I practically grew up in a tent, I went camping so much as a child and teenager. I remember weekend after weekend camping at Lake Mead, Lake Powell or Lake Mojave. I’ve camped in the Grand Canyon and in Zion. I’ve camped in Missouri, Idaho, California, Arizona, Utah and Nevada. But for years — I haven’t camped anywhere! As I grew out of summer church camp and moved away from home (and my parents’ camping gear), I’ve stopped camping. Despite sometimes being a girly-girl, I truly love the outdoors and don’t at all mind roughing it for a few days.

So when my group of international friends with the Hash House Harriers decided to camp out after one of our events, I was excited to add Chile to my list of places I’ve slept under the stars. A friend of our group is building a Tubinger Brewery in Pirque, and offered for us to use his land as a campsite. Just an hour outside Santiago, yet deep in the countryside and far from city lights, the spot made the perfect overnight stay with my favorite friends.

Pirque

The area was beautiful, with wildflowers blooming in green pastures of grass that fluttered in the fresh air. Horses trotted down the streets as stray dogs chased them in a scene every Chilean countryside is familiar with. We walked through it all, covering essentially the entire town, for our traditional Hash walk/run before the party.

We walked and walked, following the trail set for us, until we could no longer find the trail that is supposed to be marked by dots of flour and chalk arrows. Lost, we tried to follow the dry river bed and then later an irrigation canal in hopes of finding the trail that organizers said followed water. After walking for far more than an hour (the usual time for a Hash trail), we still never found the trail. Luckily, the scenery and weather was nice to keep us entertained on such a long walk. The runners finished their path and saw us nowhere in sight. Anxious to start the barbecue, they called to ask how far behind we were. We were still very lost, so Mark ran ahead to find the campsite and brought his Jeep back to pick us up.

A huaso and his horse on the way to a fonda.

So lost. In an endless dry riverbed of wildflowers.

Still lost. “Maybe this is what they meant by ‘river’?”

Mark and I.

Along the road, two little puppies chased after us, following us for quite a bit. When Mark returned with the car, I asked him if we could keep the precious multi-colored one. He said no, but asked me to hold her so he could turn the car around without running her over. But when it was time for us to leave, the boyfriend couldn’t just leave her there on the side of the rather busy street (Aw, a sensitive side). We brought her back to the campground, contemplating whether we could keep her.

I wanted her so badly, but my allergies were already acting up in the 20 minutes I held her. So after no one at the hash could claim another stray dog (some of our members have adopted up to six), we drove back down the road to find her brother (He had kept walking with the group who couldn’t fit in the car, but didn’t follow all the way to the campsite). We united the siblings and took them back where they started following us, near a house we hope is their home. It literally broke my heart to leave them there as they chased the car down the road, but if we took home every stray puppy in Chile, we would all have 100 and the subsequent allergy attacks would have me dead!

The cutest puppy.

Katy and the puppy!

After returning the puppies, we went about our Hash circle business before having a wonderful barbecue. Mark made homemade sausages for the “Octoberfest Hash” and they were tasty (I’ll spare you the list of ingredients, though). The German sausages, Chilean choripan and heaps of other meat accompanied by several salads and some pastries made quite the feast. We ate with our hands, out of lids, jars that had been emptied and whatever we could find because A) no one in the group remembered plates and forks or B) everyone assumed someone else would bring them (I guess that’s why our leadership is the “mis” management committee!). Luckily, the Hash is easy-going and the lack of supplies made for an even more entertaining dinner hour.

The circle.

Part of our hash mis-management team.

Nora and I.

What’s camping without a campfire and smores? It’s not! We did great on the campfire front, but not so much on the treats. First of all, graham crackers are impossible to find in Chile, so we used “vanilla” crackers, which are actually a tasty combination with the roasted marshmallows. No one brought chocolate bars though, so we tried substituting that ingredient with old chocolate sauce someone found in their camping gear. Ha. For once, leaving out the chocolate was the better option, I assure you.

We sat around the campfire, chatting and staring at the fire as most people do when they camp. Nora and I, the youngest of the group, embarrassingly went to bed first, before midnight, while the rest party-hopped to a nearby Chilean fonda. The little town was having an after-Dieciocho party that apparently was great fun.

Campfire!

Good morning smiles.

Now that we have a tent, expect more blogs about the Chilean countryside. More camping is definitely in the future.

—JDF