Leland Torrence
Journal from Condor Valley – (2/4/2013) – (4/29/2013)

List of packed luggage

• 5 pairs of pants
• 2 pairs of shorts
• Bathing Suit
• Rain Coat
• 2 Sweat shirts
• Pull over sweater
• 5 T-shirts
• 2 Tank tops
• 4 L/S Shirts
• Under Wear
• Lots of Socks!
• Hat (This is your protection from the sun)!
• Towel
• Hiking Boots
• Work Boots/ Cowboy Boots
• Sneakers
• Head Lamp!
• Sunglasses
• Head Phones / I-pod
• Laptop
• Sleeping Bag
• Toiletry
• Books / Journals
• Goods
• BUG SPRAY
• 3 Bottles of Whisky
• 2 lbs of Pistachios
• ½ lbs of Coffee
• 10 pairs of work gloves (Work gloves are like gold on the farm)
• $8,500 (Bringing dollars from the owners in the States to Argentina is very helpful!)

Week One

My trip started on February fourth (2013), from New York City. I had a cross over in Atlanta, GA and then in Buenos Aires finishing my flights in Salta.

(2/5/2013) -There are freedoms in Argentina that do not exist in the United States. I learned this when I stepped off the plane in Salta. The rugged terrain is very tough to tame and the people are a reflection of this. The land, people, and government are very wild!
I had no way of contacting Martin when I got off the plane. I had no Pesos or phone. When I walked towards the exit of the airport he was waiting there! I jumped in his truck and he began explaining some of Argentina’s history and politics. He is an excellent guide and storyteller! We drove to a motor bike shop, in Salta, and put a down payment on a new motorcycle. Martin’s sons Bruno and Dario were waiting there. All three of them were extremely kind and hospitable from the beginning. After the bike shop we had a few beers and headed to the Hosteria in Chicoana. There I was given my room, number 7, and given a very warm welcoming first evening. The following morning we would leave for the farm for the week.

(2/7/2013) – I did not get to write my first night at Estancia la Bodega because by the time I went to sleep at midnight I was completely exhausted. The property is a paradise! We drove in through dirt roads, small rundown towns, and into the massive valley that is Estancia la Bodega and El Tipal (Condor Valley). It is like no place I have been before, a beautiful valley surrounded by mountains in the north west of Argentina with people living and working off of the land. With no electricity, wells, or cell phone reception! It is a very different style of life than I am used to and I am loving it!

(2/8/2013) – Martin and his boys speak perfect English. They are very in tune with nature. Martin is full of interesting philosophies and views of life and nature. I can listen to him tell stories forever. Today we hand seeded a large field and re-routed water ditches to water a field. At lunch we had pork prepared in a big mud brick oven and a mashed vegetable side dish, and then soup, and then a pear based dessert. You eat a lot here! I had never seen so many flies and mosquitoes in my life as I did today. I am really swollen and itchy.

(2/9/2013) – Last night Martin left for town (Chicoana) and Bruno and I stayed on the ranch. Bruno is very intelligent and nice. He told me “I always finish what I start” (and I learned this is very true). He is a very hard worker. Between Martin and his sons Bruno and Dario they are some of the most cultured and interesting people I have ever met, yet they spend most of their weeks completely isolated from the world, out on the ranch.

Notes from week one

‘Although there are so many deadly things on the ranch (animals, reptiles, bugs, plants, weather, etc…) they don’t seem to matter. What I am realizing is in life something is always working with you and against you, and here that is nature.’

I am used to camping but have never been isolated from modern technologies for extended periods of time, especially when working. But I am loving it, it forces you to be more creative.

It is amazing how useful some of the dogs are! They aren’t just pets, they are great workers!

Week Two

(2/10/2013) – Last night (Saturday) we went to two birthday parties that were very nice. One was for a little girls first birthday. There they played gangnam style 5 times! The language barrier and lack of alcohol made it difficult to communicate at the parties but I had a very good experience. Today I went to a sort of farmers market / traditional dancing / and concert in the central plaza across from the Hosteria. I helped Olga and Pilla (good friends of Martin) set up a jewelry stand and we traded some gems. Also I bought a very nice bracelet from them.

(2/11/2013) – Today Bruno picked me up and we went to El Tipal which is 12 kilometers past Estancia la Bodega, on Condor Valley. I drove from la Bodega on an ATV following a tractor and truck, it took about 1.5 hours to get there. As I right this the cook is cooking steak and rice over an open fire.

(2/12/2013) –When we woke up at 7 today Bruno’s truck had a flat tire. We have no jack here, on El Tipal, so we jacked the truck up with a long stick (like a lever). We spent the rest of the day digging a water ditch.
Tonight is very nostalgic. The table, which is made out of a door, is lit up by a mason jar full of diesel with a rope stuck through the lid, the shadows from your headlight cast shapes across the desert landscape, the stars light up the sky brighter than I have ever seen, you can see every constellation, and shooting stars.

(2/15/2013) – So much is going on and it is difficult to write it all down. Wednesday at El Tipal the tractor broke, the breaks on the truck broke, one of the tires on the truck popped, and while driving back to la Bodega to get tools one of the ATV tires popped forcing Bruno to walk a good distance. Everyone kept high spirits throughout and arranged repairs for everything. The following morning at la Bodega Bruno and I woke up at 5:30 am to harvest grapes for wine. We had a cup of Yerba Mate and some bread and then went to the vineyard with headlamps and raincoats. It was completely dark when we started working and thundering and raining. It was great to work harvesting grapes, they are such a tasty treat for a weary worker. Around noon Martin and I took all 750 kilos of grapes to Cafayate, about 150 k from the farm, to Carlos for wine production. It took about 3 hours through amazing landscapes and geological formations. Cafayate is a beautiful little wine town! We unloaded the grapes, had lunch, and headed back to the ranch.

Notes from week two

- Bruno’s Rhodesian ridge back Rujna is one of the best dogs I have ever encountered. She can hunt, heard, and guard very well.

- Carnaval (a traditional sort of parade) was very fun. Everyone sprays each other with silly string and throws water and flower in each other’s hair. There are many dancers, costumes, and festivities, I had a lot of fun. I went with Dario Lopez the nephew of Sylvanna (the wife of Martin). I was very lucky to catch it for it only occurs once a year in Chicoana!

- Chewing coca leaves is very helpful while working.

- Picadillo is chopped and canned horse meat!

- Two other interns, Charlie and Nina, arrived this weekend and are very nice. It is nice to have some Americans around!

Notes from week three

- This week Tati (the head gaucho on the farm) gave us a ride from Chicoana to Condor Valley. It was a very tightly packed car ride!

-Another Intern Hana Fancher arrived this week. She seems very nice and seems to know a good deal about horses. She has much more experience than I with cattle and horses, she grew up on a large ranch in Wyoming.

- Back at El Tipal this week Bruno and I grew very sick. I woke up with a very high fever (my piss felt like lava and my dreams were very scary and twisted) I had a bad stomachache, cramps, diarrhea, joint pains from head to toe, and a splitting head ache. Also Bruno and I had a few good spider bites and were pretty swollen so I decided to stay back from the ditch digging and start cooking lunch. By the time the crew got back for lunch I felt like I might die and Bruno even said he was feeling pretty terrible. So we took the motorcycle back to la Bodega and spent the rest of the week in bed and then the entire weekend in Chicoana in bed. Finally recovering for the following week of work.

Notes from week four

- During our drive into the ranch this week we saw a dead coral snake on the road. We stopped and bagged the little deadly serpent. When we arrived at the farm Bruno taught me how to skin the snake and we laminated the side frames of my sunglasses with coral snake skin!!

- When I arrived I had very long hair. The heat and dirt turned it quickly into an uncontrollable mess so Nina gave me a nice hair cut this week.

- Louis and Pachi (gauchos) slaughtered a cow this week! I had never been involved in any sort of slaughtering before and it was an unbelievable experience. This was the sort of thing I came for. Living off the land and being connected to the origin of my food. We had a delicious dinner that night and it felt great having been involved in the process of turning an animal to food!

- This week on El Tipal while working on a water ditch we discovered an Indian funerary krater. Martin believes it to be over 500 years old! We excavated the site finding hundreds of pieces of other pots, suggesting that it might be an old Indian graveyard and even found some bones!

Notes from week five

-I would call this week the Week of the Shovel! I worked harder this week than any! I spent everyday digging holes for fence posts and water ditches. All day everyday this week, at El Tipal, digging!

- On Friday Hana and Nina brought horses out to El Tipal and Charlie and I got to ride back to Estancia la Bodega! This was my best experience yet, here. I had so much fun!!!

- The shovel, the machete, and the knife are the most important tools here and allow you to do 90 percent of your daily work. You will have these three with you always.

Notes from week six

- This was Charlie and Nina’s last week on the ranch. Charlie came to El Tipal to work for the week. Bruno let us take it easy and didn’t work us much since it was his last week so we spent a lot of time talking and drinking wine.
In between boxes of wine and cigarettes we were digging a massive water ditch all week.
Sunday was Charlie and Nina’s last day. It was Saint Patrick’s Day and Martin had never celebrated it before! So we gave him a very nice first Saint Patrick’s Day enhanced by two liters of whisky, a box of wine, and two liters of beer!

Notes from week 7

(3/18/2013) (Monday) – Today we went to Salta for buying parts and searching for materials to start my hoop house project. Running around Salta is fun but can be very frustrating. Trying to find common things in Salta can turn into an intense scavenger hunt. My day in the city made me realize what sort of temptations you face in urban/ industrialized areas.

(3/19/2013) – Today Hana and I cleared the space where the hoop house should go and burned the chopped brush.

(3/21/2013) – I heard an airplane fly over the farm today. Being way out on El Tipal, feeling like civilization is very far, this reassured me that I was not lost in time. Also today I was walking a water ditch and 4 meters in front of me stood a fox starring right at me. We looked at each other until I moved and he darted into the bush disappearing in seconds.

(3/24/2013) – Today Hana and I went with Tati Gonza and his family to a ‘rodeo festival’. It was actually a lot like other sorts of festivals I have been to, people selling everything you could imagine, food stands, and partying, except the main event was a guy riding a wild bucking horse. Tati was famous at the rodeo, everyone knew him. The announcers were spending half of the time announcing and the other half talking to Tati through the microphones. There was a traditional folk guitarist doing a live score of the entire festival, non-stop, singing and doing a poetic narration of what was happening. During the rodeo there were two close calls but no one was seriously injured. It was weird sitting there and watching so many great horse-man get on untamed bucking horses and hoping well ‘I hope one of these guys takes a good fall or one of these poor horses just jumps into the crowd and runs away’. The event was a great experience! I learned a lot about the gaucho culture here. On the ride home from the rodeo there were 8 people in the cab of the truck and 4 in the back!

– Hana’s new nickname is Chata which translates to flat.

– The area we cleared for the hoop house is tilled and hopefully we can get the materials to build soon.

– The reservoir we have been working on at El Tipal is done and we released the water to start filling it up. Watching the water pool at the bottom of the reservoir that we have been working on for months, was a great feeling, I had goose bumps.

Notes from week eight

This week on the way to the farm Martin and I nearly hit a dog in the middle of the road, in Moldes (the last town before the ranch), only to watch the truck behinds us run right over the dog.

We went to El Tipal and the Reservoir is completely full! Again my hair stood up!

This week we spent a few days closing off fields, fixing fences, and rebuilding a few.

Dario (Martin’s younger son) returned from Austria this week. He is my age and since his return we are having a great time drawing and listening to music together.

Sunday was Easter and we had a great asado (BBQ). There were lots of friends and family of Martin and I really felt at home.

Notes from week nine

This week we went to a trout farm and bought fresh trout for dinner!
Martin, Hana, and I were working on repairing a fence out in the bush when we completely lost our orientation. It was like we walked one way and ended up right where we started, marking every wrong trail with our machetes, leading to even more confusion. It was like the forest was enchanted.

The gauchos have a very odd relationship with animals. For the most part they train dogs and horses with fear rather than trust. It is very rough and tough, the life of a gaucho!

Notes from week ten

Hana, Bruno, Dario, and I went to El Tipal for the week. When I opened the door to Bruno and my room at El Tipal, a snake tail slithered into a hole in the corner of the room, as I peeled back my sheets to check for intruders I noticed a rat nest dug through my sheets and into my mattress with six baby rats inside! I killed these little guys and flipped my mattress over. Since everyone had started calling me Ernesto because they thought I look like a young Ernesto Che Guevara I now became ‘Ernesto de las rattas’ or ‘Ernest from the rats’.

I became friendly this week with Sal Fina (fine salt). A tattered, dirty, old dog with almost no teeth. He is very funny because he tries to be aggressive and hunt wild boars but since he doesn’t have most of his teeth he is constantly getting beaten up.
This week Hana and I rode out of the farm in the bed of Bruno’s truck on Friday night. It was beautiful looking out over the Dique Cabra Coral as the sun set and stars began to reflect off the water’s surface and drinking Salta beer. I have really fallen in love with this place.

Notes from week eleven

- This week Hank and Erik arrived. It was great to finally meet Hank and we had a slow work-week since they were visiting. We got to go on a horse outing for a day and relax. Both Hank and Erik were very nice and we had a wonderful week with them

-Many nights I find myself walking to the colonial house around midnight (from the loft) mysteriously intrigued by the eyes glowing red and white off the side of the trail, from the gleam of my head lamp. Other times I find myself very afraid especially when I think the red eyes looking at me are that of a rabbit and just as you get closer the eyes take flight and you realize it was a bird. This is where common sense and folklore make you a little jumpy on some of the walks at night. Horses have been killed by mountain lions on the farm! I saw jaguar tracks a few weeks ago, which is a good reason to fear the night. Also the locals are very superstitious about spirits and creatures of the night.

- This weekend I went to two large asados (BBQ’s) they were so delicious and there was so much meat that I could not stop eating beef for about 12 hours. Unfortunately I ate so much that I threw up!

My last week

My last week Bruno, Dario, Hana, and I made a road trip to Catamarca to put a down payment on a few thousand nut trees! The journey took three days and twenty-four hours of driving! It was a great experience and I got to see some of the other provinces of Argentina and some great natural land-marks! We returned to the ranch Wednesday for the rest of the week.
On my last day Hana and I rounded up two horses and rode all day. We rode all over the property and it was a great conclusion to my first and hopefully not last stay at Condor Valley. This night was a full moon and all of the creatures came out to bid me a farewell. I saw a viper, an alacran, a tarantula, and a san Jorge! The following morning while leaving and saying my goodbyes I had an experience that I will never forget. One of the workers Nato looked at me and knew I was leaving. He put his head on my shoulder and started crying as if I were his brother going off to war. He then took his hat off and gave it to me and I took mine off and gave it to him. It was one of the most touching and memorable moments of my life. I couldn’t believe a man that didn’t know me very well could care so much about me. It was unexplainable.

I had a wonderful last week and am very sad to go. I feel like Condor valley has become my home and the people on it, my family. I remember feeling heart sick about leaving my girlfriend for three months but now I feel that way about leaving my family here. I cannot wait to come back!

Quotes from Condor Valley

“My Rhodesian Ridge Back had 10 babies, one survived so I named him decimal.”- Martin Pekerek

“The bugs here are painfully bad. It is hard not to itch but at the end of the day I am too tired to anyway” – Leland Torrence

“Blood is hot here” – Bruno Pekerek

“Virtual friends? Its like Bruno does no facebook, no e-mail, no phone calls, cut all of the shit and focus on what is in front of you!” – Martin Pekerek

“The sound of bugs buzzing around my head has started to sound like monks chanting, when I focus.” – Leland Torrence

Condor Valley Notes

Before arriving at Condor Valley I had no idea of what to expect. Pictures and testimonials cannot manage to capture the spirit of the land or the vastness of its beauty. On my second day in Argentina we drove into Estancia La Bodega (the main farm of Condor Valley) and there really are no words to explain the drive in. You snake around one of the biggest water dams in northern Argentina (the Dique Cabra Coral), following a road into a giant canyon with beautiful cliff faces on either side (this is where the property begins). There is an unbelievable amount of wildlife, cows standing in the middle of the road, horses running, massive towering cactuses, and many components that build the beautiful and breathtaking landscape that is Condor Valley.

I came to Condor Valley anticipating that building a simple hoop house for the ranch would be a relatively cheap and simple job. I was wrong.

The land here is beautiful, the culture fascinating, and people very nice, but the government and police corruption is unbelievable. As someone coming from the United States who has never lived in another country the way things work here is just so very different. Getting spare parts or any specialized parts/ materials can prove impossible due to the import regulations in Argentina. I had a very difficult time attempting to execute my planned project (which was to build a hoop house). So just a word of advice to future interns planning a project, don’t assume materials are similar in price or availability, in Argentina to the States.
For me a person, coming from the north-eastern States, many things here were foreign leaving so much to absorb and learn about. The climate is completely different, the language, the culture, the work etc… Just the change from a life surrounded by electronics and my cell phone to being without electricity most of the week is a drastic change but has been a great experience. It has really made me realize how modern technologies have changed the way of life everywhere, over the past century.

One of the things that fascinates me most is the native Americans here. In the United States so much of the native culture has been wiped out but in northern Argentina it is alive and strong. You can recognize natives versus people of foreign heritage. There is a strong cultural link to Pacha Mama (mother earth) and everyone is very respectful, every time you drink a beer with the locals the first sip goes to Pacha Mama and is poured on the ground. Also Condor Valley is just full of Native American artifacts. There are arrow heads to be found, grave sites, pottery, and on one of the farms (under Condor Valley), in Chicoana, there is a sort of buried city!

My overall experience at Condor Valley was ideal. It was the best thing I have ever done and completely changed my life. I am permanently grateful towards Hank, Martin, Bruno, and Dario, along with everyone else that I met in Argentina. Martin really developed into a mentor for me, and his sons my brothers. I learned so much from all of them! This sort of experience might not be for everyone but it couldn’t have been more perfect for me, I plan on and cannot wait to return!

While on Condor Valley:
Buy a Knife
Buy a Belt
Watch a cow slaughter
Go to the waterfall
Climb Mt. Creston (didn’t get to do this, but next time I will!)

We were awakened by thundering hooves as the gauchos headed out to work the cattle. This was a thrilling sound for those of us planning a day on horseback. After breakfast in the Loft with Sylvana we were equipped with mounts and saddles, bug dope and hats, and we headed off on our adventure accompanied by Martin and his sons, Bruno and Dario. The three of them were perfect guides, entertaining, informative and reassuring. I needed the latter since I hadn’t ridden in some time and wasn’t sure I was up for the challenge. They were even chivalrous, assisting us by whacking branches with machetes, throwing rocks in the river for us to step on to insure our arrival at the mysterious destination.

I have to admit that if I’d known it was going to be an 8 hour ride, I probably wouldn’t have signed on, but I’m grateful for that glitch in communication, because it was well worth it. This ride proved to be the highlight of my entire trip to Argentina.

We passed through fields of crops along dusty roads, traversed brambled paths through dense forests, plunged down rocky river banks, cantered over rolling terrain and were rewarded with breathtaking views and a supreme sense of accomplishment. The sheepskin saddle cover saved our butts in ever way! We finally reached Condor Valley which featured a cascading waterfall and colorful canyon walls. Condors were wheeling overhead, teaching their young to fly on the updraft. The small beach was marked with fresh sign of wild boar. Sounds echoed in the eerie, exhilarating, confines of the canyon. We gobbled the delicious ham and cheese tart we’d brought in saddlebags and recharged for the return ride. Only the waning sunlight could convince me to leave this magical place. Thanks for the experience!

- Laurie Buchar

Start to finish, I was overwhelmed by this place and these people. I could not have asked for a more authentic experience, and would unquestionably recommend Condor Valley to anyone. It is truly unforgettable.

- Joanna Wexler

I arrived in Salta with my friend Joanna via a twenty-two hour bus excursion from BA that was supposed to take eighteen- a less than ideal mode of transportation but as broke backpackers, we made do. Despite our tardiness, Martin met us at the bus terminal as promised. Already four hours behind schedule, he insisted on giving us a quick tour of Salta before heading out of town. Aptly recognized as the fifth most beautiful city in South America, Salta is charmed by pristine Colonial architecture, rich history and amiable weather. 80% of the province’s inhabitants are natives resulting in a powerful cultural identity, opposite from the cosmopolitan Buenos Aires where I had just spent nearly two weeks. Don’t misunderstand, I enjoyed the metropolitan capital but am so grateful that my last few days were spent in such an innate habitat. It was here that I began to grasp how diverse Argentina is, abound with native cultures, various dialects and contrasting landscapes. After the brief tour we drove an hour south to Chicoana where we stopped by Martin’s home, a former Inn on the main square where he and his family reside on the weekends. We picked up his wife Silvana and daughter Mora and loaded up the truck with all the necessary goods we needed for the next four days, a weekly routine for the Pekareks.  It wasn’t until then that I began to conceptualize just how remote La Bodega actually is. We took off into the night and continued heading south to Condor Valley.

Despite the pitch black backdrop, Martin described our surroundings in detail and reassured us that we would be able to see everything on our return drive. We turned off the paved road when we reached the Valley entrance and although we couldn’t see much, the night sky provided just enough luminosity for us to make out the enormous Mt. Creston that welcomed us onto the property. Jo and I looked at each other in disbelief as we suddenly recognized the scope of what was in store. We were greeted at the house by Martin’s two sons, Bruno and Dario, and had a glass of wine in our hands within minutes. Silvana prepared a delicious meal of tamales and fresh avocado salad. After two hours of eating, drinking and chatting Jo and I retired to our candle-lit room, opened the big glass windows and fell asleep to the cool mountain breeze.

We woke up when the morning light began to spill into the room, revealing a breathtakingly colorful sunrise and after fading in and out of sleep for a couple hours, finally started the day at 9am. We had a light breakfast of toast and freshly brewed coffee before heading down to the farm. It was round-up season- a two month process whereby the cows are corralled, vaccinated and assessed for sale by traditional gauchos. While two months might seem generous, it is actually a modest time frame considering there are 420 cows that roam freely on the 64,000 acre property. The work of a gaucho is brutal; not only is it time consuming, it can be scary. Finding the cattle is a feat in and of itself but herding the wild livestock for miles at a time is a dangerous undertaking.

Wanting to experience every facet of farm life, Jo and I didn’t think twice about helping the boys with their daily work. We jumped in the fodder-filled trailer and within minutes were pitchforking breakfast into the cow corral. One hour and 100+ happy ruminants later, we headed back up to the house for some Milanese, one of my favorite Argentine dishes, and I picked Martin’s brain on the history of Argentina. We discussed the infiltration of the Incan Empire, the triumph of the Conquistadors and current-day government policies. He explained the cultural evolution noting that there are eight distinct communities in Salta alone, each of which speak a different indigenous language. Having a background in anthropology and tourism, Martin is a wealth of information and has a knack for storytelling.

I could have talked to him for hours but following lunch came the afternoon workload. We headed into the corn fields because even though the harvest was over, the work was not. We scoured the fields for the stalks’ remaining husks and selected the best ears for seed that would be used to plant next year’s crop. Joanna, Dario and I worked for nearly two hours when Bruno rolled up on a chopper and began cutting down the crops that had already been through this selection process. This machine levels the crops for the following harvest and the chopped corn remnants, known as silage, becomes animal feed for cud-chewing livestock. Farming 101: it all comes full circle. We piled our burlap bags of corn onto the tractor and headed back up to the house where we prepared for our evening fishing excursion.

The four of us took off and arrived at the lake at dusk. Joanna and Dario caught bait while Bruno and I made a fire. We paid our respects to Pachamama, the Incan mythology equivalent of Mother Earth, drank cold beer next to the hot fire and got our fish on. Three hours and six liters of beer later we decided to keep the party going. I was on vacation, after all. We made a quick pit stop at the local river rafting company, picked up six more bottles and headed to the creek where we made another fire, played jacks with stones and told stories until wee hours of the morning.

We awoke the next morning and embarked on a seven hour horseback ride. I’m not sure what I was expecting but given the rusticity of La Bodega I should have known we were in for an adventure. Let’s just say it was not a trail for beginners. However, having ridden a horse only a handful of times in my life, I was thrilled by the perilous outing. Martin is a pro when it comes to taking risks but certainly encourages everyone to stick within their comfort zone. Luckily our group was an open-minded and athletic bunch that welcomed such uncertainty. The first hour of the ride was mellow, walking with the occasional trot, and it wasn’t until we reached a thicket of dried brush that complication ensued. Certain parts of the trail were completely overgrown with scrappy bushes, making it difficult to navigate. Bruno’s machete remedied most of these obstacles but at times we dismounted and crawled through the underbrush. This might not appeal to some but I had fun being off the beaten path, even if I did get a little scratched up.

Condor Valley supports one of the most elusive and unique species of wildlife in all of Argentina.  The North Andean deer (Hippocamelus antisensis), better known as the “taruka,” is a rare and little-known deer species that occupies high-elevation mountain grasslands of the Andes in southern Peru, southwestern Bolivia, northeastern Chile, and northwestern Argentina.  The species is known to occupy the high-elevation grasslands of Condor Valley (CV) near Mount Creston, but details about its status remain a mystery, both at CV and throughout its range in Argentina.  Few biologists have seen the species, and only anecdotal information can be offered about population characteristics and habitat needs.  Despite this lack of knowledge, the taruka is considered vulnerable to extirpation, given its small numbers, isolated populations, and restricted distribution.  Populations are believed to be declining in response to habitat loss, competition with non-native ungulates, predation by feral dogs, and illegal hunting.  Only a few hundred individuals are thought to remain in Argentina.

The species’ rare status and vulnerable status led to its designation as a “national natural monument species” by Argentina in 1996, one of just four such species assigned this status (http://www.welcomeargentina.com/parques/taruca.html); (http://turismo.idoneos.com/index.php/Turismo_Argentina/Parques_Nacionales_Arg/Especies_monumento).  Designation as a natural monument is intended to draw national attention to species that are charismatic, unique, and vulnerable to extinction, and thus of keen conservation interest.  The status of taruka in Argentina certainly fits these criteria.  The prospect of the species’ potential disappearance from Argentina points to the urgent need for research on existing populations to document their status and trends, habitat requirements, and effects of human activities on population persistence.

In response to this need, two biologists, Gustavo Marás and Euell Macke, conducted preliminary field work at Condor Valley in October 2011 to evaluate the feasibility of studying tarukas in the area.  Marás recently finished his biology degree at the University of Salta, and will be applying in June 2012 for a scholarship from the government of Argentina to study tarukas as part of a doctoral program that would begin in 2013.  Macke is biologist from the United States who traveled to Condor Valley to work with Marás.  The two biologists were supported in their field work by Martin Pekarek, manager of Condor Valley, his son Bruno, and gaucho Jose Ontiveros.  Martin, Bruno, and Jose accompanied Marás and Macke to start the field work, providing a thorough orientation to the high-elevation grasslands, and helping haul needed supplies by horseback.

Gustavo Marás (right) and Euell Macke (left) discuss tarukas with gaucho Jose Ontiveros (center)

After a few days of orientation, Marás and Macke continued the field work on their own, with weekly reunions with the Condor Valley staff at base camps to obtain food supplies and to ensure that the logistics of the activities were safe and proceeding as planned.  For nearly a month, Marás and Macke mostly camped at the highest-elevation grasslands near Mount Creston at an elevation of approximately 3,000 meters.  They often lived in a cave just below Creston, from which views of a large area of taruka habitats were possible.  Their daily routines typically consisted of long hikes through areas of steep, rugged terrain composed of grasslands and adjacent rocky outcrops.  Grasslands are thought to be important feeding areas for tarukas, whereas the rocky outcrops are believed to be used as quick escape areas from predators.  The combination of grasslands and adjacent predator escape areas is considered ideal habitat for tarukas.  Preference by tarukas for grasslands in steep, boulder-strewn terrain has prompted biologists to characterize the species as the “wild sheep” member of the deer family, owing to the species’ strong affinity for the rugged, mountainous habitats that many species of wild sheep predictably use in other areas of the world.

Although Marás and Macke spent many days on foot in their search for tarukas, other days were spent on horseback, returning to lower-elevation base camps to obtain food supplies.  Whether on foot or on horseback, the work was difficult and strenuous, owing to the remote, rugged landscapes.  Travel on foot or horseback was necessarily slow, owing to the dangers of injury while traversing the steep, boulder-strewn terrain, which presented real hazards with every step by humans or horses.

Despite the challenges, Marás and Macke found ample evidence of tarukas in the form of tracks and feces.  Samples of feces and reference plants were collected for later analysis of taruka diets.  While signs of tarukas were present, Marás and Macke were not able to observe any individuals directly.  This has been the main challenge for conducting taruka research: the species is extremely wary of humans, presumably because of a long history of illegal hunting.  In the past, illegal hunting of tarukas at CV and surrounding ranches was probably common.  Current landowners, however, are making strong efforts to remove trespassers, many of whom are suspected of illegal hunting in the past.

Marás and Macke were further supported in their search for tarukas by biologists of Argentina’s National Park Service and Salta Provincial Ministry of Environment and Sustainable Development, who conducted an aerial survey in an attempt to efficiently locate tarukas within CV and surrounding land ownerships.  This aerial survey was funded by the owners of Condor Valley in partnership with the Park Service and Ministry.  Although three tarukas were located on an adjacent ownership during the aerial survey, the extremely steep, dissected terrain makes aerial surveys inefficient and inaccurate for locating tarukas, who can easily hide from view in such terrain.  Effective surveys are thus limited to flatter ridgetops, which compose only a portion of taruka habitat, and which could be avoided by tarukas in response to the disturbance posed by aerial flights.  Guidance and advice from the Park Service and Ministry biologists, as well as biologists from Argentina’s National Wildlife Service, will continue to be an important part of the support for Marás’ Ph.D. program of study.

Although Marás and Macke were not able to observe tarukas directly during the initial month of study, they set up five trail cameras in areas where fresh tracks and feces were found, or in other areas where habitat conditions appeared most suitable.  The trail cameras were loaned to the project from the University of Salta.  The cameras recorded photos of all animals in the field of view on a systematic basis, operating for over a month before batteries had to be recharged.  The use of trail cameras is a relatively new method in wildlife research.  The method has proven especially effective for the study of rare and elusive wildlife that typically cannot be observed directly.  Trail cameras are especially effective for studies of such elusive species in remote, rugged terrain where human travel is difficult and inefficient.  All of the above characteristics aptly describe the situation for tarukas and their habitats at Condor Valley.

After leaving the trail cameras to operate for over a month in the field, Marás returned in mid-December of 2011 with the staff of CV to retrieve the cameras and examine the photos.  Just four days after the cameras had been set up, one of the cameras captured photos of a group of at least 5 tarukas, 3 females and 2 males.  The camera had been located in the same area in which Marás and Macke had spent much of their time, verifying that use of trail cameras can provide an accurate means of research on animals that are difficult to observe directly.

Marás is now developing a formal proposal to study tarukas as part of his doctoral program.  The proposal will partially rely on new methods of using trail cameras to evaluate population characteristics of tarukas and to evaluate habitat use by the species at Condor Valley.  Up to 100 trail cameras may be needed to saturate study areas with cameras.  The high number of cameras is needed to obtain sufficient spatial coverage to accurately estimate population characteristics such as population size, sex and age ratios, and productivity.  Such sampling with the trail cameras would occur at CV and possibly one additional study area.

Systematic use of the trail cameras also is essential for characterizing areas of habitat use versus areas available to tarukas but not documented as used.  This type of habitat characterization can be accomplished by measuring a wide variety of habitat conditions across camera sites, and analyzing differences in conditions at the camera sites where tarukas are recorded, versus habitat conditions at camera sites were no taruka use is documented, as estimated for each season of year.  This type of habitat analysis with trail cameras is novel but evolving rapidly as a powerful tool for understanding habitat use and habitat needs of rare and elusive wildlife such as the taruka.

Other potential threats to taruka persistence, such as the presence of European boars (Sus scrofa) and pumas (Puma concolor), can also be evaluated with use of the trail cameras.  In particular, the combination of European boars, overhunting by humans, and predation may pose a synergistic challenge to persistence of tarukas.  European boars, native to Europe and introduced to Argentina for hunting, are now established and common across most taruka range.  Boars aggressively defend water sites from use by other wildlife, and have been known to displace native mammals from their habitats, even sometimes killing native mammals outright with their aggressive, pack-based behavior.  In addition, boars often compete directly with native ungulates for food, or indirectly change the availability of food through uprooting and removal of vegetation, an activity that typifies the species’ foraging behavior. These deleterious effects can reduce population numbers of native ungulates and substantially reduce the areas that otherwise would be used as habitat by other ungulates.

When such potential effects from boars are combined with overhunting, native ungulates can be reduced in number to a level where a population is vulnerable to extirpation by predators.  Although feral dogs have not been documented within taruka range at Condor Valley, the native population of pumas appears healthy and is thought to be increasing. Under these conditions, predation by a native predator such as puma may pose major problems for a small population of taruka such as what is believed to exist at Condor Valley and adjacent land ownerships.  Trail cameras could be used effectively to document the distribution, population characteristics, and habitat use by European boars and pumas in relation to these same types of estimates derived for tarukas to understand the potential inter-specific relations among the three species.

In addition to the use of trail cameras, the proposed research by Marás would focus on collection of samples of feces at the used camera sties to estimate the food habitats of tarukas by season of year.  Samples of hair from the tarukas, which also can be obtained at the camera sites used the by the species, would be analyzed to evaluate genetic diversity of the population.  Small, isolated populations of an animal species often have low genetic diversity, in contrast to the higher diversity typical of larger, well-connected populations.  This type of genetic analysis provides insights about the degree to which a smaller, isolated population may be vulnerable to extirpation from inbreeding and other negative effects of low genetic diversity.

Preliminary field work will continue in 2012, assuming that additional trail cameras can be obtained and placed in areas of potential taruka use.  A number of grant proposals will be submitted to international conservation organizations to support the work.  Success at obtaining these grants, in combination with Marás being awarded a research scholarship, will determine the pace at which future research occurs.

Effective collaboration with the Condor Valley staff also is essential to the future success of taruka research at CV.  Without the support from the Condor Valley staff and ownership, taruka research in the area would not be possible.  Another key to continued success is securing continued help from skilled field biologists such as Macke, who wants to return to Condor Valley to help with future work and to possibly pursue a graduate study for himself on the taruka.  Updates about research progress on the taruka project will be provided on the Condor Valley website as work continues on this exciting and novel research.

Michael Wisdom and Ricardo Ojeda are coordinating the development of taruka research at Condor Valley. The two scientists each have over 30 years of research experience in the study of mammals and other wildlife.  Wisdom can be contacted at mwisdom@fs.fed.us, and Ojeda at rojeda@mendoza-conicet.gov.ar.

The word traicionero translates to English as treacherous, which is an appropriate enough adjective for Creston; but when it is quietly intoned by a gaucho “traicionero, el Creston,” there rings something more profound in the term. Traicionero describes the animistic caprice of the mountain; the mystical power a dramatic landscape possesses. The features of Creston seem to be mutable, and when the mountain is wreathed in shifting mists, familiar landmarks become unrecognizable. Knowing full well where we were, we often found ourselves lost on Creston.

The south side of the peak is massive gendarme that stands entirely separate from the rest of the ridge and makes any approach from the south or east extremely difficult. So the best route from our cave on the north side of Creston to the south ridge is across the highly dissected west face. This route was peculiarly challenging and was never the same twice. We would descend into one of the many deep and nearly identical canyons and inevitably become disoriented. Upon climbing out of the canyon—which often required actual rock climbing, or at best vertical bunch-grass climbing—we would find ourselves on a different path. Unable or unwilling to back track, we would be once again be in the hands of Creston. Now the path gets more difficult; requires more risks; tempts us to try a dangerous leap; leads us up a cliff only to strand us on a ledge; at times we wondered with condors circling if Creston was trying to kill us. Creston, however, could just as well surprise us with beauty and generosity. Out of water, parched, hot, and tired we stopped to rest in the shade of a canyon. In the solemn silence we heard a faint trickle of water, and by following it we discovered a tranquil cool spring in the hollow under large boulders. Near the end of another day we were moving fast to get back to the cave before dark but we had lost the route we were on. Exhausted and frustrated we had reached a slot canyon that seemed impassable. Just when we thought we would have to back track a long steep route, we noticed a queñoa tree growing out of the vertical side of the canyon with its limbs spread in a bridge across the ravine.

We spent our days on Creston watching hummingbirds visit flowering agave; falcons mate by tumbling in free fall; green parrots chase the alpine-glow down to the darkening valley; and always the condors of Creston were watching us. At times Creston was all there was; the rest of the world below a sea of clouds. Some afternoons the mountain would be veiled in thick fog and we would spend hours in the cave waiting for the visibility to improve. During our weeks on Creston we not so much explored the mountain, as carefully observed while the mountain revealed itself to us.

Condors have incredible site and smell; they can detect carrion from miles away, and will fly hundreds of kilometers a day to find food. If a condor finds large carrion it will eat the stomach contents first to help it digest the meat it is about to gorge on. They can be up to 10ft in wingspan and live to 100 years old. Condors are typically monogamous for life.

With its multiplicity of cliffs and crevasses, Mt Creston provides the perfect aviary for condors. On Creston we would see many condors every day. They were so ubiquitous that something seemed missing when they weren’t around. We saw ragged old condors, uninterested and solitary; eager young juveniles banded together; swarms of condors near the summit at dusk.  Through our binoculars from less than 200 meters we watched a pair of condors perform courtship dances and mate on a high ledge. On warm clear days the condors would ride high on the thermals until they were tiny specks disappearing into the blue.

After getting back to town I spent the weekend in Chicoana arranging my travel plans for the next two weeks. I went to Salta city Friday night and did a little dancing at a club there. It’s a little shocking going from no electricity at all to loud music and lights galore. Saturday we had a big asado BBQ at the hosteria and I got to hang out with my friends there one last time. Monday morning I took a bus about three and a half hours west to Cafayate. It is a town of a few thousand and is known for it’s wine production. There are a dozen or so wineries around town and I toured one of them with a couple I met at the hostel. The Nanni is the only organic winery in Cafayate and they have some amazing wines. The best part of it is that because we were at the source, I was able to buy a bottle of delicious, handcrafted, organic Malbec for 32 pesos- about $7.25! I googled it and the same bottle sells for $47.00 in the US! I instantly realized that backpacking around for two more weeks has one serious downfall- I can’t haul around a whole case of wine! Dang, well I guess the one bottle will have to do for now.

I had a great but WAY too short stay in Cafayate but had to leave this morning. In Argentina they have a sort of Taxi service that specializes in long trips- you simply wait around the main plaza of town and find a car going to a city of your liking. When you gather enough people to fill the car, you leave. I was lucky in that I only had to wait for about ten minutes to gather enough people to fill the car. I was unlucky in that one of the 4 other passengers was a little girl who apparently has a little problem with getting car sick. Yep, this little screaming vomit rocket miraculously produced a near constant flow of projectile at Exorcist level mass and velocity for two solid hours. At one point I looked for the tube that would prove my suspicion that she was actually connected to an auxiliary barf reservoir.

Once in Salta I jumped directly on the bus for my 18 hour ride south to Mendoza. I know it sounds awful, and I’d love to be able to tell a rugged travel story about how I rode sitting on a wooden crate in a rickety steel boxcar while murderous, tattoo covered gypsies held cock fights for hand rolled cigarettes and daggers, but unfortunately it was much less adventuresome. The charter busses here are luxurious. The recliners look like something you’d sit in to watch the superbowl, not travel cross country. I am almost to Mendoza but have been served three meals, half a bottle of good wine, watched a couple movies in English and I am currently blogging via the on board Wi-Fi connection. Like I said, not very adventurous but then again the girl across the isle from me has a dolphin tat on her ankle so it’s pretty much the same I guess.

Sorry but no photos this post- I will have to interject them later once I find an Internet cafe to download pics from my camera. Also, just so you know, finding Internet connections here is actually fairly difficult, as is typing 1000 word posts on my iPhone (talk about thumb cramps), and waiting literally hours while my pics upload to the Internet. It’s completely worth it though knowing that people back home are reading the blog, so thanks for reading! And please write a comment back- I love hearing them and I guarantee it won’t take nearly as much effort as it did for me to bring you the post 

Monday:

Today I stuck around in Chicoana while most of the others went out to work.  I had to stay behind and retrieve my ATM card that the cash machine took from me while I was making a withdraw.  Getting to the bank at the next town was easy because there is a bus that goes straight there, however, once at the bank, things ceased to run smoothly.  When I showed up I thought I had mistakenly arrived at a ticket office that was giving out free Metallica tickets; there was literally a line out the door.  I took a number from the dispenser and it was over 40 numbers away!  I don’t know if it is standard to have only three people working at a bank which has 10 work stations, or if the typical Monday at the bank resembles free pinball night at Chuck-e-Cheese, but regardless, the place was seriously understaffed.  After a half an hour, a whopping 4 numbers had ticked by.  Thankfully a Saint disguised as a chicken farmer had waited long enough and walked out but gave me his number while doing so.  Eureka!  I just jumped up twenty numbers!  In the end I ended up waiting just shy of two hours- thank goodness for Saint Chicken Farmer and the number trade or I probably wouldn’t have gotten helped before they closed that day.  Luckily for me, they did in fact have my card, gave it back to me, and I was on my way.  That evening Tati, who had come back to town for some reason, picked me up and we headed out to the ranch.  We got in late and went straight to bed.

Tuesday:

We gathered up most of the cows that we had collected over the last several weeks and ran them through the only chute on the ranch to administer vaccinations.  My job was to prod the stubborn cows down the chute, which I can attest, works much more effectively back home with an electric cattle prod, rather than the dull stick here in which I was issued.  My detail also included cutting the hair off the end of each cow’s tail to signify that they had indeed received the vaccine.  Luckily for me cows don’t constantly crap down their own tail’s all day long.  Yeah.  My favorite was when they would feel me grabbing for their rear and then whip a freshly shat upon tail across my (usually open mouthed) face.  By mid afternoon we ran out of medicine so Tati and I had to run the 50 minutes into town to get more vaccines.  Oh darn.

It looks as easy as walking a dog but they just have to fight every single step of the way, which is sometimes miles

Wednesday:

While out riding today we ran across some of the many escaped ranch horses that we see nearly every day.  I swear, they can’t even know how many horses they even actually have with so many free ranging out there in the mountains.  Anyway, with this band there was a few week old colt that was down with a bad infection.  It couldn’t stand so we decided to go back for the tractor and trailer to get him and mama home.  Two hours later we got back with the tractor.  We managed to get the mare trailered up after 20 minutes of cursing and dodging flying hooves.  You could tell that she had never seen, let alone been in a trailer in her life.  We thought we were doing great getting the horse ambulance out to them but alas, our efforts were in vain- the colt was just too sick and died about half way back.  Poor little feller.  That evening I watched Tati and Luiz train a few older colts… Man, those guys sure have a way with horses.

Going out on an afternoon search

Thursday:

There were seven of us riding this morning and everything started out normal.  On the way out to the mountains a motorcycle passed us and everyone’s horse but mine stood completely still and contently watched as it went by.  My horse on the other hand blew up and plowed headlong into the thorniest bush in the valley.  Once I calmed the horse down and made sure I still had two non-punctured eyeballs, I noticed everyone was laughing at me.  One of the chuckling gauchos jutted his chin at my ride and said “nuevo!” (new horse).  I’m glad that they are still testing the gringo daily…

I guess there was one other green horse on the ride.  Tati, the most savvy of all gauchos, was on a three year old whom was on its first ride out of the pen as far as I could tell.  We weren’t ten minutes from the ranch house when it blew up and managed to kick Luiz directly in the knee.  Before long his knee was bigger around than the upper part of his thigh and was unable to bear any weight.  That didn’t stop him from riding all day on it though- he didn’t think it was necessary to go to the hospital until the next day.  Tough bastard.

Friday:

This morning I branched off on my own and took a six hour solo ride searching for overlooked cattle on the far reach of one side of the ranch.  I found a group of eight around mid-morning and then a lone bull about two hours later.  I also found a couple bands of aforementioned rogue horses.  It was great getting out alone in order to have some time with my thoughts, the mountains, and the blazing heat.  It’s spring going on summer here and temps have been pushing a hundred the last few days.  Not only is the temperature high, but there must be something about the southern hemisphere that makes the sun’s rays more intense.  Even with somewhat of a base tan, if any of my skin is exposed for even fifteen minutes I start looking like I tried to toast marshmallows over a plutonium rod in the core of a nuclear plant.  Bust out the SPF 5000 please!

Taking a little break at an oasis during a long ride

Since I don’t have access to a computer during the week I have started hand writing my posts on paper at night in my room in the light of a candle (which in addition to being the only form of light available, I think helps get the creative writing to flow).  Here is what I had written.

Wednesday:

I feel like I’ve had a fight with a weed eater.  I’ve got scratches on my face, back, neck, arms, my knuckles are all skinned and there are thorns embedded all over my body.  Spending a good portion of time digging thorns out with my knife has become part of my evening routine.

Yesterday was a long day of riding.  Unlike back home where gathering cows means driving tens if not hundreds of bovine at a time through the sage hills, here the cows are scattered so thin, over so much inhospitable land, that in a day of gathering we are lucky if each rider finds even one cow- and getting it back to the pastures is a whole other challenge.  The brush is so thick and nasty that cows usually can’t be driven through it.  Moving cattle through the bush often requires two gauchos (or in my case, one gaucho and a gringo) just to get it out.  One leads it with a lasso around its neck and the other harasses it with whistles, yells, and a whip if needed, to keep it moving through the brush.  It’s a long arduous process.  Yesterday we rode from 8 to 5 and the day was a success by bringing in 3 cows.  When they told me that roundup usually takes a month I wondered how the heck it could possibly take so long- now I know.

The day offered more excitement than simply bringing in cows though.  Out in the bush, whenever a wild boar is spotted, all but the most important tasks are put on hold for a hunt!  We managed to take two pigs yesterday.  One was nearly killed by the dogs anyway so we finished it off, and Louis lassoed the other one and “hog tied” him for the ride home to keep him alive and fresh for another day.  Two hogs and three cows- not bad for a days work I suppose.  Last night we had a feast of wild pig and beef meatballs- as much of a  vegetaran’s nightmare as most of the meals we have.  One big meal and a few glasses of red wine (a favorite of the gauchos) and I slept like a baby.

Saddling up for the day

Scouting for cattle

Louis and the pig he roped

Coming home with the catch of the day

Thursday:

This morning we had a special task: butcher a bitch of a cow that Tati had tied to a tree in the yard the night before.  That’s what you get for being too difficult around here I guess…  To keep the herd somewhat tame they take the really wild ones out of the genetic pool.  Anyway, it was a fine way to start the day.  I’ve never seen a full grown steer get dispatched with just a knife but it was surprisingly quicker than I was expecting.  When David (pronounced Daa-Veed) approached the animal with nothing but a large knife, I was expecting a horror show complete with bellowing, bucking, and showers of blood.  To my surprise, it took only one quick well placed stab to the back of the head and the thing hit the ground like a ton of bricks.  A rifle shot to the head wouldn’t have been any more effective or humane.  And man, these gauchos can butcher!  I’ve never seen an animal come apart so quickly.  From the time it hit the ground less than 45 minutes passed before it was skinned, gutted, and hanging in half a dozen pieces.  Tati, Euell, and I took the tractor and a large wagon trailer to gather firewood for another giant feast.

Now to say that the gauchos use or eat every part of the cow is an understatement.  We ate things that I didn’t even know existed in the anatomy of a cow.  Lunch was a meat supreme spread of more wild boar, and cow brisket, heart, liver, and kidneys.  I found all of it to be delicious, except the kidneys… I’m not a big fan of the urine filters.

After we were all stuffed we suited up for a long afternoon in the saddle, gathering more cows.  It was a great day in the bush that included riding in some true mountain goat country.  There were times that I was literally trusting the horse’s footing with my life.  When we did find some cows it was a jackpot- more than ten cows all together!  So far it was the most I’ve seen banded up.  It turned out to be more of a cattle drive like I’m used to except it was very brushy and at extreme speed.  These rangy cows know what we are there to do and they do NOT want to go down from the hills.  It’s more like trying to drive a group of wild deer than tranquil cows- they take off hauling ass as soon as we get close.  The feeling of blowing through the brush, galloping down reviens and through washes at near running speed is extremely exciting to say the least.  I felt like Buch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid running from a posse.  At the end of the day we had a dozen cattle, lots of scratches, and one horse with a gaping wound to it’s front shoulder.  Never fear though- Louis just grabbed an old hypodermic needle previously used to administer medicine or something and some fishing line and sewed it up like he was repairing a ripped pair of jeans.  No biggie, these things happen all the time.

Fresh as it gets

Tati cooking up some animal parts

Baking up some bread for supper

just gonna sew her on up real quick…

Friday:

Rode all day and in the most extreme country yet.  I’ve ridden horses in the mountains my whole life and I’ve never ridden anywhere this nasty before.  Following the gauchos, I went places that I honestly didn’t think a horse could even go, let alone with a rider.  We went up slopes so steep, had I been on foot, I would have had to use my hands to aid in climbing, and we went down chutes so steep that the horse would just squat its rear end and we’d slide down the whole hillside.  And the brush- I can’t get over the brush!  I didn’t mention but we have to wear what is basically a rawhide suit of armor that keeps our clothes and skin from being shredded off.  Also, at first I wondered why the gauchos wore such stiff, hard leather hats- well now I know- they are literally helmets.  I was glad I was wearing one yesterday… while doing the standard laying on the horse’s neck, holding on for dear life, blindly ripping through brush so thick and spiny that to even open an eye would be nearly a guarantee to loose it, all of a sudden I hit a larger than normal branch- one that didn’t budge.  It smashed me in the top of the head and in an instant I was on the ground.  Luckily the horse stopped- I think I would have perished in there without her.

We had baked cow head for lunch.  They skinned the head of the cow we butchered, wrapped it up in wet paper, covered it in mud, and baked it in a large wood fired oven for 24 hours.  I was surprised at how tender and delicious cow face can be.

Pachi

It’s springtime here in November, stuff is starting to bloom

Well that was my week for the most part.  Saturday Euell and I took a bus about 50 km to the city of Salta for some good times.  We went out and experienced some good nightlife, which in Argentine terms means dancing until the bars close at 6am.  Euell got on a flight from Salta to Buenos Aires, from which he will fly home to Oregon tomorrow.  ”Suerte” Euell, it was great seeing you!

Euell

This is where the cook, the gauchos, and I stay

The cook Daniella’s little boy

The edge of the Andes