From Mascardi to Lake Hess: Autumn Trekking
Mauricio Bianchi - Adventurer

On the 12th of June of 1999, Julio, Néstor and I arrived at San Carlos de Bariloche. WE dedicated the day to preparing our equipment and buying some food for our journey. We were planning on leaving early in the morning. The city was almost empty; the off season was almost over.

Rain, rain…and more rain

On the 13th of June, the three of us parted. Raúl would join us two days later. His parents were celebrating their 60th anniversary in El Bolsón. It was 9:00am and the sun was rising.

As soon as we got off the bus, on the way to El Bolsón, it began to rain heavily, and the other passengers looked at us, bewildered. The bus driver didn't drop us where we had asked him to; before walking the path on the Northern shores of Lake Mascardi, we had to fight off the "mosqueta" rosebushes(an exotic, thorny plant that has the habit of growing close together to one another) for over an hour. We collected a pile of thorns on our bodies, all under the heavy rain. It was going to be a great journey!

When we were free of the thorn bushes, and on the intended path, we used a fallen tree trunk to cross the Fresco river. Then we set out on a muddy trail, where we made bets on who would fall the most times.

After walking South for a long time, during which we traced the Eastern banks of Lake Mascardi, was topped in Leones beach. WE prepared lunch: Salami and cheese. We were getting cold and it was still raining. We couldn't even sit down; everything was wet.

We soon set our heading West, towards Llum Lagoon. We followed its Southern shore, and at about 2:00pm, we came to an abandoned post. There was a small shack, but to us, it was a mansion.


We decided that we had walked enough for the day. We hanged our clothes, hoping they would dry up(almost impossible), then we lit a fire and cooked our dinner. We thought of sleeping in the shack, even though it was small and had a dirt floor, but the presence of small rodents made us change our mind. Instead, we built the tent. 

At 6:00pm, the sun was setting.

What a beautiful sight!

On the 14th of June, we woke up to a radiant sun. A few horses watched us put away the tent. We had breakfast, and half an hour after we started walking, we came to the highest point of our journey: the pass between Mount Justo and Fray Elguea. When we got there, the sun was shining and we took the chance to spread out our wet clothes.

We also dedicated some time to picture taking. The view all around us was beautiful: To the West, Mount Tronador, surrounded by Lake Mascardi and the Diego Flores de León, Bonete and Cresta de Gallo mountains. To the South, the beautiful Piuké island in the lake and Mount Falso Ganítico. To the East, Llum lagoon looked like a mirror, surrounded by the forest.

After long contemplation, we rested. We had to get to the Western banks of Mascardi and had a long way to go. That day we walked across a rich forest. After an hour, it began to drizzle.

With the day's last rays of sun, we arrived at a stream called Casalata and found a great fallen cypress. It had formed a bridge, and although it was wet and a fall could have been serious, we crossed the stream like circus tightrope walkers.

The cold could be felt in the bones, but we set up camp, and a good dinner comforted us and got us ready for bed.

One more

On Tuesday, we had arranged to meet Raúl in a place known as the "Los Césares" camping grounds. After putting away the tent, which was hard because it was rigid after the night's low temperature, we set out. We were walking on muddy grounds, covered in a thin sheet of ice, which made crunching noises at every step. We soon arrived at Claro stream. We looked for a trunk or stepping stones to cross, but found nothing and had to get wet. We stepped on rocks until the middle of the stream and then had to wade, knee deep, to the other side. It was not very pleasant.

After crossing the stream, we saw footprints. We supposed they were Raúl´s. We followed on and crossed the bridge built by the Bariloche Andes Club. It was set up 13 years ago, in order to walk over the "milky" Manso river(its white water comes from Mount Tronador's glacier). A few minutes later, we were sitting down in the meeting point, drinking mate. We laid out our wet clothes. It was 1:00pm.

After our sober, 60 minute lunch, we set off towards the Los Césares falls, composed by three successive cascades. After enjoying this sight for a while, we carried on, towards Lake Los Césares. We found it after two hours of marching among low branches and canes and crossing several streams. After another hour, we were at the middle of its Northern banks. The ground around the lake was already covered in snow.

We camped in a small beach, from where we could see trout swimming. They were very large, and we were eating noodles.

That night, the cold was overwhelming, and we built a bonfire to stay warm and…to dry our wet clothes!

Map, the woods and….canes

That Wednesday we had trouble getting up. It was very cold outside, and our sleeping bags entrapped us with their warmth. Breakfast was comforting, and the sun was beginning too shine.

For navigation, we were using a Military Geographic Institute satellite image, and a CAB trail guide. The latter's 1999 edition included a new path that joined the Los Césares Lake and Fonck Chico lakes. We were planning on exploring it. We did so much exploring that our final route wasn't even in the map. There was no trail from where we stood to the Southern corner of the lake, but nature was on our side. The lake's shore, naturally muddy, was frozen; it was covered by a sheet of ice that allowed walking. Except for a tree here and there, we had no major difficulties. A couple of times, we ended up walking directly over the water. I must confess that when we had doubts, we would send Néstor first. He weighs 120 kilograms; if he could cross, we all could.

From the lake's corner, we were supposed to find the beginning of the trail, which was not used very frequently. We discovered that the trail's "entrance" was marked incorrectly on the map, but Raúl´s "mountain eye" spotted it after searching for a few minutes. The trail starts in a low wood, and then crosses two large mud fields, which we could cross without sinking thanks to the ice.

Without realizing, we walked into the most beautiful forest I have explored. It was full of large, ancient trees. The low base of the forest was crowded with bamboo canes. The vegetation was covered in snow, shining as if enchanted.

The sun was shining through the leaves, and we were waiting for dwarves to kick us out of their magical territory. Once we had said, "What a beautiful place!" about a hundred times, tall bamboo canes began to get in our way. It was an unending cane field, sometimes the canes stood so close together that they formed pitch black galleries, where the sun was hidden completely. We walked for two hours and a half, crossing numerous streams, downhill the whole way.

At this point, we had realized that the guide was not accurate. It stated that the path was short and direct. In reality, it was a long zigzag. The path was marked as if it bordered the Southern flank of two lagoons. In reality, we walked down their Northern flank.

A river in the way

As we approached Fonck Chico Lake, I was talking to Néstor about what we would have for dinner. In the middle of our menu, Julio stopped walking(He and Raúl were slightly ahead). "We have to cross that…" "That" was the river that ran from Fonck Chico to Lake Hess. Raúl searched for a tree trunk that could save us, but found none. It was 5:30pm and it would soon be dark. We decided to set up camp and get wet in the morning. We were tired, and crossing a 10 meter wide river of unknown depth was not recommendable.

On the 17th of June, we woke up and were surprised when we saw the snow-covered surroundings. More than 5 centimeters had fallen during the night. The landscape had changed, it was now even more beautiful. After breakfast we organized the crossing. We put everything that could be ruined by the water into plastic bags, and tied three short pieces of rope to our walking sticks(forming a long rope, almost as wide as the river).

Raúl was the first to cross. We saw that the current was not too strong, and only waist-deep. Julio crossed next. We were crossing with our back-packs balanced over our shoulders, and Julio almost slipped a couple of times. But he made it. I was next, and on the way I realized that the ground was covered in round stones and that I had t o be careful, specially because the cold makes the feet loose sensibility. Néstor crossed last, and once we were on the other side, we changed into dry clothes. At noon, we were walking.

The final stretch

After a while, we arrived at Fonck Chico Lake, right where the park ranger has a house. We took some pictures and enjoyed the surroundings.

We knew that all that separated us from Lake Hess was a 4 kilometer dirt road. Raúl and Julio hurried on, and I stayed behind with Néstor to enjoy every step of the way. Our trip was ending, so we began to sing(we are terrible but we felt like it). We also began planning future trips.

We arrived at lake Hess. We found a few buildings: A park ranger post, teahouses and a National Carabineers station, all this on the way to the Los Alerces waterfalls. Leonel, a friend of Raúl, was waiting for us. We had arranged for him to pick us up that Thursday.

Our return to Bariloche had a sad side: Going through the Los Moscos Lake region, where we saw evidence of the worst forest fire in 80 years. Anyway, we were still happy we had had time to enjoy contact with nature, with its troubles always outmeasured by its gifts, and…I enjoyed the most important thing in the mountains and in life: Being in the company of good friends.