43. That’s how many days of living in Chile that it took me before I got truly overwhelmed. By the crowds on the metro and then in the bus station and with the heat and the constant busyness of it all.
These feelings could not have come at a more appropriate time it felt, after I’d gotten sick after Buenos Aires and was in the middle of an apparently long-lasting asthma attack and had a friend whose phone had just been stolen from him on the train and was more nervous than I realized about our weekend plans to hike around a mountain with our packs for camping.
None of these things alone, other than not being able to breathe, was truly that bad but all together- that was the first time I had felt like I was suffocating in the city. But just for a second. I felt the overwhelm and the stress and the tired and then I got on the bus and, despite the cramped seats and long ride (8 hours), they went away.
I was still nervous for the hike, something I hadn’t really done before. I’ve camped and hiked and backpacked across Bali but it occurred to me that these three elements have never quite been joined together for me in the past. I went to sleep as well as one could and drifted in and out of consciousness and watching movies play silently on the screens in front of us.
When we got to Pucón it was still dark and we got to watch the sunrise next to the mountain as we walked to the lake in the couple hours before the bus would come to take us to Huerquehue national park. That is my absolute favourite time of day. Watching this dark and still space melt into a new one , brighter and full of possibility, is an incredible thing. Sunsets are amazing, but something about the start that is brought by a sunrise is almost magical.
As we sat at the black sand beach eating our granola bars and minding our business, a woman came up to us who was clearly influenced by some type of drugs and just kept telling us to ‘Mira al lago’, look at the lake. Then she proceeded to stumble and fall straight on top of Kendall before finally heading her own way. A funny story and very odd way to start our day, but she wasn’t wrong. The lake reflecting the soft sunrise bordered by the black sand and deep green trees was a beautiful sight that looked like it belonged in a painting and not right in front of us.
Unfortunately for the park, but maybe a little fortunately for me, the campsite we originally planned to hike to was off limits due to an increased possibility of forest fires (thanks to the active volcano not far off) so we had to change our plans.
Instead of going 12 miles with our packs, we walked about a mile to the first campsite on the mountain and ended up with a big patch of land up a hill from where the real spaces were located. It was so much better (for me) than hiking all day with my pack and we were separated from everyone else camping which meant we didn’t have to worry as much about being loud which is a constant issue for us being in big groups 95% of the time. We had the opening, a river, and then Kaila and I decided to go hang our hammocks a bit further up the hill past the river. We did not want to buy nor carry a tent for the one weekend so we spent a little over $10 on those instead.
We still did hike for 5 hours that day, about 13 miles, on the Los Lagos trails which is the second most difficult in the park. It was hard for me to keep up with everyone being seasoned hikers and going at a fast pace, but I did it. I was the slowest one for sure and I don’t doubt that it was a bit frustrating for some of them when they eventually stopped for a minute so I could catch up, but I was reminded that a messed up knee and not being able to breathe were understandable reasons to be falling behind.
I’m grateful to be with people that are understanding and patient and allow me to do things that are a bit out of my typical skillset without feeling like a total hinderance.
The view at the top of the trail, and throughout, of the lakes (los lagos) and waterfalls and everything surrounding us was amazing and I’m really glad I kept going even when I felt like maybe I shouldn’t have.
Later we swam in the lake and hung out at the dock for a few hours back near our campsite. It struck me how insane the beauty of the area was and how much it reminded me of summer camp (though Bountiful did not have a lake at all, or a mountain.)
Something about seeing the trees surrounding us from the lake made it immediately more intense of a vision than when I had been sitting on the dock. How funny it is, the way that some water could change the feeling of a place so completely.
Cooking dinner/making our sandwiches made it feel like camping when I was younger with my family but the spiced rum that we had put in the river to chill reminded me the far distance away I was from that period of my life. A walk to the dock at sunset later, the stars beginning to shine through the wide open sky, we all sat there and stared up at the gaping space above us. The bright lights creating constellations we had never seen, the southern hemisphere’s sky felt like it went on forever. I guess it does in a way.
Back up at the hammocks we talked about what it will be like, going back to the states, reverse culture shock, the way it feels to go home and share and experience that doesn’t quite make sense to anyone else. I remembered that we only have so much time here. In Chile, at all. All time is borrowed from something else.
Later on, the cold and the awkward angles of our hammocks became too much and we hiked back down the hill and across the river to lay our things on the ground and sleep in the field under the stars next to our friends.
Instead of doing the same hike up the mountain again on Saturday with those who wanted to, I chose to stay at the dock all day long. Those of us there spent hours upon hours of journaling and swimming and talking while we sat under the warm-but-not-too-warm sun.
Another night of sprawling out beneath the stars began well, with Erica and I laying head to head on my sleeping bag trying to pick out homemade constellations that the other could still see from the opposite point of view. It ended a little less well when I leaned into a patch of bores and she spent the next half an hour helping me pick them off of my legs by flashlight. Annie lent us her tent that night, which Kaila, Erica and I all gladly smushed into despite the lack of space or a rain cover.
The camping part, the nature, the day at the lake, they were all things I didn’t know I needed. But I did. So badly.
I felt like I could breathe again, and not just because of the clear mountain air giving my lungs new life. I felt peaceful in a way I had been seriously lacking.
I needed a break from the city and phone service and more than anything, the crowds of people constantly surrounding me during my daily life.
We got back into town that morning and Pucón was almost immediately solidified as my favourite part of Chile thus far. The overcast mountain town was calm but still lively, and exciting without the bustle of a city like the one in which I live right now.
A coffee shop owner gave us restaurant recommendations for later in the day after we stopped in for quick drinks and it turned out to be the best food any of us have eaten since we have been in Chile. After a weekend of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with the occasional ramen and granola bars, it was much needed hot food.
An afternoon of artisan markets, chocolate covered strawberries sold by the lake, and more journaling on the black sand beach while watching boats sail past was everything I could have wanted and more.
It was hard to decide what was better- looking at the trees from the lake by the dock or the stars painting the night sky or the feeling of walking toward the beach in the cool mountain air and the first real hint of weather I had felt in months. The whole trip felt like one big moment that I couldn’t soak in enough of, but it renewed my sense of gratitude about being here and getting to explore so many regions of this expansive country that we get to call home for a while.
An overnight bus ride back had us arriving in the city the next morning before school. A metro ride during rush hour across the entirety of line 1 reminded me of how much I appreciated our time away from it all. Getting back to the house though, I remember thinking it felt kind of nice to be ‘home’.
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