La Boda/The Wedding – 8/15/2009

Que bueno estar en Santiago; que bueno estar in USA; que fome hacer el vuelo--18 horas puerta a puerta—entre los dos. Pero valía la pena;  mi último hijo soltero iba a casarse. (It’s great to be in Santiago; it’s great to be in the US; it’s a bore to make the flight--18 hours door to door—between the two. But it was worth the effort; my remaining single offspring was getting married.)

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El año pasado fuimos a California para la boda de Celina, mi hija, y ahora fuimos a Madison, Wisconsin (2-3 horas al noroeste de Chicago) hogar de Laura Wanek la novia de mi hijo Andy.  (Last year we went to California for my daughter Celina’s Redding and this year we were going to Madison, Wisconsin (2-3 hours NW of Chicago) the home of Laura Wanek, Andy’s Bride.)

Cuando llegamos al hotel, habían llegado los Californios: su tío Rick, hermano de su mamá, a la derecha de Alejandra;  Celina, mi hija; su mamá, Kris; y su tío Jon, sentado.  Andy es el flaco alto. (When we arrived at the hotel the Californians had already arrived: his Uncle Rick, brother of his mother, to Alejandra’s right; my daughter Celina, her mother Kris; and Uncle Jon, seated.  Andy is the tall thin one.)

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La tarde antes de la boda fuimos al ensayo de la ceremonia que Laura (ella es quien corta el queque) había organizado.  Una vez que ella nos tenía organizados, todo salió bien.  (The afternoon before the wedding we went to the rehearsal that Laura (“she-who-cuts-the-cake”)[*] organized.)

 

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El ensayo estuvo en frente del capitolio del estado de Wisconsin, a dos cuadras de nuestro hotel. (The rehearsal was in front of the Wisconsin state capitol, two bocks from our hotel.)

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Después fuimos a la cena del ensayo, una tradición Americana donde las dos familias y amigos comparten una cena la noche antes de la boda. (Then we went to the rehearsal dinner, an American tradition where the two families and friends usually share a meal the evening before the wedding.)

 

Steve, el marido de Celina, pidio el pollo. (Steve, Celina’s husband, had the chicken.)

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En la mañana, fuimos a la feria que tienen cada sábado del verano en la plaza del capitolio.  (The next morning we went to the farmer’s market, held every Saturday of the summer in the capitol plaza.)

Con flores, vegetales, miel y ajo. (With flowers, vegetables, honey and garlic.)

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Después, en micro a la boda--para que nadie tuviera que eligir entre tomar y manejar.  (Then on the bus to the wedding--so no one would have to choose between drinking and driving).
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Llegamos: a la izquierda, Steve, Celina y Kris; abajo Andy, los abuelos de Laura y su papá,  Greg. (We arrive: to the left, Steve, Celina and Kris; below Andy, Laura’s grandparents, and her father, Greg.)

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Estuvimos guapos. (We were looking good.)

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Esperando la novia: el oficiante y amigo de Andy, Joel, Andy y Celina, la

Madrina de la boda. (Waiting for the Bride: Joel, the officiant and Andy’s friend, Andy,  and Celina, the “Best Person.”)  




Llega, y esta hecho. (She arrives, and it’s done.)

Llegan los mariachis…  (the mariachis arrive…)

Y los novios bailan.  (And the newlyweds dance.)

Fotos con los padres orgullosos. (Photos with the proud parents.)

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Las madres de los novios, Kris y Nancy (Mothers of the newlyweds, Kris and Nancy)

Y la cena; aquí estamos con mis amigos de la Universidad, Harry y Debora Berman, y Steve.   (And the dinner; here we are with my friends from the University, Harry y Debora Berman, and Celina’s husband Steve.)

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Desde Madison, fuimos a Springfield, donde visitamos la State Fair, (From Madison we went to Springfield where we went to the State Fair,)

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 …conocimos la Dana House, diseñado por Frank Loyd Wright, y fui a los médicos para mis check-ups.  (…we visited the Dana house build by Frank Loyd Wright, and I went to the doctors for my check-ups.)
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Y después,  a Chicago.  Pero hay que comer en el camino; el famoso bagre frito del Midwest.  (And then to Chicago.  But one must eat on the way; the famous Midwestern fried catfish.)

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En Chicago tuvimos a irnos al Field Museum de historia natural para ver a Sue, la T. rex más famosa del mundo. (In Chicago we had to go to the Field Museum of Natural History to see Sue, the world’s most famous T. rex.)

Y a Michigan Ave. (and to Michigan Ave.)

Y al jardín botánico, con Pepa, la amiga Chilena de Alejandra quien vive en Chicago con su esposo gringo, Peter.  (And to the botanical garden with Pepa, Alejandra’s Chilean friend who lives in Chicago with her gringo husband, Peter.)
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Pasamos cuatro días felices con ellos. (We spent four happy days with them.)

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[*] In Chile “She who cuts the cake” is the woman who gets everything organized.  

El Cajon del Maipo and Refugio de Lo Valdes

Marmelojo from the road to Baños Colina

Living in Santiago the Andes are a constant backdrop, but Santiago isn’t a mountain city (altitude 520 meters/1,700 feet) and Santiagueños focus much more on the coast--Viña del Mar and Valparaiso--than on the mountains. But the Andes are really there, and they are really close.

This week, the first week in June, we had a few days of beautiful weather—clear and in the 60s—and my friend Sid suggested we take the opportunity to go up the Cajón del Maipo into the Andes before the snows. So on Tuesday Sid and Romualdo (like me both ex-professors, though in physics) drove up the canyon.

The lower canyon is a popular day or weekend destination from Santiago, with lots of restaurants, hostels and lodges, but these become less numerous as the valley narrows and the altitude increases. We turned up the valley of the Río Volcán, populated mainly by livestock ranches—cattle, sheep and goats—and the scenery became spectacular with the Volcán San José in the background.

The road, used by heavy trucks carrying crushed rock for Santiago construction, requires near constant repair.

Alamos (poplars) shelter the houses from the strong winds.

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At an elevation of 1946 meters (6,400 feet) and 77 km (48 miles) from Santiago we come to the Refugio lo Váldez, constructed in 1932 as a headquarters for hikers and climbers. It continues to function as a restaurant and hostel, with simple accommodations.

We took advantage of the restaurant, with onion soup followed by pork chops and spatzel, a nice bottle of wine and coffee.
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The view of Volcán San José from the Refugio.
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Then we continued up the road. The Refugio is in the background.

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The Baños Colina are on the side of the Volcán San José, a few hundred feet up from the valley floor at an elevation of 3,500 meters (11,500) feet The water in the upper pool reaches 150°F.

Romualdo came prepared for a bath.

Across the valley to the west, a steep road zigzags upward.

The valley and the road continue on to the south.

Fly fishing in Argentina: April 25--May 2, 2009

Fly fishing in Patagonia is trout fishing heaven… one of those when-I-win-the-lottery dreams for US fishermen. But when you marry a Chilena (something I recommend highly) and move to Chile, it suddenly becomes possible.


Click on photos to enlarge.

About a month ago Marco (my stepdaughter’s husband’s cousin‘s husband; hence family in Chile) called asking if I would like to go fishing with him and a group of friends in Aluminé, Argentina, a long day’s drive, 800 km, from Santiago.





The week would cost around $1000 US, a nice piece of change to a retired professor, but only about 1/3 to 1/5 the going rate in lodges catering to foreigners. And that included everything—7 nights hotel; six days of guides and boats; one day fishing on foot; plus meals, wine, shared gas, car insurance and tolls from Santiago. I said “yes,” or rather “YES!”

So around 5:30 AM on Saturday, April 25 we left Santiago, heading south on Ruta 5, the Pan-American highway. At Victoria we turned east toward the Andes and then south-east on a dirt road that took us up to Icama, at 1,300 m (4,300 ft.) and into Argentina.

Chilean immigration and customs, Icalma

Another 70 km (45 miles) and we arrived at Aluminé, and the Hostería Aires del Sur, our lodge.

Hostería Aires del Sur (their photo)

The “we,” having a drink on arrival, are (L to R) José Antonio, Chilean engineer; José Maria, Chilean architect; Sidney, American astrophysicist; Carlos, Chilean biochemist; and Marcos, Chilean engineer and computer entrepreneur.
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Out of bed in the dark at 7:15 the next morning, down to breakfast in our waders, and out to the cars. That’s me, on the left.

The fishing, strictly catch-and-release, is done from Catarafts, holding two fishermen and a guide who rows facing downstream, usually against the current to slow our drift and position the boat for the rapids. The fishermen cast to the banks, usually 40 to 60 feet away, with fly lines (130 to 200 grain shooting heads, 0X-1X tippets, mostly on 9’, 6 wt. rods, if you want to know) that have fast sinking tip sections 24 feet long followed by 65 feet or so of floating “running line.” That is connected to “backing,” reserve line in case a big fish “runs” and takes your whole fly line out. On the end is a clear leader of 6 to 9 feet attached to a “streamer fly” with a barbless hook. The fly, frequently a “wooly bugger,” may have a head weighted with a brass bead (a “bead head”) or may be unwieghted, carried down by the sinking line.

L to R Carlos, Javier (the guide, rowing) and José Maria

Bead head woolly bugger (Cold Springs Anglers photo)

OK…. Got the picture?
Once on the water the casting is fast and furious: Pick up the fly; one, two false casts of 30 feet then the cast, shooting another 20 to 30 feet of running line through the guides as the loop unrolls. Splat! on the water (not much delicacy here), then strip-strip-strip puling the fly in by hand fast. If you feel a weigh or pause you strike, hard, to sink the hook in the fish’s mouth. If not, cast again—behind the rock, it’s shallow, strip fast-fast-fast, a strike, fish on!

The fish is strong, can’t be held, he runs out line and goes into the backing (which, at this point, I recall is probably 30 years old, like the reel). But then he turned and I gradually won line back, until the next run, and the next. Finally, he was through. Nico, my guide, jumped out of the boat into (unexpectedly) chest deep water and I brought him to the net.

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A fine rainbow, released safely. And a happy gringo, with the biggest fly-caught trout of his life.

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We fished with the guides six days, catching and releasing up to 25 trout each per day. Or at least the Chileans did. With up to 15 years experience fishing the Rio Aluminé with these same guides they were better than us gringos, but we did okay and on the last afternoon I got 10, beating the Chileans. It made no difference to me, but Nico, long-suffering guide for Sid and me, was happy as a clam.

As great as the fishing was, there was more to the experience: food! (see Eating Chilean for more)   Each day at about 2:00 we stopped for almuerzo, “lunch,” but more like Sunday dinner. The first guide to arrive built a drift wood fire, and as the others arrived, they set up a table, broke out the tablecloth, plates, silverware, wine glasses, the wine and good whiskey, and we rested while they worked.
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First came starters: empanadas; eggplant, onions and peppers cooked like ratatouille; strips of kidneys in wine; mushrooms in cream, stacks of filled crêpes or little tarts like in the picture with Marco and José Maria

Then the main course: Argentine beef filet, strip steak or short ribs; stuffed chicken breast; pork roast stuffed with peppers; big fat raviolis in cream; all served with salads and good Chilean wine brought from home.

And then there was dessert, followed by a little more rest.

On our last evening we invited the guides to dinner in the hotel, and arranged to have chivo asado, goat cooked at a wood fire, Argentine style.

Waiting for the goat.

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There was plenty.

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The trip photo.