A Bout of Bad Luck

I suppose it was about time, I think Puno just doesn't agree with me for some reason. It was a solid 24 hours of kicks in the nuts. First had the reservation at my hotel canceled so settled on a ramshackle joint down the street without hot water during the frigid 20 degree evening - chilllly!, then proceeded to lose all my pics from the past 2 1/2 weeks - shiot, shite, shit!, tried to lose my ipod - but luckily retrieved it after some pleading and whimpering - thank God, got my first case of the always exciting travelers squirts - yum, dabbled in a little altitude sickness - migrains rule!, and found out that American's now have to pay $140 for a Bolivian visa - thanks W!, but on the upside of life I can now freely pass into and out of Bolivia for the next 5 years without a bother - cocaine trafficing anyone? - I kid, I kid.

I shall mend my wounds tomorrow on the floating Island of the Sun hoovering above Lake Titicaca - Titikaka - Titiqaqa - I have seen it spelled all three ways so I figured I would share them with you. Then I got about 2 weeks to bum around the rest of Bolivia, which is already proving to be much cheaper than its South American counterparts - yeah for my wallet!

Virgin Party

Fiesta de la Virgen del Carmen in La Tirana is not necessarily something I am marking on my calendar for next year, but it was definitely well worth the visit. I had no idea the event was even taking place and just happened to be passing through the northern Chilean city of Iqueque when the climax of the festival was about to go down. La Tirana is in the middle of the desert, where its hard to believe anyone would want to live. A barren wasteland, blisteringly hot during the day but bone chilling cold at night where vegetation doesn't stand a chance at survival and chapped lips are inevitable. Its actually pretty hard to imagine what was going through that first group of people's head when they stumbled upon this particular plot of land and decided, wow, this is the home I have always wanted. Anywho, this little pueblo, that can't possibly support more than a few hundred year round, brings over 100,000 during the famous fiesta that commemorates the Virgin Carmen who converted to Catholicism after falling in love with one of those dashing Spanish conquistadors. People dance in the street nonstop, 24 hours a day for 10 days straight all boasting elaborate costumes with loud, festive music to match. I have to say its pretty strange rolling into a gathering of such magnitude with no alcohol involved. Its definitely something I have never experienced before. They held a full mass during the hour or two before midnight, and when 12 hit it was like mardi Gras minus the beads and breasts. The crowd got so enamored with enthusiasm that it was physically impossible to move, you could only follow the direction of the masses - I think my feet actually left the ground at one point as I hoovered above the ground unable to dictate my next move completely at the mercy of the crowd. I haven´t felt that sensation since UGA triumphed over Tennessee in 2000, everyone mob rushed the field and promptly paraded the battered goal posts downtown - luckily no one was trampled in either instance. Anywho it was pretty crazy and a bit more terrifying dead sober but a solid cultural experience that I will not soon forget.

Touching the Glacier

Got down right next to this beast and it really just blows your mind. We were a couple days late, so didn't get to hike across the monster but got close enough to get a feel. The Perito Moreno Glacier, alive and growing...absolutely incredible!

Quick run through...

Left Bariloche bc of boredom and lack of snow in the moñtanas and headed north to Mendoza. Weather was gorgeous there, and being the famous wine region of Argentina, had to get in some tastings so drank my far share of Malbecs - the local favorite. The last night was the Argentine Independence day, so drinking til ungodly hours of the night seemed to be a necessity. Hit the road to Santiago and ran into a whole mess of Americans at the hostel. We all got in a good day at the slopes. I ,ofcourse, had been hauling around ski gear for 3 months and the one chance I get to use it what do I do? Leave both my goggles and gloves at the hostel...classic McCarthy move. Managed to rent the appropriate gear and had a lovely and long overdue day on the mountain. The slopes weren´t huge, but good enough, kinda reminded me of the resorts in New Zealand - no trees, short runs, but good fun. Ended up hanging out in Santiago for an extra day bc my brain was too cloudy to make the necessary reservations to get out of town. The hostel I was staying at filled up in the interum, so I ended up sleeping in the luggage room which was actually much nicer than the normal dorm rooms. Got a room and a double bed to myself for less than the price of an 8 bed dorm. Couldn´t get a bus ticket to my top two destinations the next day, so took the 26 hour ride to Iqueque. Ran into my Patagonian road trip buddy, Paul, and then yesterday went to the Festival de la Virgen in La Tirana. Huge Catholic festival with people dancing for literally 10 days straight. Last night was the climax with a big ceremony and fireworks show. It is by far the largest gathering of people I have ever seen where there is no alcohol involved...100,000 plus. Pretty awesome...Tomorrow heading north for Arica and hopefully La Paz, then its another long haul north to see mama and papa McCarthy.

I want to have Eric Shanteau's baby...

...so that my kids can grow up with half the badassness he is displaying. I love you buddy...

http://sports.espn.go.com/oly/swimming/news/story?id=3482932

The Pink Vest

Heralded as the Holy Grail of traveling paraphernalia, the Pink Vest isn´t something you can just go out and buy at the local t-shirt outlet, well maybe if you live in Panama City Beach, but thats something entirely different. You can´t even really pick the PV yourself, it has to pick you. Apparently it is attracted to banterous 20 somethings with lingering alcohol problems and a knack for making fools out themselves. The Adventure started in New Zealand and has made its way down here to Sudamerica. I have been charged with the duty of throwing the PV into any kind of ridiculous situation I can muster and locating the next suitor. Where will it be next? Your guess is as good as mine...For more info on how to get involved and offer up your support, visit: www.mypinkvest.com

And the fog ran out...

El Chalten is a ghost town in the winter time. A popular destination for a the warm months boasting itself as the trekking capital of Argentina with heaps of hiking and climbing opportunities all centered around the mammoth Mnt. Fitz Roy - but in winter...ghost town. So we strolled into the pueblo about a week after the high season ended to find most of the place deserted. The only hostel listed in the Guide Book was closed and after a couple more failed attempts we found a little cottage of sorts that would put us up for a couple nights. All the grocery stores were hibernating as well, so we compromised by eating convenient store meals consisting mainly of rice and tuna and whiskey. The next 2 days would prove to be rather uneventful, except of course for that puma incident that transformed Liam into our beloved One-eyed freak and our failed attempt to spot Mnt. Fitz on a couple hikes in the back country through the rain and snow.
I suppose Fitz Roy´s disappearing act was to be expected as it spends most of its time basking in the clouds: "The Tehuelches, primitive inhabitants of the regions, venerated the Fitz Roy Mountain and named it "Chalten", which means "mountain that sends out smoke", since they believed it was a volcano, because its summit is always covered with a layer of clouds. Its special shape and height must have served them as an orientation signal during their annual migrations from the Atlantic Ocean to the Andes." Either way we didn´t really see it and had to speculate that the set of clouds resting where we thought Fitz Roy was suppose to be was actually the awe inspiring peak. Tuesday rolled around and it was time to find civilization once again, we packed up and hit the road at sunrise. Sunrise, in the southernmost parts of Patagonia, in the winter, is around 9:30 or 10 so we weren´t really pushing it or anything.

I was still feeling a bit unsettled, or maybe cheated is a better word, as we drove out of town as I wanted to get a peek at that peak. It was right around this time that one of my traveling companions let out a yelp and insisted we direct our attention to the right. And there she was a massive towering monolith reaching towards the heavens. The pictures started up and seemed to get better and better as the sun painted the peak a light pink while at the same time providing it with a majestic blue canvas...Gas - 80 pesos, rice and tuna from the kiosko - 20 pesos, 2 days of car rental - 300 pesos, 2 nights in some dudes house - 60 pesos, saving a baby from a pack of pumas - Liam´s eye, 20 minutes of intimacy the massively impressive Mount Fitz Roy...priceless.