Rio Negro/Chubut

The people at home always demand to be told all about the extraordinary adventures you had and if you show them pictures because you don't know what to say, they will be disappointed and tell you it's too bad you didn't take more pictures of "the city" and that "your friends" are always hidden under helmets and behind face masks.

When you look at the photos, you see moments frozen in time and you remember the way the snow felt that day or that you had a blister on that hike and were trying to keep your sock from sticking to the raw flesh.

They want to see smiling faces, properly excited young adventurers waving at the camera, preferably in front of a lonely planet approved location of interest.

How to explain that you know that the people behind the goggles are smiling even if you don't see it? That you like the cold? The way the world suddenly turns golden when you reach that magic divide between sun and shadow on a morning skin? The tranquility of walking through dry gras and thorny bushes at the end of the day, towards the road, enjoying the slowness? Crouching whiteknuckled in the back of a pickup speeding down a dirtroad and loving it for the wind in you face and the way the dust billows up behind you?

Bariloche busy and bustling, some old friends, some new, tourists so in love with the idea of traveling that they forget to actually travel and americans who ask if there are whales in the lake. (the answer is no.)







A fairy tale forest and friends that suddenly pop up out of nowhere. Here's to a
small world and the good people of Finland!

Jeni


Jari


Meadowskipping Treefairy


Cerro Lopez with Split-It, a reminder of the consequences of stupidity, redeeming powder turns in the trees and a swiss expat whose sweet tea and classic asswiggling style make Lopez feel like the Sellrain.









Potential touring partners were turned back by the wind .
:HINT: don't do the retard traverse, drop over the ridge to avoid wind :HINT:

Arriving at Frey I find that the Refugieros have gone to twon to buy provisions and the place seems deserted. I bolt the doors against the storm and settle in for the night with a Spanish Sin City comic that was collecting dust under the table. Dead protitutes and murdering shadows start floating around in the dark around my small island of headlamp light. The wind is tearind at the shutters, howling around the hut. Marv is sawing someones feet off, feeding him to a wild dog part for part. The wind is getting worse, a high pitched wailing. The head Marv is holding is dripping with blood but still somehow wearing Harry Potter glasses.
- Wait, that wasn't the wind. It's coming from the storage room next to the
kitchen..-

Another lonely soul hiding from the night, a set of glowing golden eyes, a warm body next to mine and comfort for both of us...




A bit lazy on the following days due to the remnants of a cold and my generally dismal performance on breakable crust. Sky: blue. Views: extensive. Clouds in the valley: Schadenfreude.

Hut below at end of lake.


Lunch view.




yours truly


Would have liked to ead further out to Jacob, Laguna Negra, the Tres Reyes etc but couldn't find anyone to come along. Seriously people, sack the fuck up, ok?



Times are a-changing at Refugio Frey. A new owner, the hut warden of 15 years, el famoso Pedro left and the place will be very different in the future. Remains to be seen whether that's good or bad.The new refugieros are nice. The mountains will stay the same.




Crowded and expensinve, B-town quickly becomes annoying so it's off to E-town. I'd happily spend a season here, just missing a bit of snow this time. La Hoya was quite bare, windcrust and boilerplate. Skies are brilliantly blue though and company good, so who cares. I love this place.



Small railway bridge on the way to a good hitch hiking spot, fun in skiboots and carrying a bunch of gear.



Jo






Steph




The search for better snow leads us from moonshine to morning sun, into clouds and all the way to golden evening light, through forests, up endless expanses of nothing and rocky ravines. We know the reward and never falter. (skiiing pics and some of the others by Seb..)























Moi


Scott




Jo










you can see the tracks in the sun at the top if you look closely.




looong walk out


some one pick us up, please?


ahh yes.



Mes amis francais Jo et Seb are kind people and it is humbling to watch them ski. They believe in skiing as a way of life and make skis. Have a look at their website, browsind through the Chamonix and La Grave pictures especially recommended: www.bumtribe.fr

In Chile at the moment and still debating whether to go north or back south for the maggot gathering in Bariloche. Sacrifices to the volcanoes have produced a storm here for now and some deep, so very, very white snow.