Merry Christmas!

The first Christmas away from home was spent in New Zealand in 2000, during the summertime, with a sheep-farmin’ family. It was an interesting Christmas. The 10 year old boy got a rifle for a Christmas present. They spent the rest of the day hunting for rabbits or wild boar. I didn’t participate, but instead locked myself in my room with a book and my journal and desperately missed the familiarity of family.

Christmas 2006 was the second Christmas away from home and I have to say, it was quite enjoyable. Close to the town where the company I work for is based is a stream of sharp, rocky peaks dotted with snow. And they are surprisingly easy to access. The “refugio” in Argentina is an excellent invention. It is a hut built in secluded (well, once secluded) spectacular places with 360 degree views of surrounding mountains. People hike up a grueling trail to these spectacular places and are met with friendly faces, mate (Argentine tea) and a nice, warm hut where you can stay the night. No need to lug up sleeping mats or tents or even food! It makes backpacking (and nature, outdoors, adventure) more accessible for those who don’t have the physical ability to lug all that stuff around or the financial situation to buy it.

So on Christmas (which is celebrated on the 24^th at night) it was me, an American couple from New Mexico, a Dutch couple, a woman from Belgium, a German guy, a British gal and a couple of young mountain men from Colorado. We ate trout, drank wine and celebrated with a huge game of hearts. The refugio (Refugio Frey) is situated perfectly on a saddle between a lake and a beautiful green, glaciated valley. Surrounding the hut are lovely granite rocks that scream “Climb me!!” And so we did. J.B. (known here in Spanish-speaking lands as “Jota” and I climbed those rocks! And it was a gooood time. So much fun that the first night we came down from the rocks at 11:30pm and had everyone completely worried out of their minds. Great. Just what I wanted, to reconfirm the fact that Americans have no clue what they are doing. The next day we managed to get down from the rock at a decent hour (even though it took us a good 2 hours to reach the rock!). But she was worth it. I say “she” because the rock was called “La Vieja” – “the old lady”. When looked at from a certain angle, you could see the profile of what could be called an old lady. Anyways, the climb was exposed and completely run out which turns the whole experience into much more of an adventure than it would be otherwise.

I’ll not write too much about Christmas and just say that it was beautiful and wonderful to feel so at home in my own skin, tromping through moutains, scrambling on rocks and pondering the existence of certain high alpine “sponge” plants. Love it!

Merry Christmas!!