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After getting raked over the coals getting my bike to Santiago ($150 for the excess baggage, plus $132 US for some sort of 'reciprocity' fee to enter Chile), I got to our hotel at 2 am and promptly woke up David and Patrice, my media contingent for this trip (I'm setting up a new trip in Chile for winter 2007/2008). David is a great writer from Victoria, while Patrice is a crazy French photographer from Cranbrook. They didn't seem too keen at 2 am to see me, nor the bright light in their face. I decided to spare waking them up for beers and crawled into a nearby room.
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We hopped in the van the next day, with another guide Pancho - a dreadlocked mountaineer of 24 who looks like he'd be right at home in BC - and our driver Vicente, in a sweet van loaned to us by Patamac Adventures. About an hour and a half out of the city we started climbing into the mountains. As we ascended the steep mountain road, Mt. Aconcagua, South America's highest peak, came into view. Hard to believe, but there it was, all 6955 metres of it. Almost 7 kilometres of mountain. The climb was challenging but doable, and when we got to the top, we were above a low-lying valley mist that looked simply ethereal. it was one of those 'there must be a God' moments and Patrice did a pretty decent job of getting it on his camera, although I've only managed to wring 4 photos out of him so far. Seems he won't let me have anything until he's properly processed it on his laptop. Fair enough - gotta let the pros do what they do best.
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We waited an hour for the rest of the guys, and were just about to start riding up looking for them, when they came down. Patrice blew out his tire and they walked the rest of the way down. An epic start to an epic trip.
Tomorrow we're going on an urban ride in Valparaiso, a beautiful seaside town where the poet Pablo Neruda once lived. I can't believe I get to do this for a living.