View of Lake Villarica from Villarica
Dock at the main house at Lake Huilipilun
View from the Barroilhet-Diez house
where I stayed.
Me climbing Gringo Mountain. Notice
the thickness of the foliage. It was about
10 am at this point but looks like it's 10 pm.
Well worth the climb up, a view half way down the
mountain of Lake Huilipilun.
I got back to Santiago on February 6th and quickly got settled back in. My first week back really did not bring forth anything of consequence- merely seeing friends and family here and enjoying the nice weather. However, last Wednesday I received a phone call from my mother's best friend's son, Jose Luis, inviting me to come with him and stay at his family's country home in the south. I immediately cleared my schedule and thanked him for the invitation.
Jose Luis' family have been longtime friends of my family, and twenty-four years ago my parents, recently married, came to Chile and went to Huilipilun to visit what was then a new country estate. The entire estate belongs to the Diez family. In 1984, the estate had one home on it, my mother's friend's parents home. Today, the estate includes nearly an entire lake, several small mountains, and five or six homes, not including those of the permanent caretakers and farmers who live there year round, belonging to various members of the Diez family.
The south of Chile is a beautiful zone composed of mountainous peaks, volcanoes, and temperate rain forests known locally as Valdivian Forests (think of Oregon or Washington State). Huilipilun is actually a small lake among many lakes, the largest of which called lake Villarica, which borders both a town and a volcano, all of the same name (you can see it on the map here). Villarica was a very provincial town, but was quaint with very friendly people and some spectacular views.
After a 10 hour bus ride, we arrived in Villarica where members of the family were waiting for us. After another 40 minute ride, we arrived at the Barroilhet-Deiz home where I was warmly welcomed, though right away I was swept up in the commotion. The entire extended Diez family were there for what they call Huili Week, a week of competitions between four groups of the family. This meant that at any one time there some 100 friends and family on the estate. The first day saw me head with one of the teams to the cow barn for a milking competition. Knowing I was from Wisconsin, several family members asked me if I had any experience milking cows, and when I replied that I had done it before they asked me to compete. I promptly declined the invitation knowing how uncomfortable and smelly a task this was.
Afterwards everyone dispersed and I took a swim in the lake followed by a little nap lakeside. However, it quickly grew cold and so I retired inside. This far down south, weather is comparable to summers in Canada or northern Wisconsin. In the evening, the families continued to compete with musical and acting skits. After the competitions, with the whole family in one place, we had a singalong and dance time.
Saturday grew to be a beautiful 80 degree day, and so everyone swam, walked, or boated to the beach where we spent the day in competitions and relaxing. The afternoon included an excellent lunch and more naps. At night I decided to stay in due to my worsening allergies, which had me suffering from a runny nose and sinus headaches.
Sunday started out ugly and rainy but quickly the sun came out. We had an excellent asado of fresh caught fish and typical Chilean meats, all accompanied with plenty of excellent wine. In the afternoon I decided to go take a little nature walk, which found me picking fresh wild berries, plums, and apples. In the evening were the final competitions, which consisted of a dessert competition and then a noodle bridge competition. The desserts were all delicious and every team's noodle bridges held up more than 8 pounds. In the late evening everyone went back to their respective homes and we played a variety of charades-type games while drinking pisco sours.
Monday morning saw an early rise at 8:30 for a climb of Gringo Mountain. This mountain behind the estate plays an important part in the Barroilhet-Goodman history, as my father journeyed up the mountain in dress pants and leather loafers 20 some years ago with Jose Luis, then 12, and his younger brother, two dogs, and a caretaker. Upon reaching the top, the caretaker leaves them behind to go cook dinner. Nearly four hours later, they had not returned and my mother and the rest of the Barroilhets began to worry for their safety. Not soon after, though, my father returned with two dirty boys, two terrified and exhausted dogs in arms, and with his leather ruined, his clothes torn to tatters, and scratches all over his face and arms. Apparently they had taken a wrong turn on the way down through a steep, water-fall clad ravine, or quebrada in Spanish. Ever since, the story of La Quebrada del Gringo have been family legends and have inspired the naming of the mountain for my father.
In any case, I simply could not leave without attempting to take on Gringo Mountain, especially since it has since become a test of manhood at the estate. Let me say at this point that I have a newfound respect for my old man. I had a hard enough time making it up and down in hiking shoes, jeans, and a special trekking sweatshirt, let alone as a skinny gringo with a button-down shirt, dress pants, and loafers. I came back down the mountain covered in dirt and jungle-mess, completely soaked in sweat and water from the small river I fell in. It was one of the hardest hikes I've ever taken, and even as I write this entry a day later my body still hurts. It was worth it, though. Rarely have I ever been in a place so untouched by man. It was a spectacular view from the top and I saw some great examples of stunning wildlife.
After finally making it back 5 hours later, I immediately jumped in the lake one last time. After lunch and a nap in a hammock, I boarded the bus once again and headed back to Santiago.
It was an amazing trip that I will never forget.
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