‘Bows & Browns
(with a special guest appearance by a couple of Salmon)
What Goes Up – Must Indeed Come Down
I’m going to turn things upside down with this journal entry, because instead of taking you North, which is usually the case, this time around I’ll be taking you down South – to the Patagonia.
So what does the Patagonia have in common with Great Bear Lake?
At first glance not much at all, but there actually is a solid connection between me, Great Bear Lake and the Patagonia – and that connection is Dave Jackson.
Dave, who as some of you may know, has spent many years guiding on the big lake, and now manages Plummer’s Tree River Camp in Nunavut, and in addition, has guided me numerous times on both the Bear, Tree River, and on 2 occasions, the Patagonia.
And because we are clearly connected by our time fishing together in both places, I really didn’t think it would be much a stretch to include the story about this particular fishing trip within the pages of GBLO.
And speaking of connections, I would be remiss if I didn’t mention that Billy – my fishing partner – spotted someone on our flight to Balmaceda who’s carry-on bag was sporting a Plummer’s Lodge tag.
Of course I couldn’t resist asking him about it, whereupon he told me that he had been at Plummer’s last summer, and mentioned that while he and his wife were now going to a lodge, they had tentatively arranged to have some dude by the name of Dave Jackson guide them if his guests – meaning Billy and I – didn’t turn up.
Now how about that!
January 27
Hello Murphy My Old Friend – You’ve Come to Screw With Us Again
We started planning , and in fact booked much of this trip in late 2025, the “we” being myself and long-time friend and fishing buddy Billy Stein, who is without a doubt the most intense and enthusiastic angler that I have ever met.
To put it another way, if Billy collected air miles for every cast he made during any particular outing, he would never have to purchase an airline ticket again.
Murphy, with an assist from Air Canada decided to weave his/their magic on the 25th, which was two days prior to our scheduled departure, by sending the following notice at 6:44 pm:
“Harold, we’re very sorry, your booking was cancelled on AC92 to Santiago, and we’re now working to rebook you.
Our rebooking system looks for flight options for up to three days after your cancelled flight, including flights operated by other airlines. Unfortunately, we have not found any available options suitable for your itinerary.”
Now wasn’t that a kick in the cajónes…
Not only did we now face the prospect of blowing up the entire trip – Billy had no option but to be back to work by a certain day – we had hotel reservations in Santiago, and had booked a flight on Latam Airlines to Balmaceda, where our guide Dave Jackson would be waiting to pick us up.
And speaking of Dave, who when not doing his guiding thing in Chile operates Plummer’s Arctic Lodges Tree River Camp in Nunavut during July and August, was not only our fishing/tour guide, he also served as our barista, sommelier, historian, ornithologist, driver, interpreter, chef and concierge.
In other words, Dave is the embodiment of the Swiss Army Knife metaphor, being someone who is helpful, versatile, reliable, and adaptable.
I don’t believe that AC spent much, if any time searching for: “any available options suitable for your itinerary,” because when I got on the AC website within minutes after receiving the cancellation notice, and although they were not direct flights, I found 2 leaving around the same time as the original, both of which had a stopover in Lima Peru, one of which I immediately booked.
And because our connecting flight in Lima was on Latam, I managed to connect with one of their customer service rep’s, and confirmed that we had assigned seats on the connection.
Not being content with screwing with us just the one time, we then received an email from AC the next day informing us that they were just kidding, and the original flight was in fact going to leave on the 27th as scheduled.
Increíble.
Because it enhances the prospect that your luggage will actually arrive when you do, a direct flight is much preferrable, so after waiting 3 hours for a call back from AC on the 26th, I managed to get us back onto our original flight.
Truth be told, and upon further investigation, it did not appear as though the original flight was actually cancelled – just OUR bookings. This was further supported by the fact that when I did rebook, our original seats had already been reassigned.
Increíble indeed.
But wait! Murphy was not quite finished with us just yet!
Upon arriving at the airport I gave Billy a call to let him know where I was sitting so he could find me once he got there, only to be told that while on his way over, he hit a pothole on the highway, and as a result blew out a tire on his girlfriend’s car.
So without going into any more detail in regards to what could have been a complete shit show, at the end of the day Billy made it to the airport with time to spare, our flight was very enjoyable, and we arrived in Santiago as planned.
January 28
Bigger and/or Newer is DEFINITELY NOT Better
Fredrick Douglas, a 19th-century American abolitionist, orator, writer, and social reformer has been credited with saying:
“That if there is no struggle, there is no progress.”
Well, the folks who designed the new international terminal at the Arturo Merino Benítez International Airport in Santiago, decidedly took this to heart, because it was one hell of a struggle to get from our arrival gate to the baggage claim area, and ultimately our hotel.
Once we had located and scanned the QR code pasted on the wall of the terminal into our phones, and completed the online customs declaration, we then lined up to clear customs, had our carry-on baggage scanned yet again, and finally made it to the baggage claim area, well after our bags had arrived.
In order to finally break out into the daylight, we had to walk at least a kilometer or 2 in an unairconditioned terminal while still sporting our winterwear, and then had to cover an additional ¼ of a km in 28 degree heat to get to our hotel.
That terminal had something of a Hotel California like vibe, in the sense that while you could check yourself through – you could never really leave.
Check in at the Holiday Inn Santiago – Airport Terminal was a breeze, but Murphy gave us one more little nudge. Not surprisingly by this time we were most definitely ready for a drink, only to be told that the ice machine on our floor was on the blink.
No worries though, because with ice bucket in hand we made our way down to the bar area, and enjoyed a couple of cocktails out on the patio, while waiting for the bartender to fill our bucket with ice. As was my experience the last time I stayed at this hotel, they had not forgotten how to make a very good, and rather sizeable Manhattan.
Trip Note/Vignette
If you have a connecting flight from Santiago and have to overnight before catching it, the Holiday Inn Santiago – Airport Terminal is an excellent choice, as it is located within easy walking distance of both the International and Domestic Terminals.
Following a refreshing dip in the hotel pool, we had a somewhat early dinner – the hotel food is good – and then essentially passed out around 9 pm.
Needless to say, it had been a rather long couple of days.
While we had faced numerous challenges along the way, we overcame them, went toe to toe with Murphy and came out on top, but most importantly, made it, and were now ready to get this fishing trip started!
Trip Note/ Vignette
Regarding the time of day, Chile is 2 hours ahead of us, meaning that your internal clock should not need much of an adjustment.
January 30
We’re Really Hoping That You Gringos Can Read
Fortunately our flight on Latam – who are the “Flag Carrier” and largest airline in Chile – from Santiago to Balmaceda did not leave until mid-afternoon, thereby giving us plenty of time to enjoy a leisurely buffet breakfast, pack up, procure a luggage cart, and make the short walk over to the new domestic terminal without having to engage in a mad scramble to make our connection.
When last in Chile, I discovered that Latam liked to confound their guests by playing a game I then described as “Departure Gate Roulette.” What this game consisted of was posting your departure gate on the information screen, and then immediately removing any reference to it whatsoever when you weren’t looking, thereby leaving you to fend for yourself.
I had hoped they finally consigned this game to the scrap heap, and while in some respects they did, it was regrettably replaced with a modified version.
We received an email advising us that our flight would be leaving from gate X, which was subsequently confirmed on the boarding passes we printed at the airport.
This gate was inconveniently located several levels below sea level, and at the farthest end of the terminal – see above Fredrick Douglas quote – and once we finally got to where we had been directed, something just didn’t feel right, because it would appear that once boarding commenced, we would have to then take a shuttle bus to wherever they had stashed our aircraft. Hmmmm…
So Billy and I dutifully sat there for well over an hour, while listening to the door alarm screech away every time a staff member opened it – which happened with annoying frequency – but something still seemed off. While it was getting rather close to the time when we were scheduled to board, there was only us, and a young lady who was spread across several seats fast asleep waiting by the gate.
Smelling a rata, I asked Billy to check the information board, following which he announced that we were apparently leaving from another gate, which as it turned out, was one or two levels up in a different part of the terminal. And while Latam had, until now anyway, been rather diligent in keeping us correctly informed regarding our flight information, I guess they must have decided to have a bit of a yuk with us gringo’s.
Anyway, despite their best efforts, we did make it to the right gate on time.
One incident on the flight did really crack me up though.
As we were taxiing prior to take off, we received the usual safety briefing from the crew, although mind you, it was all in Spanish. But when they finished the Spanish portion of the briefing, our flight attendant held up the safety card, and in English said something along the lines of: “I hope that you Gringo’s can read, because we ain’t going to repeat it all again in English!”
Too funny.
Trip Note/ Vignette
A couple of things we discovered that they do very well in Chile are pillows and crunchy snacks- particularly chips. The pillows in all of the places we stayed were, somewhat surprisingly, all to our liking, and we were served a type of kettle chip, both during our flight and by Dave throughout the trip called: Buka – Papas Fritas Artesanales, that were really quite good.
Dave was waiting for us at the airport, whereupon we embarked on the approximate one hour drive to Coyhaique, where we checked into the Hotel el Reloj, which was a small, stylish boutique hotel.
Unfortunately it was unseasonably hot, and while our room did not have air conditioning, we made do by leaving the unscreened window wide open at night, which did cool it down somewhat after the sun had set.
Once we unpacked and settled in, Dave came back to pick us up – he in fact lives in Coyhaique with his family – and gave us a tour of the town, and then took us to dinner at a very nice restaurant just outside of town called Borek – https://borek19.com
The food was excellent, and in keeping with a menu that showcased both seasonal and local cuisine, Llama Medallions were on offer. The only downside was that the live entertainment they provided was, at least in our view, a bit loud given the size of the dining room.
One final thing that I believe is worth mentioning before closing off for today, is that wherever we went, there were always dogs, or perro’s to be seen, with this restaurant being no exception. There was one hanging around who may have been the “house” perro who, if the door was left open a crack, would sneak in and make itself right at home, usually curling up right under someone’s table.
January 30
Un Día de Primicias
There were a number of firsts today for both of us, but especially for Billy, including:
• His first time actually fishing in Chile.
• Catching his first Rainbow Trout, and
• Catching his first fish on a fly.
And one of the “firsts” we both shared was a double header (we would have several more throughout the trip) while trolling flies, with the cherry on the double header sundae being that Dave netted my Brown and Billy’s Rainbow at the same time!
Today we would be fishing Lago Monreal.
Because the water levels were very low on virtually all of the rivers, thereby making it impossible to float them, the fishing throughout our stay was restricted to lakes.
Trip Note/ Vignette
Rainbow and Brown Trout are ubiquitous throughout the country, but in my experience it is somewhat unusual to find both species in the same body of water, particularly in lakes.
While speeding along on what were for the most part rather bumpy, gravel roads on our way to the Lago the scenery was spectacular, so much so that we really didn’t even notice the bumps and dust.
Snow-capped mountains, waterfalls, meandering rivers, and lush green valleys greeted us on every twist and turn of the road.
Bumps? What bumps…
In order to get to our put-in spot, after opening a wooden gate we bumped and jostled our way through a farmers field, while dodging a number of sheep, horses and cattle, who I have to admit didn’t really seem to mind us being there.
It seemed as though our good old companion Murphy decided to join us for at least the first part of the day, because our fishing trip was damn near over before it began.
Prior to actually launching, Dave backed our raft down a slight incline to the water’s edge, and while in the process of removing the various tie downs, his truck suddenly began rolling backwards, and but for the fact that the trailer jack knifed when it entered the water, would have likely kept on going right into the lake, possibly becoming completely submerged in the process.
Fortunately he managed to jump clear, as did I, because at the time I was getting something out of the back seat when the truck decided for reasons of its own to enter self-driving mode. The torque on the trailer tongue when it jack knifed was so powerful, it actually bent the tongue slightly sideways.
Once we finally got out on the water, Dave tied on a Goddard Caddis for me, while Billy decided to warm up by using his spinning rod.
I missed a take by a very nice Rainbow on about my third cast, but caught a decent sized Brown on the same fly shortly thereafter. Billy caught his first fish, which I believe was a ‘Bow on a spinner.
The dry fly action was none too hot, so we switched over to sinking lines, and started trolling both a black Wooly Bugger, and a black and orange Cone Head Bugger with rubber legs.
Both worked very well, and while we didn’t set any records in terms of numbers, by the end of the day we had caught and released 14 fish, with Billy boating 6 Browns and 2 ‘Bows, while I tallied 1 ‘Bow and 5 Browns.
Overall, and despite our earlier attempt to reenact a scene from the Hunt for Red October, it was an especially nice first day, and while it was very hot and sunny throughout our time on the water, there was a constant breeze that helped to cool things down a bit.
This evening, and in keeping with our angling theme, we dined at a restaurant called Fario, which in Spanish is the word for Brown Trout. This was in a sense apropos, in that the owners brother, who is a fishing guide, happened to be fishing the same lake as us today.
We enjoyed some very tasty beer that was brewed in-house, together with what were very good burgers, fries and onion rings, but not unlike our experience at Borek, and while it was recorded rather than live, the music was so damn loud it was virtually impossible to carry on a conversation.
Must be a Chilean thing, which truth be told, I can personally do without.
And last but not least, no blog of mine would be complete without a summary of the critters or bichos that we encountered.
Today we saw various horses, cows, sheep, a European Hare, several unidentified water birds, a Condor, and a little bird called a Chuco, who tried, unsuccessfully I might add, to hitch a ride with us in the cab of the truck.
January 31
Perro Reculiado
While we would be moving to new digs later today, we really did enjoy our stay at the Hotel el Reloj.
It was very tastefully decorated, with several display cases in the lobby that were filled with a wide variety of classic Mate Cup’s/Gourds and Bombilla’s.
Each morning we were served a very hearty continental style breakfast featuring fruit, eggs, yogurt, cereal, and several types of bread, but perhaps our favorite thing about this hotel was the Cuckoo Clock.
Yes, the Cuckoo Clock.
It would cuckoo just once every morning around 8am, and while in a sense it was totally random, that one cuckoo was somehow perfectly in keeping with our surroundings, and made us both smile each time we heard it.
Trip Note/Vignette
Mate is an everyday social drink served in a small cup which is sipped through a metal straw called a bombilla. The cup contains a type of tea called Mate or cimarrón, a traditional caffeine rich, infused drink, and is prepared by steeping dried leaves of yerba mate, and apparently is good for one’s digestion, and apparently will help to keep you regular.
Today it was off to Lago Frio, or Cold Lake, which was only a short ride from town, and where we would be fishing for Rainbow Trout.
There would be another first for Billy today, as he was going to try casting dry flies.
Unfortunately it was very windy, making it difficult for even an experienced fly fisherman to cast, and while he didn’t land anything on a dry, he stuck with it, and as the day progressed his casting had definitely improved.
Because of the wind, we ultimately resorted to trolling with our sinking lines.
And while I caught what was perhaps the biggest Rainbow of the trip so far, it was in the 18 to 20 inch range, overall the fishing was very slow.
Billy caught 5 – 3 using the same Cone Head Bugger as yesterday, and 2 on a Mepps spinner. I only boated 3, with the bigger one being caught on a Chernobyl Ant – our only fish on a dry today – and the others while trolling a Bead Head Wooly Bugger.
And while the fishing was somewhat on the disappointing side, the day was not without its entertainments.
While the scenery, as we had come to expect was outstanding, as an added bonus we got watch a Gaucho play around with a herd of cattle.
Trip Note/ Vignette
A gaucho is a skilled, traditionally nomadic horseman and cattle herder of the South American pampas (grasslands), primarily in Argentina, Uruguay, Brazil, and Paraguay, although they do appear in Chile as well, and are often considered a legendary folk symbol of bravery and freedom.
We watched as this particular Gaucho and his perro, which apparently are all named Perro Reculiado, or Fucking Dog, move a herd of cattle to a new field, ostensibly because the grazing would be better.
Well, as it turns out these particular bovines belonged to the genus Homing pecus, or homing cattle, because as soon as the Gaucho and his perro moseyed off, they all made a beeline back to the field from whence they came!
We’re not sure how it all played out in the end, because by that time we had moved to a different part of the lake, and could no longer see the show.
As noted, we moved into new digs after we got off the water. We were now going to be staying a couple of nights in a cabin at a place, if I got it down right, called the Refugio Rio Coyhaique, which was located just a few km’s out of town. The name made a lot of sense, because the Rio Coyhaique was only a 2 minute walk from the cabin.
Our cabin was very nice, with a comfortable sitting area, small kitchenette, good size bathroom, great pillows, a nice deck, and of all things – a hot tub.
Rather than face the prospect of getting our eardrums shattered yet again by going out to a restaurant, we decided to dine en suite this evening.
While Billy and I made short work of some well-deserved cocktails and a bag of crunchy things, Dave went back into town and acquired a couple of pretty good pizzas from a place called Mamma Gaucha’s, which we all enjoyed together with a very good bottle of Chilean red.
As for todays Bicho’s Count, we saw a few horses, a mess of cattle, a dead sheep – or what was left of it – and a small bird called a Tero.
February 1
So What’s the Paddle Really For?
Lago Atravesado was on today’s agenda , which according to Dave, featured some rather large Brown Trout.
Trip Note/Vignette
All of the Brown Trout we caught were unique in their own right, with no two being the same, even if they came out of the same body of water.
Dave, who spent the night at home with his family in Coyhaique, came by with coffee grinder and French Press in hand, and served up some killer coffee and very tasty goat cheese omelettes.
Once again, the drive to the Lago featured spectacular scenery regardless of which direction you looked. Unfortunately, we were not going to have this particular Lago pretty much to ourselves, because there was a lot of activity at the launch, as several groups were putting in both rafts and boats, hoping no doubt to coral a few of those big Brown’s.
There were also a number of local’s that turned up later in the day, who were having picnics, and just otherwise chilling at the launch site.
Trip Note/Vignette
At several of the lakes we fished, we encountered numerous family groups picnicking on the shore. The only thing somewhat odd about it all was that even though there was plenty of open, flat space, they invariably set up shop right in middle of the actual boat launch area, meaning they had to bug out any time someone wanted to put in or pull out. Everyone was very friendly though, and didn’t seem to mind moving their gear out of the way when required.
The day started off sunny although somewhat cool, but in the afternoon the clouds moved in, and we even got a bit of rain. Unfortunately the wind was with us all day, which mind you was to be expected in the Patagonia, although there was no rule I was aware of that said you had to like it.
Not unlike the previous day, Dave was bound and bent he was going to get Billy a fish on a dry fly, but unfortunately once again the damn wind made it very difficult to cast. Despite working under adverse conditions, Billy tried his best, and while there was no cigar on the fish front, at least his casting was steadily improving.
We Just Couldn’t Seem to Get a Rise Out of Them!
A word about our mostly unsuccessful efforts to catch fish on a dry fly.
While the wind didn’t help, and despite hugging the shore, hoping to target fish that were rising after any insects that may have fallen and/or landed in the water, on each and every lake we rarely saw any fish rising, other than the very, very small ones.
Dave postulated that the dry fly fishing would be better in the afternoons, once the air temperature warmed and the insects became more active, but unfortunately the afternoons were no more productive than the mornings.
Why was it so tough? Good question. Perhaps because the water was warmer than usual, the fish were staying out a bit deeper in the cooler water, which perhaps explains why we caught the majority of our fish when using sinking lines.
Who knows…
So enough already of having the wind blow the line, and fly back into our faces on almost every cast, it was once again time to switch over from floating to sinking lines, and start trolling.
Dave started Billy off with a streamer called a Dalai Lama – really, who comes up with these names – and I used a black/red Cone Head Bugger with rubber legs.
While we didn’t set the world on fire numbers wise, we had a fine day, the overall the size was very good, and we did catch the biggest Browns of the trip so far, with a couple of them topping 20”.
We decided to dine en suite once again, and stopped off at a place in Coyhaique, where we picked up 3 different types/styles of Empanadas, along with some very plumb, perfectly cooked breaded chicken wings. Dave also grabbed some fresh cherries from a roadside stand that had come from the town of Chile Cico, which he described as being the best and sweetest to be had in all of Chile.
One of the Empanada’s was called a Chilean Empanada de Pino, which in this instance featured ground beef, onion, hard-boiled egg, and while it was also supposed to contain a single, whole pitted olive, the one I bit into, much to Dave’s surprise, contained not one – but 2 olives!
We concluded that either the cook was asleep at the switch, or it was an omen of some sort. Hopefully at good one.
Trip Note/Vignette
Watch out for that pitted olive when you bite into your Empanada de Pino, either that, or make sure you have a dentist on speed dial!
Stirred Not Shaken
Before we left for the day, Dave asked our landlord to fire up the hot tub so it would be at temperature when we returned.
Billy was looking forward to giving his sore shoulder a soak, but when he tested the water, found it far too hot.
To his credit, he figured out that the paddle leaning against the wall next to the tub was not a giant flyswatter – although given the size of some of the moths it might have come in handy if you had to fight one off – but rather its real purpose was to stir the water, thereby blending the very hot water on top, with the cooler water underneath, and once he gave it a stir – it was the perfect temperature for a soak.
To cool the cabin down, we had left most of the windows open the previous evening, with the result that in morning, the inside of the windows were covered with little bugs – likely gnats.
Being the innovative thinkers that we are, we concluded that if we wanted to sit out on the deck and not be annoyed by bugs, all we had to do was leave the windows open, and they would all make their way into the cabin, thereby leaving the deck bug free!
Now how was that for innovative thinking.
Trip Note/ Vignette
In all of the places we stayed not one of them had any screens on the windows. Fortunately for us, the only insects we encountered were not the biting kind, consisting primarily of moths and gnats. That said, Billy did mention he had to grapple with a moth while taking a shower that could have starred in a horror movie.
Finally, in terms of today’s Bicho’s tally, we saw plenty of all of the usual suspects, but added a new one to the list, a Caiquen, which is a type of small Patagonian goose.
February 2
What’s In a Name?
In this instance there were several of them, because today we would be fishing Laguna Pedro Aquirre Cerda – which thankfully we would have all to ourselves.
Trip Note/Vignette
This lake is named after Pedro Abelino Aguirre Cerda, a lawyer and educator who served as Chile’s president from 1938 until his death in1941.
We broke our fast today with a German style coffee cake which I believe is called Kuchen, that Dave had ordered from a local bakery. While not the type/style of coffee cake we were generally familiar with back home, it was nevertheless very good, and a perfect accompaniment to Dave’s excellent coffee.
While I know that I’m beginning to sound like a broken record, the scenery was yet again off the charts. Because the area we were travelling to was somewhat cooler than where we had previously been, the mountains were shrouded in thick mists, that were slowly cascading down the sides of them into the valleys below.
It seemed like we had entered one of realms in the Lord of the Rings, and half expected to see Gandolf astride a white steed on the side of the road.
It was all so very surreal.
Before wetting our lines, we would first have to deal with Don Enrique, who was the character that controlled all access to the lake, and who never, ever stopped talking.
After paying the access toll, which came out to about $40 CDN, he insisted on disinfecting the entire raft, following which we had to dip our wading boots into a tub filled with some homemade concoction.
It was all a bit weird, but to his credit, and because this was a rather small lake, he didn’t want anyone bringing in any type of bacteria or whatever from the outside that might mess with the fish – which he seemed to regard as pets.
In fact, he had something of a fit when he saw Billy’s spinning rod, which was sporting a Mepps spinner with a treble hook. He was so concerned that we were going to actually use it, Dave had to promise to leave it in the truck before he would let us launch.
It was a very pretty lake, that featured a view of Mt. Pisco, or rather would have, if not for the mists that covered most of it for the entire day.
This lake was supposed have Brown Trout only, but Billy and I shattered that myth by catching a couple of small Salmon of one kind or another. When we told Don Enrique about it, he asked us why we didn’t kill them, as they were clearly, in his view anyway, an invasive species. I guess only the Browns were accorded pet status.
The fishing was excellent, we had 2 double headers, and by the end of the day had caught a total of 2 Salmon, and 25 very chunky Brown’s, one of which easily topped 20”.
Once again, the dry fly action was virtually non- existent, so we trolled Black Bead Head Wooly Buggers for the entire day.
In terms of today’s Bicho count, other than the usual, we watched swallows pick bugs off the water – they were much better dry fly fisherman than we were – and spotted an unnamed duck with a very bad coiffure.
BBQ Chilean Style
For dinner this evening we would not be visiting any restaurants or picking up some takeout, because Dave had arranged with Don Roberto, who is a professional Asador, to prepare a traditional Chilean BBQ called an Asado.
Well before we arrived, Don Roberto had set up his kitchen behind our cabin in a beautiful little grove, which was only steps from the Rio Coyhaique.
Our meal, which was delicious in every respect, consisted of perfectly cooked lamb, which had been slow roasted over an open wood fire for hours, fresh bread, boiled new potatoes, and a traditional Asado salad consisting of lettuce, fresh tomatoes and onions, which you dressed to your taste with olive oil, chopped cilantro, vinegar or lemon juice.
And let’s not forget the red Chilean wine, several bottles of which met their intended fate.
Trip Note/Vignette
Because it was summer in Chile, our vegetables, and much of the fruit we consumed was farm fresh.
February 3
On the Road Again
Today we would have some distance to travel in order to get to our new port of call Palo Lodge, which was located within the Reserva Nacional Lago Cochrane o Tamango, on beautiful Lago Tamango.
This area is home to the Huemul Deer, which is the National Deer of Chile, and while considered endangered, there must have been a few around, because there were a number of people, together with a couple of Park Rangers, standing on the side of the road pointing and looking up at what was most likely a Huemul.
Trip Note/Vignette
The south Andean deer, also known as the southern guemal, south Andean huemul, southern huemul, or Chilean huemul or güemul, is an endangered species of deer native to the mountains of Argentina and Chile.
By the time we fueled up in the little town of Cochrane, arrived at the lodge, found our cabin, launched the raft, and unpacked, it was approx.2 pm.
Trip Note/Vignette
Apparently fueling your vehicle can be something of a contact sport in Chile, with fuel shortages and long line ups often times being the norm at many gas stations.
Our cabin was very nicely designed and decorated, and included a kitchenette, sitting room, 2 bedrooms, wood stove, a large deck, and floor to ceiling picture windows in each room that provided staggering views of both the lake, and Mt. Cerro Castillo.
Castillo means castle in Spanish, and with its steep basalt walls, and multiple spire like peaks, it certainly did resemble one.
Given the time of day I decided to kick back, chill and enjoy the view, but Billy was having none of that, and he and Dave got out on the water at about 3:30.
Dave continued his efforts to get Billy a fish on a dry fly, but it was not to be, but when they went back to trolling pulled out the big guns in the form of a streamer called the Sex Dungeon – and no, I’m not making this name up.
They landed 7 fish – this lake contains Brown’s only – before calling it a day around 7pm.
Dave had brought along a very tasty lasagna he had made up at home the night before, which we scarfed down with – you guessed it – some delicious Chilean red wine.
February 4
The Great Brown Wave
The morning dawned mostly sunny with relatively light winds, so to take advantage of the conditions, that and it being our last day of fishing, we grabbed a quick bite and headed out on the Lago.
We didn’t even bother with dry flies, and started trolling Black, Bead Head Wooly Buggers, one of which had some flashabou incorporated into it.
While our average size was bigger in the morning – several would have gone 18” or better – the fishing was steady all day, we had several double headers, and by the time it was all said and done, had caught and released over 40 fish.
Later in the afternoon the sun disappeared, the wind picked up, the temperature dropped, and we were hit with a few scattered showers.
Dave and I were keeping an eye on a bank of ominous looking black clouds that seemed to be moving in our direction, but when I suggested to Billy that we might want to call it a day, he had slipped into his “just one more fish” mode, and wanted to stay out a bit longer and see if we, or more particularly he, could corral another.
A loud clap of thunder – which apparently is unusual in these parts – put pay to the notion of sticking around for “just one more fish, which was just as well, because within minutes of arriving back at our cabin, the skies opened up, and we were even treated to some hail.
What we didn’t realize was that while we had rain, it was snowing in the mountains, and once the clouds lifted, we could see that the peaks were covered in new fallen snow.
I’ve now completely exhausted my personal stock of adjectives and superlatives to describe it all, and from this point forward will let our pictures do the talking.
There were not much in the way of Bicho’s to be seen, although we did spot a Mink rummaging around on the shoreline.
For dinner, Dave produced 3 ginormous tomahawk steaks, the cooking of which is a story in and of itself, that he served up with fried potatoes, fresh green beans – and of course some of the red stuff.
It was a perfect ending to a perfect day, and when my head hit the pillow that night, it was within a state of perfect contentment.
February 5
Día de Mudanza
Sadley our trip had by and large come to an end.
We had a leisurely drive to the airport in Balmaceda, where we would be catching our flight back to Santiago.
The airport had not really changed much, if any since I was last there, although they seemed to have added a few more seats to the departure lounge, meaning that only about half the people had to either stand, or sit on the floor.
Our flight took off and landed on time, but our friends at Latam were not quite finished screwing with us just yet.
Just prior to landing we were advised that our luggage would be available on carousel X, but after standing around said carousel for 15 minutes or so, a Latham rep. came by and informed us that they were just pulling our collective legs, and we should all head over to carousel Y, where ostensibly we would be reunited with our bags.
Once we checked into to our hotel, there was no thought of burning the midnight oil, as we would be up before the birds and the sun, in order to ensure we had plenty of time to check in for our flight home.
February 6/7
The Long Walk
While not exactly the same as the dystopian novel by the same name, written by Richard Bachman – it was actually written by Stephen King under a pseudonym – there were a few similarities between this novel and what might have been when trying to find our departure gate at the International Terminal.
But more on this in a bit.
As this was not a direct flight, we would be changing aircraft in Montreal for the final leg of leg of our journey to Toronto.
Our layover in Montreal was only 2 hours, and since we had to clear both customs and security, I was concerned that 2 hours may not have been enough time to make our connection, so when checking in, changed our connecting flight to one that left 3 hours later.
As for my reference to the “Long Walk,” the distance from security to our departure gate was, without a word of a lie, more than 2 kilometers in my estimation. Thankfully we were able to get a lift on a courtesy shuttle, otherwise we might still be there.
Clearing customs and security in Montreal took no time at all, and even though they checked our boarding passes and passports more than 8 times – yes 8 – as we were attempting to make our way to the departure gate, as it turned out, we could have made our original connection.
It seems as though Murphy was now lying in wait for us in Montreal, because our new flight was delayed, meaning that I arrived home more than 3 hours later than planned, but on a positive note, our bags made to Toronto.
Well, Th-th-th-th-th-That’s all, Folks
• Dave, you outdid yourself yet again. In addition to all of your hard work, not only on a day to day basis, but also in organizing virtually every aspect of our trip, you made this so much more than just a fishing holiday, by sharing your extensive knowledge of the country, its people and history with Billy and me. We had a fantastic adventure, great fishing, and can’t really thank you enough.
• To my friend Billy, thank you for stepping up and essentially making this trip possible. I can’t tell you how much I enjoyed sharing this adventure with you – even when you put your stuff on my bed – LOL. You were a great travelling companion, and I appreciate you putting up with my somewhat paranoid need to get to the airport hours ahead of when we really needed to be there without one single complaint. Cheers for the peanut M&M’s, providing and mixing me the perfect Manhattans, and as always, for your infectious enthusiasm, particularly when out on the water. Here’s to our next adventure, wherever that may be.
• All of our hosts wherever we stayed were invariably very helpful and friendly, as were all of the Chilean’s we had the pleasure of meeting throughout our stay.
• To all of the fish we caught, thanks for the long runs, aerobatics, and for always putting a serious bend in our rods.
• And while not a person per se, honorable mention must go to Dave’s tough little Toyota truck for getting us where we needed to be, despite the challenging road conditions, and for managing to climb any number of inclines that would have given a Dall Sheep or Mountain Goat fits.
• And finally, a big shout out to Mother Nature for providing such an amazing setting and backdrop for this expedition.
So until next time – Adios Amigos!
