Arrival in Buenos Aires. From the cosmopolitan capital you fly to Bariloche, from where you begin a journey into one of the last truly wild places in on Earth. From the arid plateau, through the forests and into sight of the Andes. There is nothing but nature around, only the occasional gaucho riding from time to time. Then you come to the ranch and are welcomed with open arms. In the middle of nowhere, it’s good to know there is a wealth of hospitality.
You wake up and look out the window, you can hardly believe your eyes. A delicious breakfast prepares you for a full day at the river. In Quillen, rainbow and brown trout abound, the cold streams are easily to wade. You flare the line with delightful flourishes that lure the fish. Your movements are poetry, and the landscape seems to stand in attention. This is truly a moment worthy of contemplation.
The day’s catch is roasting over the fire and you gather around the asado. It smells delicious and the gauchos are preparing the “mate”. They hand the curious infusion to you. It is bitter and strong, but it goes perfectly with the landscape. As the day wears and you enjoy a delicious meal in nature, you chuckle to yourself. You had to come to the edge of the world to find the most basic and the most important traits of yourself: simplicity and self-reliance.
The gauchos live from the saddle. You initially came for the fly fishing but the friends you’ve made in the last days invite you to ride. It is not your usual sport but the great outdoors is awake and well in your heart. As you canter rhythmically and feel the Andean wind on your face, you loosen the rein, open your chest, and fly.
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