By Zachary Boone of Colby College
On September 23, 2019 I left the comfort of my home in Greenwich, Connecticut and boarded a plane to Santiago, Chile to begin an adventure with eight complete strangers. In the Santiago airport I met Christof, whose vocabulary in Spanish consisted of “Ayudame!” (Help me!). Grace, who insisted that we have dessert with at least one meal a day. Adam, who never saw a rock face that he didn’t dream about climbing. Jessalyn, who would drop everything she was doing and run for binoculars when she saw a bird. Kenzie, who worked on a farm in Montana once. Bethany, whose magical baking ability kept us well fed. Rowan, who didn’t know what was going on at least half the time. And Eliana, for whom it was hard to find a song she wouldn’t dance to.
After a few days in Coyhaique, where I learned that my Spanish wasn’t nearly as good as I had initially thought, we drove 8 hours South on the Carretera Austral to Cochrane. It was along this road that I got my first lesson about Chilean culture; the road was closed for construction for 4 hours in the middle of the afternoon. This closure, and the resulting change in plan, explain why our first class of the fall semester took place on a gravel road in the middle of nowhere. This was the first time that we had to be flexible about the schedule, but far from the last.
We had a few days in Cochrane to settle in before going out into the field for the first time. In these few days, it was explained to us how the chore system for our trip would work, which consisted of cooking, cleaning, and housekeeping/breakfast making. We quickly learned that some people were better at cooking for large groups than others. The process of cooking one of our initial meals involved a lot of hysterical screaming, a crash course in how to flavor soup, and a desperate effort to give the soup an appealing consistency (thankfully no flour was added). The resulting meal; cold chicken and squash soup with risotto featuring un-peeled squash and chicken that was still on the bone. The inevitably leftover soup became my seat partner on the drive down to the Chacabuco Valley the next morning to begin our research.
Our research assignment in the Chacabuco Valley was to look for guanaco, a type of camelid related to llamas, native to the area. For this project, we joined up with another group of nine Round River students, making us a team of 18. To complete our guanaco surveys, we drove each of our 4 vehicles to a starting point between 5 and 45 minutes from our campsite and then split into smaller groups to begin the actual surveying. Each small group then walked either due north or due south, depending on their assigned area, regardless of terrain. Dealing with the variable terrain led to some interesting surveying experiences, such as having to cross several small rivers without wearing pants and getting stuck on an exposed cliff face while under attack from a pack of Andean Condors. The single most difficult experience with the surveying, however, involved the cars.
After a long day of transecting, I returned to the van hoping to return to camp. When I got back, however, I found that I was one of the first people there, meaning that I would have to wait before leaving. An hour and a half and one much needed nap later, we finally had the entire group ready to leave. About 5 minutes into our drive home, which was supposed to be a 20-minute trip, we encountered another Round River vehicle sitting on the side of the road with its passengers napping outside of it. The headlights had been left on in the morning and the car died during the transect surveys. The group had to wait for our van to drive past and jump the car which, due to our collective slowness, had been a long time. Thankfully our van came equipped with jumper cables, but finding the battery was another matter entirely. Using the collective brainpower of all 18 people present it only took us 45 minutes to find the battery in the van. Seriously though, who thought it was a good idea to put the battery underneath the driver’s seat? At this point we were beginning to get tired again, seeing as we had been at the side of the road for close to 2.5 hours, so we were all glad that we could start the other vehicle and leave.
Except, now our vehicle wouldn’t start! In desperation, one of the instructors jumped into the front seat of the dead vehicle and encouraged the rest of us to push the car down the road in order to start the car. We all lined up behind the car and pushed and pushed. Thankfully, the ground was flat, making our job easier. The only problem; the car still wouldn’t start, and we were nearing an uphill section that we weren’t going to be able to push the car up. But with one last push the car finally started, allowing us all to get on the road, about 3 hours later than we would have liked. We learned a few key lessons along the way though: having working vehicles makes surveying easier, always look underneath the driver’s seat for the car battery, and pushing cars down the road is a lot of fun.
After returning from the Chacabuco Valley, with all of our vehicles still functional, we set out for Jeinimeni to study Magellanic Woodpecker nests. The procedure for finding nests involved looking at the ground for fresh wood chips as a sign that the nest was recently built. After not seeing snow by this point, I was resigned to the fact that it wasn’t going to snow during my time in Patagonia. To my surprise, two nights into the trip to Jeinimeni it began to snow. My first reaction was of excitement and joy: It’s snowing! I’m going to be able to say that I got snowed on in Patagonia! That feeling of joy quickly turned to one of worry and dread, as I realized that the night was going to be cold and that surveying the next morning was going to be brutal. Thankfully, we were saved by our procedure; the snow covered the ground that we needed to be looking at so there was no point in even trying to do a survey. This translated into: SNOW DAY!!
On my first true snow day since middle school, we all channeled our inner child and had a snowball fight. After finishing this activity, soaked to the skin from snow, we decided to hike up to a lookout to enjoy a view from above of the area that we were going to be surveying in the coming days. When we reached the lookout, the only view was of thick clouds, but once again, we engaged in an activity from our youth and built a snowman. This snowman was built in homage of the park ranger who led us in a fence removal project for a few days while we were in the Chacabuco Valley.
Upon our return to Cochrane, our group of 9 was set to go our separate ways. Kenzie, Bethany, and Ro were going to conduct research in Bernardo, while the rest of us were off to Villa O’Higgins to survey an area known as Entrada Mayer to see what was there, as this was a new project for Round River. The team going to Entrada Mayer was supposed to meet the other research group in Villa O’Higgins, but the other team got stuck in Pascua for 3 days, forcing us to once again be flexible and hang out in Cochrane for a few extra days. We spent our time alternating between worrying about our stranded friends and buying the local supermarkets out of food while prepping for our next research trip.
The extra days afforded us the opportunity to go on a hiking trip near Villa O’Higgins while the other team recovered from their extended stay at their previous location. Our hiking trip lasted two nights and it rained a lot in that time, which caused small streams upon entry to become swiftly moving rivers when we exited our campsite. One river crossing in particular gave our leader Gabe and I some trouble. There were two options for crossing this particular river. We could scooch across on a fallen log, which seemed uncomfortable but less risky than the option of attempting to hop across a series of rocks. I was the first person to attempt to cross the river and chose to jump across the rocks. About 3/4 of the way across, I put all of my weight on one final rock and prepared to jump to the safety of dry land. Naturally, the rock was loose and instead of jumping, I awkwardly toppled over into the river about 6 inches away from the shore. I was physically fine, but had a very bruised ego, as I looked back across the river to find the majority of the group laughing at my mishap. This led to the rest of the group choosing the safer option of scooching across the log. Our instructor Gabe was at the back of our group and had not seen my fall. When it came time for him to cross the river, he chose the exact same route that I took with the same expected result. This time we were ready with cameras:
Upon returning from our backpacking trip, we traveled to Entrada Mayer with the other group. Our goal for this project was to survey a plot of land that was previously privately owned but was now planned to be set aside for conservation. Not all of the farm animals had been removed from the area yet; resulting in dogs, cats, cows, horses, sheep, and goats running around the property. One cat, which we named Cat Stevens, was particularly dedicated to sneaking into the kitchen and attempting to eat our food. Our campsite consisted of a 3-room cabin with a kitchen, a bathroom, a bedroom with 4 small bunk beds, and a field that was used for livestock grazing as our group tent spot.
If our trip to Jeinimeni could be explained by the snow, then this adventure was defined by the rain. The consistent downpour for the first two days left everybody cold and wet throughout our surveys. This wetness, combined with the fact that policing the animals near our tents was difficult, led to the majority of the group trying to bunk in the cabin bedroom; making the cabin a small and cramped living space. On the morning of the third day, it rained once again. After getting up and reluctantly packing my soaking wet tent into my backpack in preparation for an overnight backpacking survey, I heard the news: we were not going to survey, but rather stay inside and wait out the weather. This “rain day” left me in a bit of a dilemma: I could either set up my soaking wet tent in the rainstorm or wait for the rain to stop and deal with the problem later. I chose the latter, leaving me without a tent or an indoor sleeping spot for the time being.
After being stuck in the kitchen for the majority of the day, because I didn’t have any personal space with my tent still in my drenched backpack, I was elated when the sun came out allowing us to have our class for the day outside of the kitchen. Naturally, about an hour into class I had to go to the bathroom REALLY badly. So I excused myself from class and ran back towards our cabin to use the bathroom. The last thing that I wanted to deal with at this point was an interruption of any type, so I was overwhelmed when I encountered about two dozen sheep and goats having a field day in the most literal sense. Deciding that my bathroom emergency was a priority over our campsite getting overrun by excited farm animals, I sprinted inside the cabin, ignoring the goat that was knocking at the front door with its horns. I made a mental note to self to never again leave leftover lunch food outside for wild goats to eat, and locked myself in the bathroom. After leaving the bathroom and chasing the goats and sheep away, I wanted nothing more than to get back to class and put the whole bathroom event behind me.
After the completion of class, the group returned to the cabin to find hoof prints and bite marks in all of the set-up tents. This made me feel validated about my decision to not set up my tent earlier in the day, while simultaneously making me fearful about setting up my tent in Entrada Mayer again. I also felt proud that I had helped prevent the animals from getting into the kitchen. This feeling would not last long, as I heard a very satisfied “meow” come from the kitchen and realized that Cat Stevens had finally succeeded in raiding the kitchen. Final score: Farm animals 1 Group gear 0.
After bonding with the other research team and our instructors over the level of flexibility involved in Chilean culture, we collectively decided to share a little bit of American culture with our leaders. As the calendar turned to mid-November, it dawned on us that our stay in town was the best opportunity for a large group Thanksgiving celebration. Upon learning that some of our leaders had never enjoyed a true Thanksgiving feast, we decided that the time was right for an American cultural celebration. Seeing as our teams would be in the backcountry on Thanksgiving Day, we chose an earlier day to have our group feast. We set up our preparation schedule to leave an entire day open for cooking food and the results were amazing. Perfectly cooked chicken (we couldn’t find turkey), homemade stuffing and cranberry sauce, and incredible salad and mashed potatoes filled our stomachs that afternoon, topped off with six apple and pumpkin pies for dessert.
Our fourth and final project took us all to the Tamango sector of Patagonia National Park to survey for the elusive huemul deer. We did not, in the words of Luke Bryan, spend our time “sittin here waitin on a deer”, but rather teamed up with park rangers from CONAF and thoroughly surveyed the area in search of this species. Through working with the park rangers, I learned a lot about huemul deer, Chilean culture and different perspectives about the outdoors. I also got a clear reminder that my Spanish speaking skills are still pretty terrible despite living in Chile for 3 months.
Our Chilean program coordinator, Feña, came with us and toward the end of the research trip, he woke up one morning with a vision: he was going to create the Mermaid Conservation Federation. This entirely fictional organization would protect the hypothetical mermaids of Patagonia. The students all agreed to become the founding members and decided to make matching T-shirts to commemorate this moment in conservation history upon our return to camp. True to our word, the majority of students made Mermaid Conservation Federation T-shirts and we took a picture of the projects governing board before going our separate directions.
After spending a final week at base camp wrapping up our academics and cleaning up, it came time for us to depart on the final backpacking trip to share one last memory and reflect on our collective journeys. It is the moments and people described above that made my adventure stand out much more than just a scientific research trip.
