff wind blowing with gusts to 30-40 MPH. Took some pictures and came down via a deer path - the way we should have gone up.

Once we had our tents set up, Nancy, Don and I walked to an overlook on the other side of the camp and sat for a while, admiring the view and talking. Dinner wasn't ready until 8:15 pr so and we were pretty hungry. We had soup to start - the taste reminded me of first grade in Northlands, a British school I attended when I lived in Argentina in the early 60's. Yum. The entree consisted of baked salmon (blech - I had a bad experience with salmon and now can't eat it at all), reconstituted mashed potatoes, and a salad of fresh cukes, tomato, green and red peppers, and onions. Cake rounded out the dessert.

Reflecting on the day, Don, Nancy and I all agreed that there was some real drastic communication disconnect between the home office (when you can get ahold of someone) and the reality of being in Chile. Turned out, this was the first Lakes of Patagonia trip Earth River had guided in quite some time. And it showed. Things were unorganized and the guides didn't take time to really talk to us about washing dishes, where to take a crap, what to expect, and on and on. Had I known that the hiking was going to be this rugged, I would have brought heavy duty hiking boots, poles, more of some clothes and less of others. Who needs a bathing suit with glacial water? Not me, thank you very much. We were feeling disappointed in the guides and their preparation, granted this was a very complex trip, and I had such high hopes. Don mentioned that the truth was that paying all this money to eat food he doesn't like, sleep in a tent that smells of mildew, walk hard miles in the wrong footwear, and deal with language barriers was really not his thing. At that point in time, Nancy and I were feeling somewhat the same.

At 9:30, with the sun still out, I crawled into our tent, exhausted.