We're goin' on a glacier hunt

Before I head back to the States, Collin and I hoped to fit in a couple more adventures in the mountains of Bolivia.  Mid-March, we headed to the Quimsa Cruz range to explore the glaciated area  on a three day camping trip.

"banderazo"

A couple days before we left, we realized that in the middle of our route, the Bolivian government was going to shut down half the interstate in order to stretch a 200km flag from Oruro to La Paz in support of Bolivia's case to regain lost territory from Chile and access to the ocean.  They were calling it the "banderazo" (the super big, huge flag), and citizens all over the country were encouraged to come and participate.  It was a really bizarre form of inconvenience, but ended up being quite interesting to see the miles and miles of fabric stretched along the opposite side of the interstate.  We arrived at that section of the highway just in time to see the helicopters fly over (supposedly containing Chilean authorities) and the people on the ground waving the flag.  Bolivia presented it's case at the Hague beginning in mid-March.

traffic jam on Bolivian interstate

The interstate was relatively free of traffic during the spectacle, other than about a half an hour stretch where there was some confusion about who should be driving where, and we sat motionless for awhile until Collin decided to off-road it to get around the traffic snarl.

campsite the first night

After finding what we thought was a pretty good camp spot the first night, we realized partway through the night that there was a significant amount of traffic that passes along that road, and even more so as buses full of people from remote towns were returning from supporting the banderazo.  We also realized how much camping around 15,000ft can affect the body, especially at night, as we battled headaches, nausea and just overall feeling yucky.

The following morning, we went up and over a 16,900ft pass to get to a mine-filled basin with several glaciers.  Last year, Matias did a science project and presentation about glaciers, and ever since has been fascinated by the idea of seeing one in person.  The Quimsa Cruz range is full of glaciers, and we were determined to find at least one of them up close.

The pass we drove over had all sorts of superstitious paraphernalia heaped at the top, as most travelers stop at the top to drink out of small alcohol bottles, stack up rocks and say a prayer to Pachamama (the Earth Goddess) to protect them on their journey.

In addition to glaciers, Matias is currently obsessed with rocks and finding new ones for his collection.  Mountains filled with mines was a perfect place for Matias to grow his rock collection, and we usually ended back at the car after a hike a pound or two heavier than when we began.

 

The second day, we drove up an old mining road to get as close as we could by car to the glacier, and then clambered up scree fields and slabs of rock to see the glacier up close.  We were thwarted by an icy blue lake at the base of the glacier, but Matias was feeling the altitude anyway, so we headed back down.

The first glacier we hiked to

On our way back down the valley, around 13,000 or 14,000ft, we came across an idyllic meadow and decided to stop.  It was the mother-of-all picnic spots to eat our lunch the second day in the lush green meadow, filled with red and pink alpine flowers that looked like small crocuses.  A shepherdess in a deep pink skirt was grazing her llamas in the field, and the stream meandered through the meadow in oxbows.  It was only when we tried to sit down on the soft looking grass that we realized the grass was more like cactus and had tiny spines that hurt like crazy.  Once we pulled out our sleeping pads to sit on, it was pleasant to sit down.  The weather oscillated wildly from snow and sleet when we first arrived, to bright sunshine, back to wind and cloudy weather at the end that had us taking off and putting on our layers in rapid fashion.  It sure didn't feel like we were as high as a Colorado 14er, as lush as our surroundings were, especially after venturing almost 3,000ft higher earlier in the day.

We drove back down the valley, up again to the main road, and then wound our way back down into a deep jungle valley, only to pull off on a dirt road and climb back up to 14,000 or 15,000 ft again.  The road we took was maintained by the countless mining operations higher up in the valley, but there were still portions of the road that reminded me of 4WD roads high in the mountains in Colorado, and cliffs that plunged hundreds of feet below, just beyond the road's edge.  We drove past countless waterfalls and at least one glacial lake before we found a more secluded camp spot than the night before on the shores of another glacial lake.  After cooking up a quick meal of cookstove spaghetti, we climbed in our tent and had enough service to call the States, calling my dad from way up in the Bolivian Andes all the way to Carbondale, Colorado, all on my dinky little cellphone.

The view from our tent the next morning was pretty spectacular from both angles, looking down the valley at the green jungle mountains, the road winding it's way on the steep hillsides, and glacial lakes sparkling below.  Looking up the valley was equally impressive, as the high peaks were swathed in ever-changing mist and we could see cars wind their ways up impossibly steep and narrow roads over passes that looked impassable even on foot.

Matias digging for special rocks

  Our final day, we drove further up the valley, passing major mining operations, heavy equipment, and lots of barracks for the miners until we reached the end of the road at the head of the valley, just under a bowl filled with glaciers.  After a short hike, we were able to actually reach the glaciers this time, tasting the glacier water dripping from the underside, climbing on the very edge, and looking at the fine glacial debris scattered all around where the glacier had been not that long ago, maybe even since the last hard rain.

I dared Collin to wade in the little pond that had collected at the base of the glacier, and as I walked across the sand to a rock where I was going to take my own shoes off to wade, I suddenly sank up to my knee with one step and my shin with the other as I lurched my way towards solid ground.  It was the closest I had ever gotten to true quicksand, and I think I could've easily ended up in sand up to my waist had I gotten stuck and tried to thrash my way out.  Yikes!

The vistas were amazing; impossible to truly capture on camera, like most places really worth visiting.  This time we didn't feel the altitude as much, even though we were almost as high as the other places we'd gone the day before.  Cochabamba was still about 8 hours away, though, and we needed to get most of the drive done before it got dark, so we turned around and headed home.

the mining camps below the last glacier
(a road cuts up to an impossible pass in the second to last major notch on the right of the picture) 

We drove back down the same winding road, past the glaciated lakes, under crazy overhangs, through several tunnels, past waterfalls that fell right next to the road, and then finally back onto the main road, which took us on paved roads for most of the way back home.

This is the place on the blog where I write some sort of deep reflection, meaning I extracted from our trip, or neatly tie up the story.  It was just a fun trip.  Nothing more.  Lots of beauty, lots of uncomfortable physical experiences to access remote and interesting places, but I had no major revelations, nor did I come away from the trip with anything more than a tired body and a happy heart.

colorful quinoa fields we passed on the drive home across the altiplano