The End.

After spending the past 14 months circling the globe we've finally arrived at the figurative "End of the World" in Ushuaia, Argentina. Being the southern most city in the world, we figure it's a fitting end to our journey. We're finally coming home mothers!

There's no going any further - Ushuaia, Argentina: The End of the World.

Tomorrow we fly back to Minnesota but before that we're spending our last day enjoying some fine Chilean cuisine.

Rachel devouring some tasty Patagonian Hare:

Thanks to everyone for reading and following along on our trip. We appreciated your comments and hope you enjoyed traveling the world with us.

Stay tuned...we still have a few posts left in us to wrap up the trip. And, hopefully, in a few months we'll let you know where we're moving to. A whole new adventure awaits!

Fishing Tales

Part I: In Search of Big Fish

I had high expectations for the flyfishing in Patagonia, hoping it would rival, or even surpass, New Zealand in terms of size and number of trout. As it turns out, everything about fishing in Patagonia has been extreme: the raging currents, the relentless winds, the frigid water, the unaccessible rivers, and the inpenetratable forests lining the banks. Plus, there is almost no information to be found anywhere on the when/where/hows of fishing here. Unless you're willing to fork over thousands of dollars a week to fish with a guide at one of the lodges, you're literally on your own here. It definitely makes for an adventure.

Besides a few excellent days filled with small to medium sized fish, Patagonia fishing has been tough. As we're nearing the end of our time here I've been searching for that one last BIG fish to end the trip on....

The day started like most of them here in Patagonia: wake up at our parking/camp spot along a river, a leisurely breakfast with Rachel's French-pressed coffee, and then head out in search of some good fishing. The river we camped near turned out to be a bust and the pouring rain sent me back to the van before I wasted more time. Our next stop wasn't looking much better: the shallow, tea-colored water looked anything but "fishy". Being the eternal optimist, I left Rachel to read in the warmth of the van while I headed out into the lovely elements...barely above freezing temps, 30 mph winds, and occasional rain.

To make a long fishing story short, the bad weather made for some great fishing. I ended up catching two fat 21" brown trout, my biggest since New Zealand, along with a handful of smaller fish in just a few hours.

We camped along the river, feasting on the one big trout I kept, and went to bed with high hopes for the following day.

Part II: The 20" Brown...

I'm not afraid to admit I haven't been pulling my weight when it comes to putting meat on the table. I'll fish with full focus and determination the first few hours (Dustin would most likely say the first half-hour) but then my mind starts to wander, I get distracted or tired, and if it's bitterely cold out my attention ultimately goes to my frozen fingers.

But, today was different. The sun was shining and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. We hadn't had weather this nice in over a month. I walked along side Dustin with renewed enthusiasm. After hiking in for an hour we came across some good water so we quickly put the rods together and formulated the "game plan".

Since we brought one fly rod and one spinning rod my inexperience in the Chilean winds made me the most likely candidate for the spinning rod. As I sat watching Dustin meticuously tie on the lure, I thought if either of us were to catch one of the big browns in the river surely it would be him (plus he had already caught a few of them yesterday). His experience and patience would prevail over my mindless, ill-positioned, high-arched casts.

Somehow, my second cast of the morning dropped in precisely the right spot...or at least somewhat close to where I wanted it to go, and all of a sudden I felt a tug at the end of the line. Fish on! My mind raced as I thought of everything I needed to do to ensure I would land this fish.

The fish stayed deep in the water and was determined not to show himself to early in the fight. Dustin caught a glimpse of him as he got ready with the net and informed me it was a "nice one." The fish must have known I only wanted his picture for he gave up after putting up a tough 12 minute fight.

As Dustin scooped him up in the net it was obvious he was a beautiful brown trout. His golden body was flecked with black and red spots and literally glistened in the sun. I held him just long enough to snap a few pictures before releasing him back to his home...or before we had second thoughts!

The 20" Brown was caught on my second cast and was the only fish of the day. Although the weather was great for fishing, it wasn't the best for catching. No complaining though....he's the biggest trout I've ever caught.

Patagonian Highlights

Since our last post we've visited a few of the highlights of Patagonia...Mt. Fitz Roy and Perito Moreno Glacier in Argentina's Los Glaciares Nat'l Park and Torres del Paine Nat'l Park in Chile. The very touristy cities built to support the masses of travelers visiting the sights were a far cry from the dusty little towns we've been in the past 3+ weeks. Putting up with the hoards of tourists, and ridiculous tourist prices to match, was a small price to pay for some amazing scenery.

We were only given fleeting glimpses of Mt. Fitz Roy during our rainy, snowy, windy 15 mile hike near El Chalten, Argentina:


It didn't matter that it was freezing and rained every second we were there, Perito Moreno Glacier was amazing. We were the first ones there and had the place to ourselves for the first two hours. To our amazement, we found glaciers are similar to campfires and waves on an ocean...we could stare at them for hours. We watched numerous huge chunks of ice clave off and crash into the water.


The sun FINALLY came out for our 12 mile hike in Torres del Paine:


Torres del Paine provided some of the best views of our entire trip:

Lazy, Rainy Days...

We had grand plans for today: Wake up at 6am to get an early start on the 15 mile round-trip trek to Laguna de los Tres at the base of Mount Fitz Roy. Unfortunately, our 6am wake-up call greated us with the sound of rain falling on our van's roof. Not wanting to do an 8 hour hike in the rain for supposedly amazing views completely obstructed by clouds, we decided to wait out the rain in the van. If there's one thing we've learned after a month in Patagonia, it's that the weather changes fast down here. It hasn't been uncommon for us to go from two baselayers, a fleece, raincoat, and a winter hat to t-shirts, and then back again, in the span of an hour.

Well...8 hours after waking up we're still laying in the van waiting for the weather to clear. On the bright side, we're finally putting a dent in the pile of books and magazines that haven't received much attention while we've spent long days playing outside.

Since we have plenty of downtime, it's time to write about a couple of random topics we've been thinking about:

Foreign Language:

One of the biggest drawbacks of traveling to multiple countries in a single trip like we've done this past year is not being able to learn the local language. Besides the two years of foreign language in highschool that has been long forgotten, (German for Rachel & Spanish for Dustin), we've tried to learn at least a few words everywhere we've been. But, "hello", "please", "thank you", and "beer" only get you so far. Here in Patagonia (which, along with Eastern Europe, has had the fewest English speakers of anywhere we've been) we've often been asked how we manage to travel, and get around in our own vehicle, without speaking the local language.

The only thing we can come up with is that we've become professionals in communicating in every way but speaking. We're fluent in hand gestures. All those years of playing Pictonary have come in handy when we need to draw what we can't gesture. We're experts at reading facial expressions. It's amazing what you can understand just by listening to the way someone says something. And, when all else fails, we've found a smile goes a long, long way. Although we've definitely missed out on being able to have conversations with some interesting locals, some of the most enjoyable, genuine interactions we've had with people took place when neither of us spoke more than a few words of the others language.

Argentine Beef:

While us Americans eat our fair share of beef (70 lbs per year per person), the folks in Argentina put us to shame in the carnivore competition. They comsume an astonishing 160 lbs of beef every year. Since we always try to eat as much of the local food as possible, we've had no choice but to enjoy plenty of red meat since we arrived into Argentina. Even in the small town grocery stores, where you're lucky to find a half-ripe banana or unbruised tomato, you can get a delicious steak. And, at barely over $2 for an 8-ounce fillet mignon, we've been eating very well. The funniest part...after driving 400 miles through some of the biggest estancias in Patagonia, we have yet to see a single cow.

The Infamous Ruta 40

Since there is no road connecting central and southern Chile we were left with three choices after leaving the estancia: 1) Backtrack 10 hours and take a very long, expensive ferry along the Chilean coast. 2) A long detour through Argentina and then a drive south along the Atlantic coast on all paved roads. 3) A short detour to Argentina and then a straight shot south on the infamous Ruta 40. According to our guidebook, "Ruta 40 is not a road to be taken lightly. A good toolkit, food, an extra tank of gas, and a couple of spare tires will definitely come in handy. Frequent suicide bids by the resident sheep are also common, so beware."

Our thoughts: "Let's see...no toolkit, no extra gas can, only one spare tire, and a low-clearance, unreliable vehicle. But we have plenty of food, and more importantly, plenty of wine. Plus, if we hit one of those suicidal lambs we could add to our food stash..." If you've followed our trip this long you'll have no problem guessing which option we chose. The long, barren stretch of Ruta 40 sounded like too much of an adventure to pass up. Plus, since it follows the eastern edge of the Andes, and is therefore in its rainshadow, it receives almost no rain...The perfect reprieve from the nearly constant rain we endured in Chile.

Although we were expecting the worst, Ruta 40 went relatively easy on us (and our Wicked van). We spent just over a day covering the 350 very empty miles from Perito Moreno to El Chalten, easily averaging a solid 35mph. Besides a few sections of very rocky, muddy, and/or rutted road, the drive was much easier and smoother than the grueling Carretera Austral we drove in Chile. Our Wicked van amazingly held up without any problems. She even seemed to enjoy her newly acquired thick coating of mud.

Ruta 40 is a long, lonely road:

Getting dirty on the Ruta 40: