We woke in the night when the mercury hit minus five in the dorm.
After breakfast, we hacked at the encroaching glacier with a fork and freed the frozen campers entombed in it.
After breakfast, we hacked at the encroaching glacier with a fork and freed the frozen campers entombed in it.
The ride to the waterfall was scheduled for 10.00am and after retrieving Shay and Leon from the track-side thicket, after yesterday's unscheduled departure from the back of the pickup, we climbed aboard again, this time lashing ourselves to the nearest Llama.
Agapeito was waiting, head tossing, nostrils flared and tail flicking.
It didn't look good.
"I see some of you survived yesterday's ride" Kevin chirped. After another brief safety talk we mounted up and rode away in the brittle morning light with Lydia at the front and Julio, the angel-faced gaucho following behind.
Julio had been banned from guest barbeques as his doe eyes and mop of curly black hair sent the girls weak at the knees. Today was no exception. With his beret at a jaunty angled and glint in his eye, even Agapeito was tumescent.
When he slung his six foot frame lazily into the saddle, small whimpers emanated from the female contingent.
Agapeito was waiting, head tossing, nostrils flared and tail flicking.
It didn't look good.
"I see some of you survived yesterday's ride" Kevin chirped. After another brief safety talk we mounted up and rode away in the brittle morning light with Lydia at the front and Julio, the angel-faced gaucho following behind.
Julio had been banned from guest barbeques as his doe eyes and mop of curly black hair sent the girls weak at the knees. Today was no exception. With his beret at a jaunty angled and glint in his eye, even Agapeito was tumescent.
When he slung his six foot frame lazily into the saddle, small whimpers emanated from the female contingent.
Despite the cold night, the day warmed up quickly and we were soon stripping off layers as the ride wound along the valley floor rather than along the wind swept tops that chilled us yesterday. We passed the carcasses of two dead cattle, one seemingly asleep but the other skinned and attended to by a flock of squabbling condors.
Rising and falling with the undulations of the land, we forded several streams, reduced to a trickle by the drought. Predictably, Leon was washed away, never to be seen again but winter is the dry season in Argentina; the rains come in the summer and Kevin had already reduced his stock count by 400 from 1,500. On 2,500 hectares, they were sparsely spread and we came across them only occasionally.
What followed were a series of steep descents and climbs along treacherous tracks.
The sure footed ponies stopped at the top of each, cocked an ear and turned to look at us in a way that only ponies can.
"You're joking, right?" said the eyes.
"Ummmm. No, actually." said the the heel to the ribs.
"Ok, but on your head be it." said the irritated champing on the bit.
"By the way, I thought you should know that I threw a Frenchman to his death down here last week." added the frantically flicking ears.
Sure enough, Chilleito reared and Leone cartwheeled into the ravine a hundred feet below. We found her burnt out remains later in the day and only just managed to reconstitute her with a cheese sandwich and a stiff coffee.
On we went, clinging to the saddle strap and soon the ponies were being tied up to a blossoming cherry tree by a babbling brook while we stopped for lunch. Sliding off the cavalry-saddles we stretched our sore knees and then hiked 500m down a steep path into the ravine where the waterfall flowed. Leone cartwheeled into the ravine again and this time we had to scoop up the tangle of limbs and apply Dave's patented Kishasa (198% proof) 'cap-time' to revive her.
The water was low when we got there but it was clear that when the rains came, the ravine was a dangerous place.
The sure footed ponies stopped at the top of each, cocked an ear and turned to look at us in a way that only ponies can.
"You're joking, right?" said the eyes.
"Ummmm. No, actually." said the the heel to the ribs.
"Ok, but on your head be it." said the irritated champing on the bit.
"By the way, I thought you should know that I threw a Frenchman to his death down here last week." added the frantically flicking ears.
Sure enough, Chilleito reared and Leone cartwheeled into the ravine a hundred feet below. We found her burnt out remains later in the day and only just managed to reconstitute her with a cheese sandwich and a stiff coffee.
On we went, clinging to the saddle strap and soon the ponies were being tied up to a blossoming cherry tree by a babbling brook while we stopped for lunch. Sliding off the cavalry-saddles we stretched our sore knees and then hiked 500m down a steep path into the ravine where the waterfall flowed. Leone cartwheeled into the ravine again and this time we had to scoop up the tangle of limbs and apply Dave's patented Kishasa (198% proof) 'cap-time' to revive her.
The water was low when we got there but it was clear that when the rains came, the ravine was a dangerous place.
Later, when we got back, Robin and Lydia opened the Estancia shop which supports a local school and Clare was soon the owner of a new polo shirt while Colin and Sharif walked out with a natty pair of Buenos gaucho berets. Sadly the Julio effect was missing.
They fiddled incessantly with them, all the while debating whether they would have the courage to wear them on the streets of Munich and Byron Bay respectively.
They fiddled incessantly with them, all the while debating whether they would have the courage to wear them on the streets of Munich and Byron Bay respectively.
Before dinner, the gauchos brought some young cattle into the stone pen and we all had a go with the lasso. At first we aimed for the static tree in the middle of the pen and then when the eye was in, the calves were chased around the wall. Lassos flew through the air. They fell short or sailed over the calves’ heads.
We might as well have been flinging Lassie at them.
Then my rope miraculously noosed a steer. Then Sharif got two. Fittingly, Jade, the only the vegetarian in the group, snagged one with every throw and won the prize at dinner. The gauchos showed us how the real rope work was done and after they had finished bellowing with indignation, we drove the fretful calves across the camping area and back to the fields were they had come from.
We might as well have been flinging Lassie at them.
Then my rope miraculously noosed a steer. Then Sharif got two. Fittingly, Jade, the only the vegetarian in the group, snagged one with every throw and won the prize at dinner. The gauchos showed us how the real rope work was done and after they had finished bellowing with indignation, we drove the fretful calves across the camping area and back to the fields were they had come from.
After a shower, Kevin, Lou and the Estancia staff barbequed for 21 people and there followed an unending supply of cooked beef from the herd. The darkness fell and the temperature dropped like a stone, suggesting another sub-zero night was in store.
We retired to El Tambo and played drinking games by the pot boiler stove until the early hours in the vain attempt to forget that the truck was leaving at 6.30am for the 740km drive to Quilmes.
We retired to El Tambo and played drinking games by the pot boiler stove until the early hours in the vain attempt to forget that the truck was leaving at 6.30am for the 740km drive to Quilmes.
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