After two long and lonely weeks I finally left the high altitude desolation of La Puna de Atacama feeling tired and worn out. The high altitude desert´s harsh climate with its unrelenting dry wind and inescapable sun had left me with a longing for the coast and some rest and relaxation. Most importantly, though, I was anxious to meet some other travelers and tell people about my amazing experiences.

Shortly after sunset I arrived in Copiapo, Chile and immediately tried to get an overnight bus to Antofagasta, which was 8 hours to the north and right on the coast. All buses were full so I found myself the cheapest hostel in town. To my chagrin, the dirty and unattractive room cost me $10 Cdn. I knew that Chile was going to be far more expensive then other places that I had visited on the trip. Nonetheless, I was anxious to explore around the very dry desert half of it.

Obviously after so long in the mountains on a rationed diet I was extremely hungry so I went and pulled out cash and then found a sort of fast food barbecue house. For about $ 10 I got a litre beer and a four person barbecue platter with chicken, beef, and chorizo. I devoured it with profound pleasure. I had not eaten meat since my salami went green six days before and this assortment of meats seemed an outstanding luxury. Back at my room I settled in for the night but realized I didn't have my bank card. "SHIT" I left it in the machine primed and ready to take out money. I ran back but it was gone, a terrible feeling washed over me. I hardly slept at all that night. In the morning I checked my account and was relieved to see that nobody had taken any money. The bank was closed the next day s I stayed an extea day and was lucky to walk in and be handed my card when it was open. Apparently they were able to retrieve my card from the machine as it had automatically sucked it in after a certain delay. It seemed Ironic that I survived the desert mountains with out serious complications only to screw up bad in the city.

I spent both evening while there sitting alone in the plaza and watching groups of beautiful girls socializing and laughing while their boy friends performed stunts on their skateboards. I laughed when the police drove by and all the guys would hide their skateboards in the bushes. The old ladies would then shake their heads at the police who obviously did not really care if they skateboarded in the plaza. A gypsy lady came up to me and asked me for money. I didn't want to give her any but I enjoyed conversing with her nonetheless. Copiapo was pleasant in the center but it was boring and lacked character. The next day I boarded a bus for Antofagasta and soon we were barreling north with the pacific at our side. Very nice to see the ocean up close after 4 months so far away from it. In Antofagasta I was disappointed to find that there was no backpackers hostel so I hiked around town with a list of hotels in search of something very cheap et secure and livable. Many of them were far to expensive or disgustingly dreary and seemingly dangerous. Finally, I found something in between. Antofagasta was quite beautiful. A long strip of urbanization sandwiched between the sea and desert mountains of sand and rock. I did a nice hike above town following a long traversing ridge of desert mountains with a fully exposed view over the city.

After a days walking and a swim in the warm water I found myself bored again and so I pulled out my map to see where I should go as I had no guide book for Chile. I decided my next destination should be San Pedro Atacama a super touristy village in the heart of the Atacama desert. The town is popular for its interesting desert landscape and access to The Salar de Uyuni tour in Bolivia. My main incentive to go there was to chill out and there I knew I would meet some travelers and speak some English. I had been off the "Gringo Trail" for nearly 2 months and had met very few Northerners for a long time. Also, I scouted my map for another mountain or range. Somehow I was already anxious for more mountains. To the north of Calama two compelling peaks were marked on my map at both over 6100m and appeared to be right next to each other. I gambled that there was a shallow pass in between the two providing a high camp with snow access for melting into drinking water. I found absolutely no information on the Internet about them ,which was surprising as they were clearly the highest peaks in an enormous area. As we passed through Calama I caught a grand view of them; they were absolute monsters, rising nearly 4000 m above the high plains. Upon sight I set a goal to reach their high summits.

But first I had to chill. In San Pedro de Atacama I found a beautiful hostel and met several other travelers. We drank beer and I rejoiced in my experiences of isolation in the desert where I saw roaming herds of vicunas, climbed remote summits and was frighteningly blinded by a sandstorm at nearly 6000m elevation.

I did some nice tours by bike from the city as I found it was much cheaper to rent a bike then to join boring organized tours. One evening we rented sandboards and cycled out to "the valley of the dead." We hiked up an 100m tall sand dune and waxed up our wooden boards. Then we ripped down carving long S-turns down the silky smooth dune. I was amazed at how similar it felt to snowboarding except that when you fall the sand is much less forgiving than snow or even ice.

Another day, I rented a bike and rode out to a salt flat, which was the site of a series of small lakes. They were quite beautiful but the really cool part was swimming in them. The water was purely saturated in salt and extremely buoyant. When I tried to dive down I could not get my feet below the surface. One could float on their back with almost 50 percent of your body out of the water! Later In the evening I pedalled my bike into a merciful headwind of blowing sand up to Parque Nacional Valle de La Luna (Valley of the moon). I watched the sunset over the moon like landscape and sat there until the sky was black and all the tourist had left on their buses. A million stars came out glittering over the super arid desert. Many people come here for star gazing and it is obvious why. The Atacama desert is the most arid location in the world and the night skies are ultra clear. The desert is a spectacular wilderness in its own special way and I often liked to sit out and gaze for hours at the glittering stars. Finally, I returned to my bike and began back along the empty desert highway. There was no traffic, the wind had died down and it was ever so gently lit by the dazzling night sky.


After a dew days in San Pedro I left for Calama to figure if I could find a way to climb Volcan San Pedro and San Pablo. It did´t take long to find out that there was definitely no public transportation and that the towns on my map were only of a few inhabitants each. A guide told me it would be impossible to hitchhike but a very helpful lady in the tourist information encouraged me and helped me find transport to the first desert village. From there I figured I might as well attempt hitchhiking even though I was not sure if there were any vehicles at all heading towards my mountains. I brought about 15 L of water. I figured that half of the water was to get there and the other half was to to stash on the road so I had something left after the hike, which would keep me going for 2 or 3 days while waiting for a ride out. I could see lots of snow was on the mountains and was hoping to find a high camp with water or snow. If there was not easily accessible snow then there would be no chance and I would have to come down immediately.

Public transport got me to the tiny village of Chiuchiu from where I hiked to the edge of town to a fork in the road where I sat down to wait for rides. No cars came. It just so happened, though, that the first truck waved me in. It turned out they they were three mining engineers and they were going exactly ( and I mean EXACTLY) where I was going. what luck! Apparently they were heading to check on a water pump near the mountains. They even drove me off the road a little and up towards the pass. I thanked them greatly and set off towards the pass following an old road. They thought I was absolutely crazy to be dropped off in such a location. I could tell by looking in their eyes that they thought nobody would ever see me again. My pack was pretty heavy but compared to my previous hikes in the high elevation La Puna de Atacama it felt feathery light. The terrain was easygoing and I followed a well worn trail past the occasional shrub or llama skeleton. At around 4900m some nasty clouds blew in and it started snowing hard.

All of a sudden the strangest noice began to buzz " crackleeeeeee bbbbzzzzzzzzzZZZZZZZZZZZ," and then ZAP. "AHHHH, what the heke was that??" And Again bbzzzzzZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!" "ZZZAAAAPPP," What the Fuck! Something stung me! right on my head. I pulled off my toque but there was nothing there. Then my ice axe started buzzing loudly and ZAP! it shocked me. "Oh Shit, Whats going on?" Clearly there was some intense static electricity in the air and even though there was no thunder of lightning it seemed that perhaps it was imminent. I pulled out my axe and threw it away from me and scrambled down a small ridge where I ducked low against some rocks. "That was F%%&$&%$!!!!" I said. Ive never been shocked like that. and I know it sounds pretty hilarious but it was pretty scary and actually it hurt like hell.

The worst of the clouds blew past and I cautiously emerged from my shelter and continued on up. The pass was far ahead of me and the snow still much farther up but at 5000m I found a perfect campsite. It was sheltered by an enormous boulder and a small human built rock wall. Astonishingly, there was seemingly no wind at all on this little corner of the mountain. Also, an enormous icicle formation was nearby and it was melting fast so I was able to fill up on as much water as I needed. from this great height I had an incredible view of the ultra-symmetrical Volcan puriri and then behind it, the near 6000m Volcan Lazo. The stunning wilderness view would be my greatest companion for the next many days.

I could really feel the altitude after de-climatizing so much the last week at sea level so I knew that I should rest for a few days before attempting the summit. There didn´t appear to be another soul on the mountain so I settled in for what I assumed would be a long stretch without company.

As an acclimatization and reconnaissance hike I strolled up to the pass for a view of any possible routes. San Pedro, the higher of the two, appeared very easy and safe so I decided it would be my priority. It looked like a pretty boring climb, though. essentially a massive ramp of loose scree. To make it more interesting I decided to night climb it with the purpose being that I hopefully time it right and arrive at the summit just a moment before sunrise. I had only done this once in my life on El Pico de orizaba in Mexico and that had been a magical experience. watching the world come to light from such a prominent vantage point is one of the most beautiful opportunities in life and offers a striking perspective of the world's geography.

Without having really slept at all I woke up at 1 AM and warmed up a big 4 litre jug of water which I wrapped up in my down vest to keep its heat. As I left my tent and emerged into the frosty night, the moon was peeking over Volcan San Pablo. It was brilliantly full and the entire night alpine area and adjacent volcanoes were lit and visible. The desert below was still a black abyss of obscured and secretive empty space.

I didn't use my headlamp at all while I switchbacked my way up the black and endless slope. In the dead of the night, without a breath of wind, without a soul in a hundred kilometers and being on the edge of an expansive desert I had a profound sense of being isolated. The mountain I was climbing was all mine, the sky was mine, the stars, the moon, even the desert far below me was mine. It was my world. Nothing mattered, no memory nor future expectation was relevant in my mind. Just step after step, each a little higher, every few minutes the air a little thinner. A very surreal experience it is to walk alone with the light of a full moon across a moonlit island above a sea of blackness. The exhaustion and light-headed affect of high elevation makes it all the more dreamlike. In the blackness of the night the peak looming ahead of me appeared no closer as I climbed. It was always just the same triangular shadow. My GPS assured me however that I was indeed making progress and on a good course to make the 6154m summit for sunrise. The horizon to the east slowly lit up and the rest of the world began to follow. The first light came in the form of sharp and brilliant streaks of red and orange very far to the east. The eastern sky lit up while stars still danced above me and in the western sky. It was then bright and I was near the peak. I was very tired and feeling the altitude quite strongly. After several months of mountaineering in south America I was now rather accustomed to the effects and unphased at all.

I summited just a few minutes before the sun and was rewarded with the kind of view that is only possible and only feels so good after working so hard to acheive it. San Pedro´s active crater was not far below me belching smoke and gas. Other volcanoes, none as high as mine, stood bold and tall at the edge of the desert which was still an smoky abyss as the sun had not yet cast its rays into its depths. Unfortunately, my camera batteries were frozen. I stuck them inside my deepest pocket and after 15 min I was able to very quickly snap away 5 or 6 photos. I was on the peak for at least 40 min before coming down. My throat had been getting sore since a few days ago and now in the super-dry and cold air it became very rough. I tried to speak but not a word came out.

Coming down as I expected was not fun, the scree was terrible for descending. It was essentially like walking down a steep slope of ball bearings while your legs are already rubbery and exhausted. With extreme caution and attention I made my way down slipping on to my butt just twice.

I had very little food or gas left and the miners said they would be passing by on Monday at 5PM so I figured that I had to climb San Pablo the next day to be down by Monday at 5PM. I relaxed the rest of the day and prepared for another early start. I couldn't get to sleep until late so I decided with so little rest there was no point in attempting San Pablo and that I could make an early night start on Monday to climb it and be back at the base by 5PM.

I only realized that it was actually Sunday morning when I woke up at 12 Am to climb but figured that was good anyway to have the whole day. I set out at 1AM uncertain of where the night would take me. My originally planned route straight up from the pass I decided was to difficult and exposed so I would walk to the north side and follow a long ridge hopefully up to the summit. As I started to gain the ridge my route came into view, it didn't look promising. It looked like the smooth ridge rose fine until a 40 m cliff near the summit. Based on the surrounding rock I was certain it would be loose and unclimbable. My throat was terribly sore I tried but couldn´t even say "Shiii, ma throa hurs."

I came back down and slept solid until 10Am. To bad but very happy that I reached one of the two and the higher of the two. Also I had passed 3 complete days in a row without meeting seeing, or hearing another human being, which was slightly longer than anytime in my whole life.

I camped that night on the road in the desert valley, it was Sunday and nobody would be driving there. A small river, polluted from mines and undrinkable, ran by my camp spot and the scene around me was quite pleasant. In the morning I enjoyed several cups of instant coffee in front of my tent while admiring my volcano and feeling generally very good and accomplished. A nice job done but unfortunately still a long way to go. I got on the road and after an hour or so along came the police. We were in Chile and I figured that I could trust them so they gave me a ride to the main road. Absolutely barren in all directions I sat on my pack for about 5 hours. Putting sunscreen on and drinking lots of water to survive the heavy heavy heat that reflected in all directions off the brown desert. Several cars passed me always trailed by an enormous cloud of dust but nobody rescued me from the desert until at around 4:30 rather ironically a tanker carrying 26ooo litres of water picked me up and brought me back to Chiuchiu. I caught the last collectivo of the day back to Calama where I had a feast of barbequed meat accompanied by a litre beer. Unfortunatly I had absolutly no voice which was pretty terrible after not talking to anyone in 4 days.

The next morning I very happily left Calama for the coast. Calama was not a very pleasant city, expensive and industrial due to the mines that surround it. Its setting is interesting but hardly pretty. Set in the heart of the ultra barren Atacama desert with all its water being piped from the mountains. The records show that Calama enjoyed atleast a 400 year drought up until 1971 when it finnaly rained, not even cactuses grow in this desert. After 5 hours on the bus mostly passing through barren flats the desert billowed up into towering dunes and we arrived in Iquique. Much like Antofagasta Iquique was hugging a narrow plain (tidal waves are a major concern here) on the coast walled in by tall desert mountains of sand.

I was very excited to arrive because I heard two very promising thngs of it. First of all apparently there is a wicked hostal beach front and just generally excellent so I reserved myself a bed. Also It is a bit of a meca for paragliding, a sport that has always impressed me and appealed to me. The hostel turned out better than I could have imagined, probably the best Ive stayed in South America. A New house with a good kitchen, wonderful bug free beds, roof top terrace, and all decorated with interesting local art. On my second night I was driking with some guys and watching paragliding videos, "Oh, I want to try that," I said. "Do you want to go tomorow?" One of the guys asked me. I thought for about 1 minute and then said "yes."

We drove up above town and pulled up near the edge of the steep sandy slope where paragliders were all arriving and waiting for the wind to pick up. We suited up in the tandem and my instructions were simple. Simply "When i say run, run towards the cliff. And we were off. We cruised up and down the cliff catching thermals and gaining elevation, when we were high enough we left the slope and headed flying out over the city and landed on the beach right at the hostel. That was sweet. Free flying, like a bird with total control, comfort and the ability to go up. Very very cool. A couple of days later I met a guy in the hostal who was going to start a 2 week course to learn to paraglide. It just seemed like such a good idea, so much cheaper than in Canada and excelent conditions for learning.

For the first days we were just practicing on the ground, learning to control the glider and getting familiar with the equipment. But every day we started flying a little higher. After a week we were launching while the wind was still quite strong and making turns and maintaining height for a while. Finally we made a real flight and cruised from our little sand dune up, up, and up high above our dune. We carved around freely, flying with no gas and at very little energy expense of ourselves. The seat are superbly comfortable and I am hardly exaggerating when I refer to them as flying hammocks. We made our first high flight off a cliff after a briefing of the landing as we cruised straight down over the dunes for a feathery soft landing above town. The high light of the entire course was our second last day, by now we were well confident and flying with very little support except the odd coment from our instructor through the radio. We arrived at our little sand dune to perfect conditions. Shortly after launching we were already flying well above the littel dune, we cruised on over to the bigger mountain, pure sand with a rocky summit. I found a sweet thermal that I cruised back and forth in making 8s. The rate at which I was gaining altitude was astonishing, I could see my progress on the mountain. Rocketing up higher and higher untilI was nearly 1000m, well over the mountains summit, it was... was... Im afraid no words can do it justice. It was brilliant. I had a feeling of pure contentness, laughing out loud and nearly crying. The view of the mountains below and many more way farther in land, then the sea now so far below. Its just really really amazing, Im afraid I cant do to much to describe it but say that it is fulfilling a long time dream of mine, the dream to fly. A feeling of freedom and excitment and always with a priceless view. On our last day we flew in the morning from the cliff and landed on the closest beach which was pretty exciting, you dont want to misjudge your landing there!

Finally I left Iquique bound for Peru. We passed many more hours of desert, sand and rocks and then more sand and sand and sand. I had now been in the desert for about 6 weeks. I had been blasted by raging gusts of sand, I had sand everywhere on me, in me, in my backpack, in my food. I Sat and hiked in the scorching sun, sometimes carrying nearly 20 kilos of water. I had Climbed teasing sand dunes that slid down two steps for every three that I took. But I had seen some of the most beautiful sights in my life. In La Puna de Atacama in the high plain desert among enormous mountains of sand life was thriving, thousands of the endangered Vicuña, flamingoes, guanacos, and other strange and rare creatures. In San Pedro de Atacama I had seen strange alien landscapes, another example of the incredible geographical diversity of the planet. In Calama I had seen true barreness, It was ugly and purely unappealing but nonetheless intersting to see. In Iquique to finish it off I soared so high above it all and had the oppurtunity to take it in and admire that sudden line where the expansive and appearingly endless desert drops off into the ocean. I think that the most inspiring aspect of the desert was first of all its enormous size and continuity, almost always with no apparent end. And then that it is so empty of human life, this is one place that is still very untouched by man and I think that it will remain so for ever.

When all was said and done I was eager to leave from it, I like change. I believe this is one of the most distinguished traits of my personality. With change the world is interesting, when it is constant and unchanging my life becomes repetitive, unexciting, and uninspiring. I can still be content but probably not as enthusiastic, not as excited about things. But heh, I think that most people would be eager to leave after such dry experiences especialy if you come from somewhere as green as Vancouver.

I was happy to be leaving in one peace. Its climate is obviously harsh and usually any serious mistake in the desert would be an unforgivable one. Throughout all my experiences not once did I let myself get in the slightest bit dehydrated nor much of a sunburn at all. I ate plenty of sand and sand here and sand there. The wind in La Puna de Atacama was my greatest chalenge, Its unrelenting roar had me well frustrated and bothered at some points and I know that I couldnt have endured its sand saturated gusts for much longer. Hitchhiking although painfully slow and at times rather frustrating was not as bad as I would have expected. I always carried ample water and was expecting a long wait.

Little changed as we entered Peru, we were still in the midst of the desert but as we arrived in Tacna things were obviously different. I thought it was funny that in a rush to get catch the next bus I bought a ticket for a bus that was supposed to have left 10 minutes ago. There was no bathroom on the bus but the clerk assured me that I had enough time to walk across the station to the bathroom. I rushed to the bathroom and then to my bus and jumped in only to wait another 25 min before leaving. I love it anyway, IM not really in any rush. Just drifting on and on.

Antofagasta


San Pedro de Atacama

Volcan San Pedro 6154m y San Pablo 6117m

Iquique - Paragliding