The Knee Strikes Back
My love affair with the Treehouse's lovely beds was unfortunately cut short this morning by my decision, possibly inspired by the Irish girls' determination to tackle the volcano, to get out and do something a bit more energetic and see a bit more of the countryside around Pucon. I'd decided to go to the Parque Nacional Huerquehue, an hour or so's drive from town, to do the Sendero Los Lagos (the Lakes Trail), which I'd been assured by Sarah, and by Ross and Steve who had done it the day of my arrival, was fairly easy, and not too strenuous apart from "a bit of uphill near the beginning". The intial signs for the trip were not overly propitious, given that I arrived at the bus station to find that all seats on the minibus were already taken and we additional passengers were being packed as tightly as possible into the aisle. My visions of a seat and a chat with fellow visitors to the park, perhaps finding a hiking buddy for the day, were in ruins, and I was left standing, slightly stooped as the ceiling did not provide enough clearance for a 6'1" individual, and getting bounced around for the best part of an hour, much of the latter half on dirt tracks as we approached the park. Not the most comfortable of trips.
Still, I made it, and set off up the path towards the lakes trail. And the early bits were pretty much what I expected, a little bit of up, a little bit of down, some nice views over the lower lakes. And then, after passing a campsite, the trail started to go up. And up. And up. In fact, probably about an hour and a half of near-enough continuous up (it could certainly be done quicker, but not by me - up requires a certain amount of breathers and cursing at life). The views were, it should be said, pretty impressive, but I was realising that what I'd hoped would be a pretty easy hike was not going to work out that way, and also realising, with horror, that I would have to negotiate my way back down this hill again on my way back, which would almost certainly cause problems with my knees, which have never been the strongest on downhill work and have been downright flimsy since my travels on the Great Wall last year. However, I persevered, and had quite a pleasant picnic lunch up by Laguna Verde, one of the small lakes for which the trail is named, though it is most certainly not green as its name would imply. I was joined at this point by two German girls, Kathrin and Kirsten, from another hostel in town, the one a guest and the other a temporary member of staff. You do meet quite a lot of backpackers here, especially in Chile, who work for a month or more at a hostel in exchange for accommodation and sometimes food.
Along with the girls, I elected to do the shorter of the two circuits up at the top of the hill, as contrary to my remaining hopes, said trails were not particularly flat, and I was not in the mood either for more climbing or for more enforced descents if I could avoid it. As it was, the girls forged ahead of me on the way down, as I had to slow down to try and nurse my knees through the situation. As it was, the right one went a little bit early on, but was only a little painful, whereas the left waited until I was about two-thirds down and then properly "pinged", to the point where I nearly fell over when it happened. This thus necessitated my going even slower down the hill, as I tried to compensate for two screwed knees, and grimacing through the occasional flashes of pain when the left knee sparked up again. I was thus not in the happiest of states of mind when I got back to the entrance and found that the girls and I had gotten the times for the buses back to Pucon mixed up and we were looking at waiting 2 hours for the next transport. And at this point, our guardian angels appeared, in the form of a 2 Chileño lads who had been camping up in the park and were driving back to town in their pickup, and who generously agreed to give us a lift back. And there was much rejoicing.
Back in town, I comforted myself with a spot more wine, the remnants of my pasta, a bit more wine which I had purchased, then some more wine offered by Duncan, a friend of Sarah's and fellow JLA guide, then a bit more wine with an impromptu asado that the hostel's Chileño staff and their friends had decided to have, and then a little bit more wine. Strangely, by this point I wasn't really feeling pain any more from my knees, and I had absolutely no trouble getting to sleep...
Still, I made it, and set off up the path towards the lakes trail. And the early bits were pretty much what I expected, a little bit of up, a little bit of down, some nice views over the lower lakes. And then, after passing a campsite, the trail started to go up. And up. And up. In fact, probably about an hour and a half of near-enough continuous up (it could certainly be done quicker, but not by me - up requires a certain amount of breathers and cursing at life). The views were, it should be said, pretty impressive, but I was realising that what I'd hoped would be a pretty easy hike was not going to work out that way, and also realising, with horror, that I would have to negotiate my way back down this hill again on my way back, which would almost certainly cause problems with my knees, which have never been the strongest on downhill work and have been downright flimsy since my travels on the Great Wall last year. However, I persevered, and had quite a pleasant picnic lunch up by Laguna Verde, one of the small lakes for which the trail is named, though it is most certainly not green as its name would imply. I was joined at this point by two German girls, Kathrin and Kirsten, from another hostel in town, the one a guest and the other a temporary member of staff. You do meet quite a lot of backpackers here, especially in Chile, who work for a month or more at a hostel in exchange for accommodation and sometimes food.
Along with the girls, I elected to do the shorter of the two circuits up at the top of the hill, as contrary to my remaining hopes, said trails were not particularly flat, and I was not in the mood either for more climbing or for more enforced descents if I could avoid it. As it was, the girls forged ahead of me on the way down, as I had to slow down to try and nurse my knees through the situation. As it was, the right one went a little bit early on, but was only a little painful, whereas the left waited until I was about two-thirds down and then properly "pinged", to the point where I nearly fell over when it happened. This thus necessitated my going even slower down the hill, as I tried to compensate for two screwed knees, and grimacing through the occasional flashes of pain when the left knee sparked up again. I was thus not in the happiest of states of mind when I got back to the entrance and found that the girls and I had gotten the times for the buses back to Pucon mixed up and we were looking at waiting 2 hours for the next transport. And at this point, our guardian angels appeared, in the form of a 2 Chileño lads who had been camping up in the park and were driving back to town in their pickup, and who generously agreed to give us a lift back. And there was much rejoicing.
Back in town, I comforted myself with a spot more wine, the remnants of my pasta, a bit more wine which I had purchased, then some more wine offered by Duncan, a friend of Sarah's and fellow JLA guide, then a bit more wine with an impromptu asado that the hostel's Chileño staff and their friends had decided to have, and then a little bit more wine. Strangely, by this point I wasn't really feeling pain any more from my knees, and I had absolutely no trouble getting to sleep...
posted by Pat at 12:00 pm
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