Snowed In - Isla Victoria, nr Bariloche - Argentina

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Snowed In - Isla Victoria, nr Bariloche - Argentina

The expedition was due to leave Isa Victoria early on Friday 23 October. Heavy rainfall throghout the previous day had prevented much further eploration of the island on the group´s rest day. Soggy clothes and water-logged tents meant that the majority of the crew had spent the day sheltered under one of the wooded pagodas near to where we were camped. Three fires were lit in the brick kilns and provided a ready source of tea, soup, tortillas and warmth throughout the day. There was only partial shelter from the elements as many timbers in the pagoda roof were rotten and consequently exposed to the rain. Once the wind picked up in the late afternoon, the open sides of the pagoda afforded little protection against the rain which was whipped sideways through the draughty sides.

The mood amongst the team was subdued without being gloomy. A kind of upbeat gallows humour prevailed on the prospect of spending another wet night under canvas and then breaking camp in the wet the following morning.

As the wind increased, we could hear groans and creaks from the nearby forest as trees swayed and knocked against one another. Our previous excursions on the island had revealed that a large number of trees were either dead or dying, due to a mixture of neglect, drought and over-competition from invasive species. This gave whole areas of the island a greying aged quality, as tall rotten trunks towered several hundred feet into the sky, supported only by the flimsy bark and canopy of the trees around them.

Sometimes it was possible to bring these trees down merely by leaning against them, as several of our party had discovered during earlier sorties across the island. Now there could be no doubt that the wind was bringing further trees to the ground as the sound of dead and splintereing bark sounded across the night air.

Late that evening, two of the expedition who had braved the foul weather returned to advise us that several trees had fallen across the main road which was to be our only route towards the port the following morning. The trees were too large to move from the road, so we would either be required to walk the three miles or so to the port fully laden with tents, food, stoves and gear or find some way of asking the rangers of the island to remove the obstruction so that we could make the journey by vehicle. This prospect only served to subdue spirits further as the expedition went to bed.

The rain persisted through the night - creating a continual and rythmical drumming on the tent roof, while the increasing winds flapped against the loose and broken flaps at the tent door making sleep difficult. These broken flaps also provided ready access for the rain into the tent, as well as an entrance for numerous worms which had to be removed on several occasions.

Waking in the tent after a disturbed night, it seemed as though the heavy rain had ceased, since only the slightest patter of precipitation could be heard on the roof above our heads. There was a stillness in the air too, as the wind blown itsef out during the early hours of the morning. In our tent, my companions and I were therefore hopeful that we would not be required to break camp and walk that morning in the heavy rain as we had feared.

To our surpirse on opening the tent flaps, we discovered that the tent, ground, bushes and trees were all covered by a substantial coating of snow - something that none of the expedition had expected from the day before. Notwithstanding the youthful excitement that almost always accompanies a fall of fresh snow, the mood in camp was improved no end by the thought that snow was infinitely preferable to rain when making our way to port.

The only members of the expedition who proved the exception to the rule were the two Australians, Dave and Liz, who had been continually disgruntled and out of sorts with the cold weather since the start of the trip. Coming from a desert ranger station in Western Australia, they considered anything less than 25 degrees cold, and had been wearing six or seven layers of clothing on most days. Dave´s blunt and uncompromising reaction to seeing the snowfall was to let out a loud exclamation of ´We´re buggered!´

Three other expedition members and I were sent out to scout the road to the port to ascertain whether further tree fall had blocked the path. The route was an unpaved single carriageway track through the forest - a fine frosting of snow still drifting in the air, occasionally turning to a heavier flurry. Snow lay heavy on the boughs of the trees arching over the road, shimmering in the early morning light and still creaking beneath its weight. The lake, which only a few days before in the sunlighthad shone a rich, still and sparkiling blue, now appeared grey and heavy amidst the low cloud and gathering mist. High mountains rose across the far side of the lake, but these were now all but hidden from view, as only a few isolated peaks and crags jutted out from where the cloud had thinned to a pale white.

We found the blockage to the path, an dit was clear that the trees could not be moved by hand, even if our entire expedition were to undertake the task. Two sturdy dead trees had fallen one on top of the other - the tops of which stretched several metres beyond the path edge. We cleared the debis of loose branches from the road and went on ahead to see if there were further blockages.

Finding none we returned to base. Rangers on the island were then advised of the situation and they confirmed that it would be necessary to clear the way with chainsaws before we could pass. We waited an hour or so for their arrival, preparing the gear for the onward journey. Once they arrived, we loaded the expedition equipment into trailers and followed behind on foot. Even though the wind had died, we still made our way cautiously through the forest, as the trees still swayed above us with the weight of the snow, and falling trees could be heard further off in the distance.

Upon our arrival at the port, we were informed of alterations to our onward journey. One group was to continue as planned to Lago Steffen on the wild boar trapping exercise; the other group, of which I was a part, was to return to base camp at La Lipela near Bariloche for a couple of days. The severe weather had prevented our planned journey to Baguales, since this was a heavily forested area, and the risk of camping was too great while trees were still being blown down or falling under the weight of snow. This was a welcome relief - after a week under canvas on the island, the prospect of cooking inside on a proper kitchen stove and being able to wash tolerably well in the stream was to be enjoyed.

The crossing from Isla Victoria back to Llao Llao was rough without being particularly discomforting. Our onward journey had been characterised by crowds of tourists eagerly standing on the open top dekcs feeding the numerous birds which had hovered over the boat. Now, with the exception of a couple of elderly residents at the hotel on the island, and a couple of permanent national park volunteers, we were the only passengers.

Fewer still ventured outside onto deck of whom I was one. I enjoyed the surging of the waves, the lurch of the boat through the waters and the feeling of spray and cold wind upon my face. I wondered briefly if I should take up sailing on my return to England, and whether it would be difficult to become a captain of a ship. The sight of the lake and mountains in the snowfall made a strong, almost mystical impression upon me. The far side of the lake was set by ridge upon ridge of hills and mountains, each rising higher and higher into the distance until they became indistinguishable from the sky. Cloud, snow and mist became one substance gathering in the valleys and floating just above the tops of gently snow-covered trees. I knew that experiences such as these were one of the reasons I had come to Patagonia, and I wondered seriously for the first time whether a trip to Antarctica from Ushuaia in the Tierra del Fuego might be a genuine possibility, for it seemed certain that I would see sights such as these and more were I to make a trip down there. A large cruise line did not appeal, but a small ice-breaker did seem an attractive option.

We were met by the expedition land rovers on our arrival in port. Snow was general over large areas of the Americas. Our group leader, Katie, informed us that the Spanish news was reporting snowfall across the Sierra Nevadas - very rarely seen at this time of year - and that her friends in North America had told her the US ski resorts were experiencing their earliest snowfall for some time. Closer to home, the gaucho Juan Carlos who owned the land where our camp was based had said he had never known snow to to persist so late into the spring as this. It seems that many places I have travelled recently have reported unusual weather patterns - both differences in warmth and cold. Climates really do seem to be changing and in ways that are different general predictions too.

Following our return to camp, we pitched tents and prepared for dinner. The tents had to be set up on higher ground that before as the stream in camp was running high due to the snowfall from the mountains, and our previous sitre was in danger of flooding. This was the warning of Juan Carlos and we treated his words with respect. The only riskin our new site was a tendency for scorpions to inhabit the area - so we made certain that all inner tent doors were securely fastended, and made a mental note to ensure that all walking boots were thoroughly searched in the morning before putting them on.

There was a group of twelve of us, and I cooked up a large meal of chilli and rice for the expedition, ensuring that there were plenty of peppers for extra heat in the cold. A guitar was found in the back of the hut, and a group member from Scotland called Keith played 80s ballads into the night. As we returned out to the tents for bed, the sky was almost clear, just a soft dull haze half-concealing the moon. Further snow is forecast for tomorrow and we are confined to camp until conditions improve.

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