Walkers and Hikers

Photo from last Saturday: Kids and dogs hike the Waterfalls at El Tigre

We learned how to categorize hikers while on the ship, Mare Australis, going around Tierra del Fuego, through the Straits of Magellan, and up the Beagle Channel to Punta Arenas, Chile. En route, twice daily, almost everyone, except the most hung-over of passengers, ferried over to the glaciers on Zodiac boats. There, the crew divided the passengers into groups: first by language - English, French and Spanish - and then again by ‘walker type’. Advanced Walkers got to scramble up onto the glaciers, Intermediate Walkers did the botanical walks on trails and, finally, there were those who didn’t walk at all - coined by GRAK as “Johnny Walkers” - who stayed back at the beach, sipping whiskey over glacier ice!

We ran into fellow Horseman, War (aka Tim Hodgson), on the day we disembarked. I just happened to glance out the window and saw - “My God, it’s an Englishman” - a tall, lanky fellow, with cape billowing in the wind. War couldn’t get passage with us, so settled for the next cruise out. As a fellow sailor, we introduced our mate to the Captain and got him seated at the Captain’s Table. However, he told us later that the passengers seated at the other tables had a lot more fun! Mare Australis attracts an international group of interesting, mostly fit people. Having said that, on some days, we were Advanced Walkers but, on other days, we weren’t up for walking at all. The difference mostly depended on what had happened the night before, as the party scene continued every night, all cruise long. We met a German athlete on his way to hike a mountain in Antarctica, and this guy did it all - partied all night and managed to get up at dawn every morning in time to catch the Zodiac over to the glaciers. At the other extreme, a few people never even left the ship. But most of us fell someplace in between.

That’s how it is with hiking, it depends on how you feel - perhaps a twinge in the knee - and you may not feel up to the hike that you’d scheduled to do with a group of friends.

No problem. At El Tigre, all the hikes are beautiful. In fact, some pals don't walk at all - they just settle down on the terrace with binoculars and spend the morning quite splendidly, just looking around at what comes calling in the gardens. Rainy season is the best time of the year for butterflies (in the dry season, they are mostly up in the trees or in other stages of butterfly life) but birding is always awesome. Dry season brings in the migrants passing through from the north, as well as the usual residents. And there are a slew of them!

In any case, fellow hiker, Abby, put it best - categorizing Hikes and Hikers is relative, and depends on your perspective. What’s Easy for Armando, like scrambling about the Waterfalls, is actually an Advanced Hike - only for fit hikers who feel at ease scaling mountains and rock climbing. The Waterfalls is actually my favorite hike and I love to go down there whenever possible. We just went down there the other day with the kids and three of the dogs, and had a blast. I have observed that kids have natural balance and can skip over rocks with the greatest of ease - sickening, isn’t it…

Do you have natural balance? I don’t - as Gerald loves to point out whenever we foxtrot together - but the Taijiquan and dancing lessons helped me a lot. Natural balance - dancers, surfers, snow boarders…

You do need natural balance to go along with us on the Advanced Hikes at El Tigre. We also go off-trail, with Armando roughing out the route in front of us with a machete. I have a group of girlfriends who love to go out exploring, even if it means returning home filthy and scuffed up: Robin Emigh, Penny Houghton, Kathryn Tanzi, Leigh Moynihan, Beth Crane, to name just a few. Beth and I hiked and botanized everywhere - even in forbidden places, like on a golf course. One time, her husband yelled at us to get off the golf course, when he spotted us botanizing out there around the seventh hole at Los Suenos. We sped off in the golf-cart, numerous leafy specimens scattering in our wake. But, another time, she played one of her best games while botanizing with me - so there, Greg. If only the husbands knew how we girls used to ramble all over the place, sometimes getting into trouble.

After a few accidents at El Tigre, Gerald began accusing me of trying to kill off all my friends. So I decided to make most of our hikes ‘intermediate hikes’ - strenuous but not scary. The guys have improved the trails, and we’ve taken other steps to minimize injuries.

But, a hike is a hike, and if you arrive at El Tigre feeling a twinge in your knee and not feeling up to, say, hiking down to the Mines, please just let me know! I am basically a lazy person, and will only too happily send your husband and other pals with Armando, while we go and enjoy the views over at Tiger Hill, or just stroll in the gardens and meet up with the other hikers at the swimming pool.

So what type of hiker is Gerald? Well, we’ve rambled all over: Torres del Paine; Patagonia; Highland Scotland; the English Lake District, where Wordsworth inspired me to return home to PA and plant a hillside of Daffodils; and many other fascinating places. However, the main thing that unites all of these hikes is that there is always a pub at the end of it. Gerald has hiked for hours, across miles of footpaths, in even the foulest of weather (I’ll never forget how he hauled us all the way up to Hadrian’s Wall in gale force winds) to reach - a pub he’d read about somewhere.

However, as there are no pubs at Reserva El Tigre and, after hiking, we always end up back in the housekeeper’s kitchen with the cats and various other fauna, what type of Walker do you think Gerald is here at the Finca?

People often ask me how we can keep all the animals around here in harmony. Normally, dogs and cats are at war. Well, it’s not harmony so much as a dynamic state of flux. Just look at where I come from. Even now, Mom and Cyril are planning their move from Michigan down to Florida in a van, together with, as mother says, “Picture this!” - Van occupants: Mom and Cy, 6 dogs, 2 birds, a new kitten (Avi their late, beloved, Maine Coon Cat is still very much missed), and Grandpa (now 93 years old!). My brother Al will drive them down in the van but, afterwards, will return back to Michigan. Some of the clan still likes the cold, but it was Cy’s last winter in Michigan after losing his big toe last winter.

And it’s a great buyers’ housing market right now, so they bought a house in Florida. And the whole animal herd will move with them and, of course, grandpa, who very much looks forward to it. However, I shall very much miss sitting in the hot-tub with Cy and grandpa back in Michigan, dogs lolling about all around.