Since I’m practically an amphibian — and a thermophilic amphibian at that — and the weather nastiness on San José left us with a few spare days, we decided to drive around the hot springs. The ones located right around San José and Marmolejo. After all, San José is an active volcano — it’s supposed to be hot.
The first stop was Termas Valle de Colina. For perfectly obvious reasons — they’re only about fifteen kilometers from the parking area at the goat farm where people start for San José and Marmolejo. The springs are at 2500 m.
We crawled back to the car around sunset, packed up, and drove off. The road there is… well, that kind of road, and those kilometers take time, so we arrived already at dusk. Not far from the springs there’s a little booth with a barrier across the road, collecting money — 15,000 local currency (about $15) per person per day. If you leave later, they’ll charge you for unpaid time.
This was taken in the morning, in daylight. On the left of the road, where the cars are — that’s kind of a camping area (pitch your tent wherever you can). Water is piped from the stream, there are trash bins, and the area is cleaned.
The springs themselves are on the slope to the right. Groups of pools are arranged there, flowing into one another. Water at the inlet is 50°C, plus cold stream water. There’s also a toilet and a shower. Shower water comes from the stream — cold but clean. The hot water is very mineralized, almost cloudy, but no hydrogen sulfide or other smelly effects.
I don’t have photos of the springs — I didn’t take the camera there. There are promotional photos online, and they embellish reality quite a bit, as usual.
We arrived, pitched the tent in the dark off to one side of the road, and went to soak. The pools are always open — there’s nobody to close them anyway. Soaking was wonderful after two weeks in the mountains.
In the morning we went for another soak — we’d paid, after all, and two weeks without washing hadn’t yet been compensated. If it was relatively empty at night, by morning people had arrived. The springs are popular. People drive from Santiago (about three hours), and there are shuttles — not from Santiago itself, but from the nearest town with regular bus service to the capital. And not only locals (Chileans) — people come from Argentina, there was a whole crowd of young American college girls (U.S., that is), and others… all overheard from conversations between soaking neighbors.
But aside from soaking with beautiful mountain views, there’s nothing else to do there. There’s supposedly some horseback route, but we’re horses ourselves…
We crawled out, blissfully melted from the hot baths, packed our belongings, and drove to Termas del Plomo in the Yeso valley. The valley lies on the other side of Marmolejo, so you have to leave one valley, cross over, and then climb up again. The crossing between valleys goes through the town of San Jose de Maipo.
We reached the town — and got stuck. The road in our direction was closed because of a fire. What exactly was burning was unclear, but there was plenty of activity — from a pile of cars blocking the road to helicopters constantly flying back and forth. Looked like some campground was on fire — there are many there, it’s a popular getaway for Santiago residents.
We stood in line, realized night was approaching, there was still a long way to go, and prospects were unclear, so we decided to stay overnight in de Maipo. The map showed a huge municipal campground by the river. We arrived and found magnificent giant equipped empty spaces in a park on the banks of the Yeso. The caretaker living in the far corner said it was closed until… beyond that our Spanish failed.
But the caretaker was far away and didn’t care, there was plenty of space by the river, and we settled in perfectly. Good place, and looking for something else at that point would have been madness.
In the morning we drove into the Yeso valley — the road was clear now. On the way you pass along the shore of Yeso Dam, a huge reservoir supplying water to Santiago. “Along the shore” is generous — there’s a many-meter drop into the water along its entire length, and a dirt road scratched into the cliff about one and a half lanes wide. Pretty sketchy. I didn’t like it.
Farther in the Yeso valley is a park, and entry costs about $12 equivalent, but they don’t seem to count days. No control on exit either.
Look at this charming prickly thing. Calycera herbacea. Local endemic. Don’t ask — it doesn’t even have a Spanish name, only Latin.
View from the aforementioned prickly plant (and park entrance) toward the upper valley.
And here are the hot springs. Well — lukewarm, 29°C, you wouldn’t even soft-boil yourself. More like try not to freeze. Elevation 2900 m. This nice stream really flows straight out of a hole in the rock. That’s common here. Water appearing from nowhere. The water itself is cold. The stone pool wall built around it is pure decoration — yes, there’s a knee-deep basin, but completely cold. People actually bathe in the puddles below.
View of the bathing puddles through Erythranthe lutea (monkeyflower).
The waterfall from the hole, closer.
Some cheerful Phrymaceae.
The campground has a proper water closet and sinks (water from the nearby stream). Lukewarm springs, and flat space for tents. When we arrived there were three tents; by the time we walked around, they had vanished.
Where there’s water, there are plants.
Tropaeolum polyphyllum
And birds. Creamy-rumped miner (Geositta isabellina). They nest in burrows.
We pitched camp; climbing into the “hot” springs didn’t feel appealing yet (not exactly warm at nearly 3000 m), so we decided to hike — a trail to a mountain lake with views of our unyielding Marmolejo was promised.
First up the Yeso valley. Behind us — the springs and Marmolejo, dominating everything.
Yeso drops into a canyon.
Calceolaria.
Larrea nitida.
Mutisia.
Marmolejo and Yeso.
We continue ascending along the Yeso.
Seneceo aka ragwort
A little further on, a stream flowing down from somewhere above will join the Yeso on our side, while the Yeso itself will vanish into a hole in the rock. Or rather, it flows out of it. The water here likes to run through the cracks in the rock.
The hole from which Yeso flows out.
It flows there.
The stream flowing into it.
Monkeyflower
We turned away from the Yeso and headed upstream—somewhere roughly in the direction from which the stream flows.
Nastanthus spathulatus
We are approaching the lake.
A family of Magellanic geese lived on the lake—with ten goslings.
As we approached, they decided to feign fright and go for a swim in the lake. Their acting, however, was unconvincing.
The lake
From the other side.
Leaving the lake.
Сhaetanthera apiculata. I first spotted it back during our last year trip —though it wasn’t in bloom at the time. But now… here it is.
The trail was beautiful; I am extremely glad that we took a hike along it. We descended back to the camp and had some tea with our friend,
and realized that immersing is inevitable.
For why, after all, did we come?
I’ll share the technology for visiting these, uh, “hot” springs.
You step in, shivering slightly from the cold. Sit down — the water will reach your neck. Then you shuffle around with your backside, searching for a warm thin stream. They exist, but not in abundance. You find one, anchor yourself over it as best you can, and warm your backside — and through it, your whole body. The thin streams aren’t stable; after a while they disappear, and you urgently crawl along the bottom searching for a new one. Without a warm thin stream under you, it’s cold sitting in that puddle. Getting out is cold too, so you keep searching until they vanish or external circumstances call.
On the plus side — nobody around.
We warmed our backsides, bravely climbed out, spent the night. In the morning we headed toward Santiago, but first decided to explore a tributary of Yeso just around the corner from the springs…
There are some really cool rock formations around here.
It flows out from beneath the rock—that seems to be quite a common thing around here.
You can’t go anywhere without flowers. Morning glories grow everywhere.
More Phrymaceae.
On the way back — the Yeso reservoir.
That concluded our acquaintance with the hot springs.
For the night we stopped once more in de Maipo, this time at a civilized campground with a hot shower and a pool. We grilled meat and indulged our organisms with beef and Carmenère overlooking the Yeso.
Santiago, based on two visits, will get a separate story.
