Puerto Montt is located at the very northern end of the world reknown Chilean Fjords, in Seno Relonacvi, Reloncavi Sound. Two snow-capped Volcanoes, Volcan Osorno and Volcan Calbuco (hotlips?), dominate the majestic backdrop to the small town of about 180,000 inhabitants, many of which are of German descent. Gingerbread houses and Cafes, where Kuchen and Torte are served, dot the town, even the beer is brewed under the old German Reinheitsgebot (law of purity of ingredients)
Nearly 700 miles south of Santiago, it is the southern terminus for the continental portion of the Pan American Highway. This highway forms a continuous string (except for a short gravel interruption in Panama) of scenic highway, stretching from here to Lund, BC for Canadians (about 15,000 miles) or somewhere in Alaska (about 16,000 miles) for Americans.
Puerto Montt used to be the centre of an important salmon-farming industry. The salmon all sickened and died from an Aids like virus some time ago, and the industry has collapsed, and with it the major source of employment for a lot of local labour as well as labour imported from other parts of Chile. Extensive affordable housing developments ($35,000 for a house) had been constructed in the outskirts of Puerto Montt. With unemployment comes the ususal petty crime, graffiti and poverty. Some of the largest salmon farms have 'cleaned up', as it is described here, and slowly people are getting back to work.
People seem to be generally happy, the sea and surrounding country side provides an abundance of food, among it 85 different varieties of potato. There are crystal clear lakes with plenty of trout.
There are also extensive National Parks which delight the naturalist and adventure seeker. Spectacular waterfalls, rapids and majestic alerce trees. These trees grow about 1 centimeter a year, so take an awful long time to grow. Consequently historic deforestation of foot hills, to create vast cattle and sheep farms, is almost irreversible.
But, there are large forests with trees several thousand years old, and Chile is proud to protect it's natural beauty by designating a large proportion of it's landmass to Natural Parks.
I headed for 'the hills' somewhere between those mystic volcanoes, one of which is still active. And - by the way - Chile has at least one earthquake per day somewhere, luckily most are 'harmless'.
Tour destination: the 700 hectar hacienda Fogon Los Alerces, a breeding ranch of 'corralero' horses, Chilean Rodeo Horses. A breed that is similar to the American Quarter Horse, but with a distinctly Andalusian look and bearing.
The cowboys welcomed us astride their well fed, smooth and shiny little mounts in full regalia. Flat brimmed hat, short poncho, sash, tasselled black leggins, spurs with 42 spikes (softer on the horses than one sharp one) and wood carved stirrups on traditional farming saddles. The seven foot tall Chilean owner invited us into a clean equipment shed, to sit on bales of hay. Local musicians strummed their instruments, dancers started to swirl and stomp, and a team of attendants offered wine and empanadas, the latter fresh from a brick oven.
The adjacent stables were squeaky clean, horses standing in deep aromatic straw, munching happily on hay. One row of stables for the brood mares, one for the stallions, the rest of the herd was out grazing in the million dollar view country-side, horizon to horizon flowering meadows, tall alerce trees...and the local Mount Fuji setting the scene.
We ambled through the park like setting to the private rodeo ring where the ranch hands would show off their and their mount's skills. A placid black bull, fat and happy, waited inside the corral to help 'train the horses'. He had no other work to do, except run around at great speed for short interval whenever the need arose.
The rodeo corral forms a full circle, however part of it is blocked off for the bull, and the working ring forms almost a curved half moon. The riders (especially in competitions) work in pairs.
The old purpose was to separate and pin cattle, hold them still long enough for branding, and release them again into the herd. Today a lot of that work is aided by vehicles or even helicopters, and horsemanship has been relegated to the level of sport.
The bull is released from his pen, runs through a gate and runs hellbent for leather into the ring. One rider, his horse in body contact parrallell with the bull, gallops flat out to steer the bull in the desired direction. The second rider literally gallops sideways - also flat out - with his horse's chest pressed against the body of the bull to cause him to stop. Two padded areas in the barrier of the ring are designated 'stops', and the idea is to pin the pull somewhere against the barrier. Time and accuracy are of prime importance. A rider pinning and stopping the bull at the bull's shoulder level gains most points. Riders pinning the bull further back, i.e. at his mid-riff, hips, or rear end receives less and less points the further back he manages to stop the animal. Our ranch hands performed like champions, as indeed they were. The dining hall next to the ring was filled with trophies, ribbons and prizes for both, success as one of the most important breeding establishments as well as mastery in the national sport of Chilean Rodeo. Old Paolo, the bull, performed his role perfectly, as he knew exactly that he had to run like mad, and then stand like a lamb after the riders cornered him. Nevertheless, he did not look anywhere close to a family pet, and the riders led him away by a long strong rope, attached to a thick chain fastened around the bulls head and hooked around his sharply pointed horns.
The real hacienda family pets, a large San Bernhard and a small Poodle, joined the group for lunch, though. Succulent meat, the famed potatoes, freshly picked fruit, wine and a couple of pisco sours and home concocted fruit liqueurs added to the general feeling of well being, enough that the whole bunch of us fell asleep on the bus driving back to the port.
Spectacular anchors aweigh, leaving the mountain-fringed shores of Puerto Montt behind and entering the northern fringes of the Chilean Fjords...inland waters, giving everyone a bit of a break from the seasickness inducing Pacific swells out in the open ocean.
