Written November 18, 2015
By Kelsey Hamm (University of Vermont)
I remember stepping off the plane in Santiago airport on September 22nd, finding Lainey, Peter and Ryan almost immediately. We made our way through customs and sat at a small café chatting about home, majors, music – the basic get-to-know-you stuff. Eventually, we made for our gate where the rest of the group had already congregated. I looked at everyone and listened intently to the stories they had to tell, soaking up every moment, not being able to even imagine what the three months ahead of us were going to contain, or knowing what living with the same 14 people meant. I can confidently say I now know.
Cutting our last hike short due to weather conditions, our first trip to the southern Patagonia fjords began to wind down. Constant rain confined us to the comforts of the goat shed at the farm of Felidor, one of the CONAF guardeparques we had been working with for the past 10 days. With a roof over our heads, a fire to warm our feet, a good book in hand and the sound of a guitar in the distance, we were content.
This week had marked the beginning of finals season, our time to show the world (our instructors) what we had learned about the natural history of Patagonia, specifically in the fjords region. Staring at plant and bird guides for hours in the goat shed, our minds were forced to do the work our bodies were not permitted to do. That’s when cabin fever kicked in.
On November 11, something happened. The clouds opened just wide enough to have a lick of sunshine in the valley and we set out to do our final huemul deer and plant survey in the area, as well as have a last review for our exam the following day. Even with the open walls in the shed, we rejoiced at the freedom and fresh air the hike provided. I’m disposed to say we were diligent students that day – taking careful notes of the landscape around, taking hand lenses to small bog plants to view their structure or lifting our binoculars to every bird we saw – but plain and simple, on November 11, it wasn’t true. Onlookers might have called us crazy, but it didn’t matter because there weren’t any.
And then I recalled my first impressions of everyone and how this one hike has shattered them all. Robin was running around and pointing his camera into everyone’s face asking, “What are you going to do with those asbestos hands?” Why he was doing that, no one really knows, but people’s reactions were worth it. Like a kindergartner, Matt kept strategically placing the fronds of castilla de vaca (a large fern) in Lily’s backpack. She was a good sport by being overly dramatic about it, entertaining us all.
Our instructor, Shalynn, tracked down this frog as part of our effort to identify the bog ecosystem’s flora and fauna. It is the Hylorina sylvatica. (Photo by Kelsey Hamm)
Shay threw all caution into the wind and topped her boots by walking into the middle of a bog to catch a frog that was sprawled across the bottom. The frog proceeded to entertain her for about 15 minutes while she had her face within inches of it the entire time. Katin tried to play hopscotch on the bogs, leading to her most epic wipeout yet, solidifying her trail name as “Slip-n-Slide.” After doing a handstand on the bog, we all voted Eli as the coolest person any of us know or will ever know. And to really set the tone, Adam played his harmonica randomly – epic scenery with an epic soundtrack.
Our crazy jaunt through the bog habitat did result in a positive sighting of a female huemul deer. (Photo by Kelsey Hamm)
I don’t think there was a time on that day when at least one person wasn’t laughing. And to me, that’s what living with these same 14 people has become. In the airport on September 22, we were shy, we may have been scared, but we were excited. That excitement grows inside of us every time we venture to a new place, see a new frog, and jump on a new bog. Even when the weather stifles it, it’s sure to come out in full force as soon as the sun does, but until then I know I’ll always have someone around with whom to laugh.
Top photo: Students pause for a photo amid a mostly-dry trek across the fjord bog habitat. (Photo by Adam Spencer)