The 2003 Andes Trip was a success made sweeter in that it came after horrendous weather conditions in some of the most serious mountains I’ve ever traveled in. In the end we persevered against international border hassles, seemingly endless winds and a serious lack of good information. At times it seemed like we were going to get nothing done, but in the end our team pulled it off. Seldom has success tasted better! I wrote the following during the trip and on the flight back, it’s rough but I hope you enjoy it. Many of Christian Pondella’s excellent photos are up at www.ojinternational.com/andes.htm

Chris Santacroce, Othar “OJ” Lawrence, Pat Morrow (cameraman) and I landed in Santiago on Dec. 6 th . Our driver and general logistics master, David Owen of PowderQuest, picked us up. Shaniti Sosienski, writer, and Christian Pondella, photographer, joined us in the next couple of days.

Dec 11th th Update:

We've spent a week flying and acclimatizing on the western side of the Andean Cordillera. On our first day in Chile we flew from Las Viscachas to downtown Santiago in dreamy conditions; thermalling along at cloud base with condors, perfect. We've also had one decent day of flying at 10-12,000 feet above Santiago at an area called El Colorado, but overall the conditions have been windy, windy and more windy. Down in Santiago the winds are OK, but up high the clouds look like wind-shredded cotton candy every day. OJ, Chris and Pondella took a drive up the Trans-Andes highway, where they found, (despite our map showing a very nice route), a deep, very windy nasty canyon. If conditions were “normal,” meaning anything like what we've seen in other mountain ranges around the world, the Andes highway might be a good place to fly, but here it's a death trap. We're planning to fly with full bivouac gear so a road's not all that important, but our ground and film crew has to be able to chase us, and we have to be able to land somewhere safely. After the recon crew returned and gave their assessment of the route (“It sucks. If you landed in there with the wind we saw you would probably die.”) we are a bit down. The wind continues to blow. However, I've done enough trips big mountain ranges to know that all you need is the right conditions for a short period of time. We still have a lot to do while the wind is blowing. I've met with the sail plane club to discuss alternate routes, the Argentinean military to figure out how we're going to cross the border legally, etc. etc. This stage of an expedition is always the hardest; it's like we've shown up to climb a big mountain but the avalanche danger is horrendous and the route we want to climb is getting raked by massive ice fall every minute. New plans are in order.

Dec. 15 th update.

After 11 days spent flying, watching the wind, and chasing paper in Santiago we are cleared to try and cross the Andes from near Santiago to a town south of Mendoza on the Argentinean side of the Andes. We drove up the Maipo Canyon in howling wind, camped that night at some hot springs in howling wind, and started hiking in the morning in, you guessed it, howling wind (HW for short). The HW has been out constant companion for ten days; if it isn't blowing hard then it's blowing really hard. Othar, Chris and I left Pat, Christian, and Shanti and David Owen at the top of a pass called Portillo de los Piuquines (sp) and hiked together down into a wild, wonderful valley on the Argentina side of the pass. We had hoped that perhaps it would be less windy there, but the HW continued and so we slid down some snow fields and then hiked for about eight hours with our paragliders and bivy gear. We were frustrated that we couldn't fly, but the place was really amazing--it's hard to be pissed off when the scenery is composed of 20,000 foot plus peaks! We saw a few lone Condors with their wings tucked in for extra speed in the crazy wind as we hiked and waded numerous ice-cold glacial "creeks" and navigated off the best map we could find--a "sectional," which is a type of map used by aircraft pilots flying at hundreds of miles an hour. The scale is about one to one million, and at first the map was blank with the note ¨"relief data incomplete." In other words, we were pretty sure we could hike across the Andes following the big river drainages but not too sure...

Just as it was getting dark and we were getting really tired from hiking our paragliders we saw a fairly large stone building--turns out it was the Refugio Militar Real de la Cruz. I fully expected it to be locked up tight, but inside were a bunch of people who had ridden horses in from the other side of the Andes--they were surprised to see us, and they were the first people into the Refugio all year. We hadn't seen anyone all day, and even the trail was untracked—to find people was a pleasant surprise. We had left our stove, tents, everything but our gliders and bivy gear in order to save weight, so a dry, relatively warm place to spend the night was a welcome relief. The horseman ended up teaching us how to drink in Spanish (good fun), and we shared our Advil, fruitcake and sunscreen with them over the best meal we have had so far, courtesy of the horse crew. The next morning, armed with better information, we hiked up about 5,500 feet up to a 14,500 foot pass. There was a much better trail, and only one creek crossing. The views were again mind-snapping, I saw a lifetime of wild alpine faces to climb, massive ice routes waiting to be climbed, and even a few wild animals that looked like mini giraffes or something. The view of the back side of Tupingato, Argentina's second highest peak, was especially memorable. Flying was simply out of the question, the wind speed was never below 40 or 50 miles an hour, at times we were getting literally blown over. Eventually we crossed over the pass and dropped down, tired but happy to have the other side of the Andes in sight.

Again we had good luck when we ran into a military patrol; they were training for an ascent of Tupingato, and soon we were rattling down a crazy road in the back of a Unimog with a group of very hospitable Argentinean soldiers. We were blasted from the hike, so the ride was very welcome. That night they fed us another hot meal, and we bivyed with them under brilliant stars in another very cold night. The temperature extremes here are just that; way below freezing at night, scorching in the sun during the day, freezing in the shade. It's impossible to dress well here, I have never felt such extreme temperature fluctuations.

We eventually crossed into Argentina officially at a very courteous border station and re-united with our crew, who had driven hundreds of miles around to meet us. Amazingly, my German friend Keti from Start TV und Film and her crew arrived at the border literally moments after our crew and we hikers did. It's crazy that the logistics worked out on this! Keti's crew is composed of Herman, a digital Beta shooter, and David on sound.

All the work we had done with Patrick Moore paid off, the entry was easy thanks to our embassy letters, and especially the letter from the Argentinean Commandante! The wind continued to howl as normal, but the three days of hiking and experiences with great people left us feeling satisfied.

We did finally manage to fly a bit that day in the foothills of the Andes, but as soon as were out on the flats heading back toward Chile the wind started to howl and continued to blow all the way back to Portillo, a ski resort on the Chilean side of the Andes. That night it blew hard enough to wake me up several times while sleeping in the hotel...

Although the hike was a great experience, we're not here to be the first to walk our paragliders across the Andes. The trip was worthwhile in that we learned a lot about the terrain, refined our bivy systems, and proved that no matter where we land we can get out, but we're all sick of the wind and not flying in the real “heart” of the Andes. I desperately want to go XC and see these mountains from up high!

Dec. 19

In the morning we got up early to try and fly but the wind was still blowing... By 9 it had mellowed a bit, so we drove up to the top of the ski area and did a flight on the shady side of the valley, another small step in learning more about the Andes. About 11:00 the wind was still OK, so we did one more flight. Chris and I managed to stay in the air and film each other for a while before I landed, but Chris hooked into the day's first real lift and soared around for almost an hour before landing in strong winds, going backwards at times but in control. His flight really fired me up; for the first time all trip we were actually flying in the heart of the Andes!

That afternoon the wind blew hard, and Othar decided he had had enough. The mountains here are crazy wild, and all the time waiting for good conditions and paperwork was enough to sap anyone's enthusiasm. Christian Pondella had to leave as scheduled, and OJ decided to head out in the evening. I respect his decision, all of us were starting to feel our psyches eroding in the wind. It takes a lot of desire to keep a big objective in mind when nothing is going your way. OJ also felt that two people flying would be safer than three, so he started packing.

That evening the wind died a little, so Chris and I said adios to OJ and headed up the hill to see if it was possible to fly. On launch at 6:00 p.m. it was windy, but perhaps OK. Chris hucked off into the wind, and after a few minutes I followed him. Suddenly we were climbing like mad, and we both briefly thought, ¨"AAAHH! Did we just totally blow it?" But no, it was perfect. Windy occasionally, but beautiful, smooth clean lift. We flew away from Portillo and up into the air, climbing to about 4,000M up the side of a wild peak. PERFECT! It was smooth enough that we could actually shoot video of each other and a Condor that came out to play with us. I radioed Chris and asked, “Hey, wanna go get arrested?” We weren't sure about our paperwork, but sometimes it's better to beg forgiveness than ask permission… Soon we were over 4,000M, and the only thing to do was start heading toward Argentina. Chris and I had agreed to fly as a team no matter what, and I felt stronger for his good judgment.

I could write thousands of words about the flight, but the short of it is that we flew across into Argentina in the most perfect evening conditions I have ever experienced. A sailplane pilot in Santiago had told us that in the Andes you have to choose your moments, and this was obviously the moment. David, Shanti and Pat on the ground kept us advised on the winds, while Christian and OJ boarded a bus to Santiago... Our ground crew had to turn around at the border to get their passports so Chris and I made the decision to fly on with no ground wind reports. This might not seem all that important, but I had never seen a single day in the high Andes where I thought I could safely land a paraglider in the crazy valley winds. It was easy to remember the wind blowing us off our feet on the hike last week even as we soared up the sides of huge peaks and watched Aconcagua appear, lit with stunning evening light. We hoped from massive peak to massive peak, at times in strong wind but nothing really insane. We had to carefully work our way up the peaks, the lift was good when you found it but it was evening mountain flying. Several times we were stuck soaring in the wind only a few hundred feet from the valley floor. We weren't next to the road at this point, but after walking across the Andes we knew we could get out from anywhere.

Finally we hooked into perhaps the last good climb of the day and soared up a huge peak just on the border between Argentina and Chile. A group of climbers camped high watched us soar past in the evening light; what did they think of the crazy pilots so high so late and obviously flying across the border? Later I learned that many of the guards on the Chilean side came out to watch us, and they knew about our efforts and were rooting for us. Big dreams fire everyone up. As we topped at over 4,200M on the border there was only one thing to do: hook a turn and dive into Argentina!

At altitude the conditions were absolutely wonderful, but as we glided from 4000+M toward the already shaded valley on the Argentinean side of things I was very, very concerned about the lower-altitude valley winds. Chris and I glided together and yelled back and forth in the perfect light, then dropped into the valley. The tail wind was strong, about 20 to 25 miles an hour, but we landed cleanly near the mouth of the Rio Horcones, and laughed ourselves silly over a perfect flight. We had spent almost two hours in the air, flying in the most stunning evening conditions I can ever remember. To climb up out of the valleys and suddenly see the highest peaks in the Andes at shoulder-level was a perfect moment. Chris said he, “Felt like a baby bird that's just fallen out of the nest.” I fully agree; normally I feel strong and sharp in the air, but each flight in the Andes made me feel small and inexperienced. It was a short flight, maybe 30K, but to fly over the very back of the Andes in such conditions is a massive gift, made sweeter by knowing how extremely rare such conditions are! After landing Chris and I called David on the Sat. phone to let him know we were OK, then hiked up a side valley and bivied in a lush meadow with a few handfuls of nuts for dinner. We kept laughing and smiling at our fortune to be in such a place after such a flight. Even though conditions didn't look that great, we have launched every time with all our bivy gear just in case we somehow found it perfect. Days earlier Chris had said, “One of these days it's going to be a crime not to go for it.” We had found the day.

It was a good thing we had our gear, as the Pat, David and Shanti weren't able to make it over until about 8 the next morning. Our German Digital Beta crew also arrived shortly after we woke up, and as usual filmed us getting out of the bivy bags and with Aconcagua as a backdrop. Their high-quality digital Beta footage and sound will really help make this an amazing show when we start editing next month. Chris and I were able to shoot lots of good footage on our flight also, so combined with Pat's on the fly DV I feel we have a very strong show in hand.

After packing up we walked for a few minutes down to the first Argintinean border patrol station (it's a bit like California on this border, there are patrol stations and so on well back from the actual border line). We were a bit nervous, but the border crew knew about our efforts and we ended up spending a half hour talking with them and filing out paperwork. One guy took it upon himself to really help us through the process, his enthusiasm and the ease of dealing with what could have been a sticky situation was the cap to the trip. Of course, by about 11:00 the winds were blowing hard again, so we headed down to Mendoza to shoot some more air to air footage with the German crew.

Chris flew Herman with his massive digi Beta rig while I circled around them; Chris is one of the few tandem pilots I know who could safely fly a $200,000 camera and operator, amazing. Thanks to his efforts we got the high-quality digi-beta air-to-air shots we needed.

We tried to fly the next day near where we landed after our flight, but again it was howling. I started to feel that we had been even luckier with our moment.

That night we drove back up to Portillo and Chris flew again, but had to B-line stall and take some pretty aggressive maneuvers to avoid being blown up the wrong valley. Somehow in all of this he managed to get the best POV footage I've ever seen. I had already decided it was too windy to fly, but Chris somehow made it work. His comment was, “Ah, I think you wouldn't have had any fun. I didn't.” He had pushed just a little bit, and the Andes pushed back hard. The next morning I flew to get more POV footage despite it seeming a little bit windy, and I too had a less than enjoyable flight and a bit of a rough landing. After watching me take deflations and get tossed around in the air Chris packed it in and walked down. Every time we pushed just a little bit the Andes slapped back really hard; the conditions were nothing outrageous, but everything in the Andes is bigger, more powerful and just flat-out on a wilder scale than any mountain range I've ever flown in. What would seem safe enough in the Rockies or the Alps may be lethal in the Andes. After the experiences, pro and con, that Chris and I had gone through we decided to call it quits while we were still ahead. We had experienced the Andes on foot, in the air and ultimately done the first crossing of the Andean Continental Divide on paragliders. The Argentinean and Chilean papers ran a story about our efforts, and the Santiago Air and Space Museum requested one of our gliders to hang in their massive and well-run museum along with the first sailplane to cross the Andes and the first plane to cross the Andes. Nobody down there could believe we had managed to pull the trip off, and we felt very, very lucky to have done it safely.

I'd like to thank Chris, OJ, David, Pat, Shanti, Pondella and team Deutschland for having the faith to come on the trip, and then performing like rock stars despite all the problems. Patrick Moore in Chile guided us through the paper jungle and assisted us massively with everything (who else could have got us letters from the US, Canadian, and Argintinean Embassy Staff???). Jim Gunning at Red Bull North America somehow believed in it, and without Red Bull's help we would of course never have done anything in the Andes. While everybody had a “job” to do, everyone also did a lot more than their job and without that effort this trip would have failed. It was a hard trip, but we call came back safely and better friends. I feel confident that thanks to Pat, OJ, Chris and the Germans we have a great show in the can to share with our friends and the public this spring. I may go back to the Andes to fly again, but it would be hard to top the experiences we had, and I have this feeling that walking away from the gambling table while we were up thousands of good memories may be the best move. To quote Messner, “Mountains are neither fair or unfair. They are just dangerous.” To have found a beautiful moment and safely flown it to the limit with a good team is more than enough for me.

Notes:

David Owen at PowderQuest ( www.powderquest.com ) is great to work with. I'd like to go back and ski in the Andes with him, I think the skiing may be better than the flying and David knows the Andes like no other gringo.

Many local Chilean pilots and friends contributed to the success of the flight, so thanks to Marcello, Eduardo and the whole Geoexpediciones crew for their assistance.

Maria and Nicolas at Red Bull Argentina and Nicholas and Pablo at Red Bull Chile also helped with maps and contacts, I look forward to doing more with them, it's great to have “family” in South America.

The Santiago “Planedora” sailplane club helped us with their knowledge and enthusiasm, thanks.

Guillermo Doble at the Hotel Farellones gave us some excellent contacts with the Chilean Air Force and helped us broaden our understanding of Chilean wine, thanks.

I flew a Gin Gangster and Sup Air X Alps harness. I took a Gangster as I wanted a bomb-proof relatively light glider with good performance, but in the end I came to appreciate this glider for far more than that. It's the first DHV 2 glider I've flown in about three years that I really felt performed well and was a joy to fly; it thermals very well, stays inflated and is just a great glider. It's the first DHV 2 glider I'll fly instead of my Boomerang; a lot of the time I was flying with one or no hands on the brakes while filming, it truly flys itself a lot of the time. It doesn't lag behind the pilot in thermals, but also doesn't surge and require constant attention like a comp glider. I had several dicey flights on it, and it was a comfort to be under it when getting slapped around. I'll keep flying it a lot, especially in the mountains. Amazing gear

I had used the Sup Air harness in the X Alps and was very happy with its ability to carry all the bivy gear and still fly well, it's a great product I'll continue using. Gin has a new mountain XC harness out, I'll post a report on it once I have a chance to fly it.