Altiplano, Laguna Miscanti

It will be a long day again today. We wake up at 8 o'clock in the morning, and then drive more than 100 km southwards to visit several small villages, and two lagunas high up in the Andes mountains. At around 17h30 we will be back, ... at least that is the idea.

We started in Toconao, a small “pittoresque” village, as it was described. The main attraction, and really the only attraction, is the small church with the bell tower. Our driver for the day is called Luis, and he is possibly a bigger attraction than Toconao is. When we entered Tonocao, Luis waves gleefully left and right to the inhabitants of Toconao, and jets a majestic flying kiss to a passing woman, who receives it with great delight. While we hop around town taking the obligatory pictures, Luis jumps around clownishly while he is talking to some ladies. The church is actually a nice little structure, but is very similar to the one in San Pedro de Atacama. After about 20 minutes we take off again.

A short drive brought us to the Salar de Atacama, an enormous salt flat. The salt flat developed around 100 to 145 million years ago, when the salty soil spewed out by the volcanoes was brought down the hills by rain and floods. With an area of about 3000 square kilometer it is the third largest salt flat in the world, behind Salt lake near Salt Lake City in the USA, and Salar de Uyuni in Bolivia (to which you can also take trips from San Pedro). After a brief introductory talk we walk over the salty ground towards the Salar. Even though it feels like your walking on actual salty ground, in reality it is a layer of salt, between 1 to 500 meters thick, on top of a big lake. At least that is what we were told, there is no way for us to check it now. For a long time even scientists apparently did not know what lay beneath the salt.

At several locations water comes through the salty surface layer, and accumulates in a big lake not far from us. There we see flamingos: the Chilean flamingo, the Andes flamingo and the James' flamingo, which was once thought to be extinct. It is marvelous to see these animals living in their natural habitat.

On our way to the two lagunas, we briefly stop in Solcaire to reserve lunch. Later we will return to have lunch and walk through the village. We shoot off to be on time at the Lagunas Miscanti and Miñiques. We climb higher and higher into the Andes. The roads crisscross through the landscape that changes in color from salt-white to earth-brown to snow-white. It is gorgeous. The yellow grass culms stick out from ground in geometrical shapes, and are dressed in an ankle-deep layer of snow. In the background we see the mountains, surrounded in a veil of clouds. A veil that is, worryingly, getting thicker by the minute.

At this point, the roads are also covered in snow, but that doesn't stop Luis from driving 100 km/hour; it is a bussy day, and obviously we cannot really use any form of delay. After about 1 hour driving, we arrive at a t-junction where we turn left. The road is completely covered in snow, but there is no slowing down for Luis. After about one kilometer we stop. In front of us a van, comparable to ours, is stuck on a small hill. The more the driver tries to get out the snow, the more the wheels sink into it, and the more slippery the road becomes. We watch the activity for about 10 minutes, and suddenly the van escapes. It cannot go further up the hill, and has to come down. The driver of that van is a good friend of Luis, and together they decide to take a detour to the Miscanti and Miñiques lakes. We drive back the same kilometer, and drive further across the snowy plains.

With an enormous curve we drive around two big mountain summits, in order to, it seems, drive to the lakes on a road that normally serves the return trip. After about 30 minutes the roads are covered knee-deep in snow. The van in front of us, is stuck again, but manages to escape again after about 10 minutes. We slowly head on, sometimes on the road, sometimes next to it, just where the least amount of snow is. After about 500 meters the van is stuck one more time, and this time it takes them half an hour to get the van out of the snowy trenches that it had ploughed itself just a second before. All the while Luis is looking at his friend with a big smirk on his face. The other driver decides that it was enough for today, and he drives back. Luis also turns around, but now drives in front of the other van. Again with a dizzying speed, we fly across the snow covered roads.

We sometimes jump up when we hit a pothole, or briefly feel the car lose traction on the snow. Luis keeps his pace, until at one point we are forced into some old icy tracks. We skit sideways for a few hundred anguishful milliseconds, when Luis takes back control over the van. We all look at Luis. Luis looks around over his shoulder to see our faces and put on a big boyish smile that you see on some kids when they knew they had done something dangerous but survived. And he had done something dangerous, and worse still, he kept on doing it. Although I have to say Luis did hold back in places where it was evidently dangerous, and any mistake would have most surely killed us. Still, we rushed over snowy plains most of the time as if nothing had happened, in a race to beat the slowly dying sun. We already had 2 hours delay.

Luis turns back into the small road. He does not intent to stop for the hill. The tension was high in the van as we approached the icy hill that stopped the other van before. Luis goes full throttle and we bounce uphill. The engine screams, and black plumes escape from under the van. Slowly, very slowly, we go forward. With a final leap, when the tires briefly gain traction on the frozen soil, we tumble over the crest of the hill. The van cheers in support of Luis. In front of us lies 5 kilometers of hilly road covered in snow. Everything is uphill. When this reality sinks in, the euphoria is gone.

The van drives the next 2 kilometers without any problems, until we arrive at the actual climb. Luis steps on the gas, and we begin the climb with a nice speed. After about 500 meters, all the gusto is gone. We are not moving anymore. By gassing and braking swiftly, Luis tries to get some traction, but we are not going anywhere. While slowly driving backwards, the van is parked against an earth wall that frames the road.

“We'll walk the rest”, Luis tells us, with an ever present smirk on his face. When asked how far it is, he answers “1 to one and a half hours” We all briefly look outside. It is windy, and the snow on the road is ankle-deep. Most of us are wearing sneakers; we did not anticipate a hike today. It is quite for a moment, until April says “OK, I'll go.” I loyally follow of course, and soon all but one of us choose to take the hike.

The climb is wonderful, but cold. The surroundings are vast, and the mountain chain in the distance colors dark blue, almost purple. The sun peaks through the clouds every now and then, and lights up the yellow grasses. The road is at times reasonable easy to travel, but is mostly not a stroll in the park. To get some sort of grip, I walk in the virgin snow on the side of the road. In the middle of the road, the snow is not far from turning into ice, and I often slip with my Panama Jacks with no traction. Luckily I wear shoes that are made of leather, which keeps out the melting snow. Others walk on suede shoes, and they most surely have cold toes. But I am too busy with my own ascent to be really worried about that.

We are in San Pedro de Atacama not even 4 full days, and we are already making a hike through the snow at an altitude of over 4000 meters. A headache often briefly flirts with me, but then decides not to stay. It is perhaps a sign of altitude sickness, but I will manage. The beautiful surroundings are also a big help. After about 45 minutes, April and I are at the summit. We take a brief rest, and take some pictures before heading down to a small wood cabin close to the lake. We are at Laguna Miscanti, and behind a crest of the mountain that we just climbed we can see the smaller Laguna Miñiques. The two lagunas were once one big lake, but have been separated by a lava flow from an eruption of the Miñiques volcano. We feel like we are real explorers. It is the only time that we feel alone during the holiday, and in fact are alone for all intents and purposes. We shoot some pictures and have the idea to hike to Laguna Miñiques. The only problem is that it is getting darker, and we decide to wait for the rest, and hear Luis' opinion.

We see Luis reaching the summit about 15 minutes later, and he waves at us to wait. When he arrive within hearing distance 5 minutes later, he tells us that we cannot go any further, and should go back. We finish off our trip with some pictures, and then walk back to the van.

The hike back is a lot easier. Of course, we are going downhill, but now we can also look at the gorgeously vast surroundings instead of having to look at an enormous mountaintop. When we arrive at the van, I take off my shoes and see that my shoes are soaked as well. But, I am proud to say, I vanquished the Andes on my Panama Jacks. We wait for another half an hours before everyone is back, and we then drive without incident to Solcaire, where a warm lunch is waiting for us (even though it is already 5 o'clock).

In Solcaire we enjoy a real Chilean lunch, and talk about the day, and each other holidays. After the lunch Luis gives us 10 minutes to walk around Solcaire. In the falling dusk we can just take some pictures of the two churches that adorn Solcaire. Because of the delays today, we cannot visit Quebrada de Jerez (an oasis). Luis tries to make up for this loss by still driving the same route he normally would, and to stop at the valley in which lies Quebrada de Jerez. He switches off the lights, and when our eyes are finally used to the dark he points in the direction of a large gap in the earth. We can barely make out the borders of the gap. It is too late, the sun has gone.

It was, no doubt, an engaging trip, and we arrived back in San Pedro at 20h00: a delay of about 3 hours. Even though we have not seen everything that we were promised, I would say we got a lot more excitement. That's also worth a thing or two.