So, settling the debt from a year ago, at the end of this freshly concluded December we once again set out for Marmolejo. But not by the standard route — this time via its neighboring volcano San José, just to avoid repeating ourselves. The two stand neatly in a row along the Chile–Argentina border.
We landed in Santiago on the morning of December 29, picked up the car, stocked up on gas and sausages at the store, and rolled up to the already familiar goat farm at 2400 meters around three in the afternoon. Paid the farmer the required tribute (20,000 pesos) for using his land as a parking lot, put our boots on, and got under the packs. “And now, with all this crap on board, we shall attempt to take off.” (c)
I, of course, immediately gravitated toward the flowers. How can one possibly walk past something like this! Caiophora coronata.
Amazingly, I managed not to touch them. Turns out the plant is basically an Andean version of nettle, so it was very fortunate that I refrained.
Rhodophiala rhodolirion, a local amaryllis relative. It pokes up so delicately straight out of the dry ground, as if someone just stuck it there.
We’re heading up, while the familiar goats are descending for their evening milking.
We climbed into the La Engorda valley. And there are the practically familiar stone ruins at 2600. We spent the night by them last year, and will again this time — just slightly from a different side.
But if last year we went left, into the Marmolejo valley, this time we’re heading toward San José.
The water in the river near our sleeping rock was liquid clay; for clean water we had to walk almost back to the entrance of the valley, at least a kilometer one way. Good warm-up, though. Last year it was murky too, but we managed to find a side channel with settled water. This year there’s more snow, stronger melt, the rivers are higher and dirtier.
Evening.
Morning began with birds.
Grey-hooded sierra finch. Serious fellow.
Rufous-collared Sparrow aka Zonotrichia capensis.
And flowers.
Larrea nitida. Knee-high carpet thickets.
Tropaeolum polyphyllum, family Tropaeolaceae — who would have thought.
What’s the proper way to celebrate a birthday? Correct — throw 26–28 kilos on your back and trudge uphill under a scorching sun.
At first we walk along the valley for a bit, successfully cross the river without getting our feet wet (in the morning the water is much lower), then turn off and start climbing straight up onto the ridge.
And here’s the little stream valley where the Refugio Plantat stands. The greenest place on our route — practically an oasis.
And there’s the refuge. Elevation 3100. The roof turned out to be such a bright orange that from above we could spot it without fail.
Right by the doorstep the stream spreads into a small pond, around which there’s a green lawn with fat dandelions and plenty of birds.
People who leave the parking lot in the morning instead of late afternoon like we did usually spend the night here. Many just hike up to the refuge as the final goal of a day walk.
We met here an Australian and two Germans, whom we would keep running into on the mountain afterward. And also a longtime local, comrade Nelson, who enthusiastically told us all about the mountain and even handed over a homemade route map. The map turned out to be inaccurate, but beautiful. My companions are studying it on the grass right here.
We didn’t stay at the refuge, went higher, and spent the night among rocks at 3400.
In the morning we continued.
There’s a fairly obvious trail (sometimes well trodden, sometimes cairned through boulder fields), but at this time there were many snowfields, so we put on crampons and went straight over them.
Some cairns are very much… cairn.
We climbed to 4100. This will be our base camp. Good platform, liquid water available in the afternoon, and fine views.
Bidding farewell to the last sun of the year.
