New Year 2006-07

This year, I went off on my own and it did me a whole lot of good. I loved every minute of it. I went to a quaint little refugio called "El Cajon del Azul". This is a very special place. I realized it had been a very long time since I had allowed myself to simply enjoy myself. Enjoy the company I keep when no one else is around. I frolicked, I wandered, I danced alone, I laughed at myself when a cow spooked me. I looked up at trees and down at moss and took a dip in freezing glacial waters. It was wonderful. But, naturally, there were people to meet as well and I was lucky enough to find myself amongst some very nice Argentine folks - families, groups of friends, people traveling alone in their country. Everyone was welcoming but respectful of my desire to be alone and it couldn't have been a better trip for me. The only word to describe the last three days is JOYFUL.

The Refugio is really a home. A home tucked between steep, rocky mountains, surrounded by apple and cherry trees carpeted with gently rolling grassy lawns. Paradise. It lies about 12 km from any decent road – all materials and supplies that cannot be gathered from the surroundings are brought in on horseback). Atilio, the man who lives there and built the place 26 years ago shares his home with hikers, travelers and random wanderers of all shapes, sizes and colors. He is welcoming, giving and friendly. Along with the cherry and apple trees, he has his own garden, filled with yummy greens, onions, carrots, tomatoes and other goodies. He has a flock of sheep, horses and a woodshop just outside the house. He is a small man, with in with incredible strength. Every task he performs, whether it be cracking a home-grown walnut or roasting a pig over a fire, he performs with full mind and body dedication, as if nothing else in the world existed.

He chose a perfect location to build his home. It is situated right next to an impressive site where the light blue glacial waters gush through a narrow (1-2 foot), deep (60 foot) rocky canyon. When I walked up to this location, it appeared as if I could simply hop across to the other side – and I probably could have. But I looked down to where I would end up if I somehow tripped, slipped or stumbled and I suddenly felt unsure about standing on so close to the edge. It was a long way down, through contours of granite rock, the undulations of one side complimenting the other side’s nooks and crannies. Never were the rock walls more than 2 feet from each other. And way down at the bottom of this narrow shoot were frothy, disturbed, light blue waters that seemed frustrated at their current cramped situation.

I spent the weekend exploring the lovely surrounding area. I never once had a plan. I laid down in the sun and thought of nothing, I wrote in my journal, I drank a lot of mate with other travelers, I took hikes, I ate good food and drank home-brewed beer. I climbed trees, watched water flowing over rocks for hours, I made new friends, cooked dinner at midnight over a huge bonfire and looked up at a star-filled, moonlit sky. And the whole time I felt completely free. And very comfortable, safe and secure.

As I wandered through the river valley, I felt my surroundings were very familiar but at the same time very unfamiliar. It reminded me of my summer in southern Utah and backpacks in the Sierras where there was no distinction between me and my surroundings. There was no self-consciousness. Just bliss for the beauty. And gratefulness. Gratefulness because despite all the ugly things that are happening in the world right now, despite all the death and destruction, war and terrorism, hunger and hopelessness, beauty persists. And I was blessed enough to be surrounded by it all weekend.

Happy New Year!