MOUNTAIN ROADS AND HIDDEN VALLEYS
Feb 10, 2014
Lago Rapel – Reserva Nacional Radal Siete Tazas
I can’t believe what I’m reading in an e-mail from my brother! DHL has lost the shipment with the front fender, the last missing part and the one that’s been the hardest to find. What a nightmare! I call the BMW shop in Osorno to find out if the fender is indispensable for getting the bike into operable condition. According to them, it’s possible to do without. An hour later my brother sends me the tracking number of the shipment – without the fender.
This is beginning to wear me out! For most of the day I’m just hanging out on the terrace of the hotel and on the lake shore, not in the mood to do much of anything.
Lago Rapel
At 4 PM I finally give myself a kick in the butt and get on the road. I arrive at Siete Tazas National Park reserve just in time to install myself on the Radal camping site before sunset.
Too late to conquer one of the regular spots equipped with a table with benches and a barbecue, I install my little tent somewhere in between. As I’m beginning to put my food out on a rock to prepare a frugal evening snack, the lady cooking dinner for her family at the neighboring spot stops by to invite me to their table. At first I understand it as an offer to share the table, but it turns out to be a dinner invitation! She thought it was too sad to see me munch on my sandwich all by myself. How sweet is that? I’m glad that I have at least a bottle of wine and an interesting story to contribute.
Carolina, her husband Javier, their 8-year old daughter Javiera and their teenage nieces Maribel and Maira are great company. Munching Carolina’s spaghetti with delight, we spend the rest of the evening chatting, laughing and fooling around with little Javiera.
Maribel. Javiera, Maira, Carolina and Javier
Feb 11, 2014
Reserva Nacional Radal Siete Tazas – Baños de la Monja
I spend most of the morning with my lovely neighbors, cooking coffee for our joint breakfast and hanging out on the banks of the river flowing by the camping site. Javier and Javiera get their bathing suits on and brave the chilly waters, the rest of us prefer to sit in the sun and watch.
Cold!
Around 11 AM I finally take off to visit the Siete Tazas national park. First stop is Salto Velo de na Novia with a drop of approximately 50 meters.
Velo de la Novia
The namesake Siete Tazas are seven ponds in a row at the bottom of a deep, narrow canyon cut into the basalt bedrock. The water falls from one pond directly into the next one. Right now the flow of water is quite limited, but it doesn’t take much to imagine the change of scenery when the snow melts in the spring.
Siete Tazas
During that time of the year, Salto de La Leona must also be impressive – a narrow gap in a vertical wall of rock, spitting out when large amounts of water. However, right now it’s only a thin trickle, just enough to fill a small turbid pond at the bottom.
Salto de la Leona
I take the steep hike down to the pond, but refrain from joining the other visitors in the stale water. Disgusted by the trash littering the whole area, I turn around and head back up the hill to the park exit.
I haven’t even driven two kilometers when two shadows with huge backpacks emerge from the thick cloud of dust hovering above the very busy dirt road. This can’t be fun… and indeed the way they are waving at me with their thumbs high up is signalling some degree of desperation. Meet Pancho and Cristal, a young couple from Viña del Mar on their way “somewhere South”.
As we chat during the following hours, they mention that a truck driver told them about some thermal springs some 150 kilometers South from here, with a camping site and hot pools and all. Since I have no specific plans I agree to take them there. On the way we buy provisions for a barbecue. Indeed there is a pool at Baños de la Monja, but it’s just normal, chlorinated pool water. However, the owner of the camp site is promising us a hot mud bath for the next morning.
Our barbecue is delicious, but we aren’t amused by the bunch of teenagers watching a stupid action movie on their computer with the volume of their active speaker boxes turned up all the way. They don’t give a damn about our friendly request to turn it down a few notches.
Cristal and Pancho, Baños de la Monja
Feb 12, 2014
Baños de la Monja – Pitril
I haven’t got much sleep thanks to the noisy teenagers who were going at it until after 3 AM. Pancho and Cristal, however, seem to have slept just fine through all the noise. Cristal is all excited about the promised hot mud bath.
Shoveling mud, Baños de la Monja
However, it turns out that the hot mud doesn’t come from a thermal spring as we thought it would. It needs to be heated for about two hours in a huge wood-burning oven specifically built for this purpose. We don’t feel like waiting this long, cancel our “reservation” and leave.
Pancho and Cristal continue with me to the Saltos de Laja waterfalls, located South of Chillan right off Highway 5. At the end of a dry summer, the falls aren’t much more than a trickle. Nonetheless the place is incredibly crowded, probably thanks to its proximity to Route 5. Too busy for me! I drop off my companions and move on to find quieter pastures.
I soon leave Route 5 to follow the Bio Bio river upstream into the mountains. The construction of three hydroelectric dams has dramatically changed the valley and the lives of the valley’s native Pehuenche population. The town of Ralco has become the civic center of the valley, accommodating many of the people displaced by the huge project. It is a clean small town with a brand-new infrastructure. Large bi-lingual signs in front of the modern buildings ensure that all visitors know about the high school, the library, the professional college and the visitor center the Spanish power company had to sponsor as part of the deal that allowed them to flood most of the native’s habitat.
Professional college, Ralco
Ralco
From Ralco I take a gravel road up the Queuco valley towards the small communities of Pitril and Cauñicú, hoping to find the quiet place I’m looking for. A few kilometers up the valley I give a ride to a farmer on his way home with a heavy sack of maize over his shoulder. He helps me find exactly what I wanted, on the rural camping site set up by his next door neighbor Bernardo. The neighbor’s little twin boys make sure I have plenty of firewood. No noisy teenagers tonight, only the soothing murmur of the river flowing by… Paradise!
Queuco valley
My quiet hideaway, Pitril
Feb 13, 2014
Pitril – La Sombra (near Curacautín)
According to my map it is possible to continue from Ralco up the BioBio valley to Nitrito and then to Lonquimay, with a possible detour to the Barco lagoon high up in the mountains. Passing the Pangue and Ralco dams on my way, I get to Chanqueco without problems, but then it’s the end of the road for me. The road to the lagoon is too steep, my little front wheel driven VW Gol is losing traction and ends up sliding slowly backwards on the loose gravel. I might have been able to get past this obstacle by going up up tail first, using the engine’s weight to improve traction, but who knows what would come next… I cautiously steer the car backwards until I find a place to turn around.
On the road to Nitrito I soon find myself in the same situation. Apparently regular gravel roads according to the map, the roads to the Barco lagoon and from Chanqueco to Nitrito are in reality only suited for trucks and all-wheel drive vehicles. Once again slowly retreating in reverse gear, I’m squeezing by a truck heading up the hill. The driver confirms that the road is not passable for regular passenger cars, also because of a knee-deep water passage further ahead. The only remaining option is to turn around and go back more than 100 km to Highway 5. At least the drive is fairly scenic and I got a few nice shots of the Callaqui volcano – not to mention a delicious roadside lunch: Bucketsful of large, juicy, sweet blackberries!
Callaqui volcano, Bio Bio valley
Lunch!
North of Victoria I leave Highway 5 again, heading West on a gravel road towards Tolhuaca National Park. It’s more than 50 dusty kilometers through flat, quite boring terrain until I finally reach the mountains and Laguna Malleco, my intended final destination for the day. To my disappointment, the camp site at the lagoon is already full, and so is the site at the hot springs a little further ahead.
Tolhuaca volcano
I have no choice but continue South to Curacautín. I finally stop for the night at a rural camping on Route 181 near La Sombra, a few kilometers East of Curacautín.
I haven’t even put up my tent yet when my only “neighbors” on the entire site invite me to join them for a glass of wine at their fire. Joel and Joseline are teachers from a high school in Concepcion. She in her late 30s, he in his late 40’s, but somehow they seem to be from an earlier decade. The 70’s music from the speaker box dangling from a nearby tree is lining up perfectly with their demeanor and outfit to create an adorable touch of Woodstock…
Joseline and Joel
My lamb steak finds a place on their grill and we spend the whole evening sitting eating, drinking, chatting… Joel gets a guitar from his car and starts playing and singing a mix of popular tunes and self-authored songs. He is a good performer, in particular I like his cueca about the exodus of people from the town of Penco after the 2010 earthquake and tsunami. By the time we finally call it a night, three empty wine bottles stay on the table.
Feb 14, 2014
La Sombra – Lonquimay
At 4 AM I’m wide awake and can’t get back to sleep, God knows why. I crawl out of my tent into the moonlit night and… do my laundry! It was about time anyway, thanks to the dust on all those gravel roads my jeans were about to lose the right to call themselves “blue”. I lay out everything to dry on a large field stone, securing it with smaller stones against the wind, still blowing from the East with brio. Back in the tent I fall asleep right away. Strange sleeping medicine, but hey, at least my jeans are clean!
By the time I wake up again, the sun is already high up in the sky. While I’m packing up my tent, Joel is already on the guitar again, playing and singing a self-written blues with his raunchy, well-tuned voice. The Spanish lyrics are poetic and rebellious. The guy’s got talent!
The two hippie love birds leave without breakfast, I follow them a little later after my morning coffee. A few kilometers up the bucolic Cautín valley I turn left towards the Cordillera de las Raices and then left again to the gate of Malalcahuello National Park. Past the gate, the shade of the tall, ancient araucarias ends suddenly and the road enters a barren moonscape of volcanic ashes, dominated by the naked slopes of the Lonquimay volcano. Forlorn bushels of dry, yellow grass are dotting some lower-lying areas, otherwise the lift poles and buildings of the Corralco skiing station are the only disruption to this huge monochromatic canvas of sands and ashes. The sandy road continues to climb to a pass at approximately 1800 m altitude. Several volcanoes can be seen from there: Lonquimay right across, Tolhuaca a bit further to the Northwest, Sierra Nevada de Lonquimay and Llaima to the South. Not to forget the glaciers of the Callaqui volcano shining in the distance across the Ralco lake.
Lonquimay volcano, Malalcahuello National Park
View of Llaima volcano from Malalcahuello Natl. Park
View of Sierra Nevada and Llaima volcanoes
Callaqui volcano
Tolhuaca volcano
On Christmas Day 1988, a side vent erupted on the Northeastern flank of the Lonquimay volcano, releasing a massive stream of lava into the valley descending towards the Bio Bio river. When the Navidad crater finally stopped spewing in 1990, the entire upper half of the valley was buried under a layer of lava between 30 and 60 meters thick. Filling the valley wall to wall, the vast lava field is almost looking like a chocolate brown glacier.
Navidad crater
Lava stream from the Navidad crater
Lava stream from the Navidad crater
A sign is pointing down a staked-out path into the void, indicating the trail to the verge of the Navidad crater. Too bad I left my hiking boots with my stuff in Bariloche! I put on my sneakers and descend on fine sands and cinder towards the shallow bowl laying below. Some might find this almost plant-less, nearly monochromatic volcanic desert boring or even depressing, but I’m fascinated!
The ascent on the other side is much less comfortable, a climb on coarse, loose, sharp-edged slag. As the path is getting steeper and steeper, the treacherous ground is giving way under my feet. Finally I get on all four paws to have extra insurance against sliding back all the way. Probably I could have made to the crater despite my insufficient gear, but I’m not keen on slipping and cutting my hands on the sharp edges of the slag. Clinging to the slope I rest for a few minutes to take in the views across the lava field below, then I return to safer grounds and to the car.
View from the slope of the Navidad crater
Past the last mirador, the he road narrows to begin a steep, rocky, winding descent towards the mighty lava field below. I’m amazed by the play of colors, shadows and surface structures surrounding me…
Apparently the lava was too thick to fill the valley straight from wall to wall like water would do. All the way down there is a narrow gap between the steep, 30 to 40 meter-high margin of the lava stream and the equally steep slope of the mountains bordering the valley. At the bottom of this crevice, the road is following the margin of the lava stream all the way to the front where the destructive flow finally came to a definitive halt. Generally very narrow, the gap is widening on occasion, leaving room for small patches of grass feeding a handful of cows or for little ponds of crystal-clear water shimmering in intense shades of turquoise and emerald.
The front line of destruction
A little further down the valley, the road is passing through privately clearly marked by closed gates that need to be opened and closed by passers through. This section of the road isn’t in the greatest of shapes, but thanks to the dry conditions it’s passable just fine. However, I wouldn’t want to try this circuit without all wheel drive after a heavy rainfall, let alone during winter time.
This is cow country!
The road…
The tiny hamlet of Casa Loico is the first human settlement on the entire trajectory. From there it’s a steep up and down along the shores of the artificial Ralco lake until the road is crossing the Bio Bio river over a new concrete bridge. Past the bridge the road is joined by the track coming from Nitrito, the place I couldn’t to reach yesterday via the Bio Bio valley from Ralco. At the crossroads I pick up a farmer from Nitrito on his way to Troyo for some shopping and official business. Born and raised in Nitrito, he is now one of only four remaining inhabitants. As a child he went to school in Troyo, staying there all week and walking five hours each way on Friday and Sunday to spend the weekends at home with his parents in Nitrito. Once again he confirms to me that my car would not have passed the road from Chenqueco to Nitrito. Even if I had somehow mastered the steep inclines, I wouldn’t have made it through the knee-deep water of the river crossing.
Near Casa Loico
Ralco lake near Casa Loico
Bio Bio valley near Troyo
From Troyo I continue to follow the Bio Bio river sometimes closely, sometimes from high above, until I reach the mountain town of Lonquimay – just in time for the beginning of the town’s biggest event of annual event. The three-day fiesta del asado de chivo is featuring roasted goat, locally crafted beers and local popular music. The town is packed, but I still find a decent, moderately priced single room in a hotel right down the road from where the action seems to be. You may guess what I had for dinner… 😉
Feb 15, 2015
Lonquimay – Playa Negra (Lake Caburgua)
Smoke is rising from the main square of Lonquimay into the blue morning sky as about 50 barbecues are being fired up and legions of goats are being prepared for the big roast. The first beer stands are already open. I wonder if the drunken guy being escorted off the square by two policemen was an early starter or a holdout from last night.
Fiesta del asado del chivo, Lonquimay
Fiesta del asado del chivo, Lonquimay
I already had my share of delicious goat meat last night and resist the temptation to stick around for yet another helping. I follow Route 181 out of town for a few kilometers, then turn Southeast onto the gravel road towards Laguna GalletuéAlong the way I notice a gradual change of vegetation, indicating my proximity the drier climate East of the main cordillera.
It’s warm and sunny and I can’t wait to go for a swim in the lake, but apparently the only access to the water is by paying the fee for one of agro-campings set up by the farmers owning the land along the shore. Almost 10 US$ (charge per vehicle per day, regardless of the length of stay and the number of people) appear a little stiff for a quick dip in the water…
Laguna Galletué
Laguna Galletué and Llaima volcano
I have more luck on the shore of Lake Icalma, where I find a nice and accessible beach, only to be shared with two sheep quietly grazing right next to me.
My private beach, Lago Icalma
Refreshed and batteries re-charged, I continue to Lake Colico via Mellipeuco and Cunco. It’s time to find a spot for the night, but the camping at Puerto Puma is packed. I follow the winding gravel road to the northern tip of to Lake Caburgua, but the camping there is just as overcrowded. I am all the more surprised to find an amazing spot only a few kilometers down the road. >Through the meadows of a wide valley, a river is meandering calmly towards the lake, its waters blinking in the evening sun. A few cows are grazing between a handful of tents and cars scattered across the grass land near the dark sands of the lake shore. I’m looking for signs prohibiting camping, fishing, swimming… but there are none! Even more surprising is the relative absence of empty beer cans, plastic bottles and other signs of human abuse. Feels like paradise!
Camping in the wild, Lake Caburgua
Camping in the wild, Lake Caburgua
Camping in the wild, Lake Caburgua
The abundance of dry driftwood all over the place is yet another sign of a surprisingly low frequency of visitors in this beautiful spot. Soon I have nice camp fire going next to my tent. I open a bottle of wine and begin to prepare the tenderloin tip, the potatoes and the vegetables I have bought on the way. For lack of a grill I have to put the meat on a stick – not ideal, but it turns out quite edible!
Tenderloin on a stick… a little tricky, but it worked!
I offer a share of my wine to the couple of backpackers having a frugal snack in front of their tent nearby. Later on the guy joins me at my fire for a nightcap and an interesting chat about philosophy and religion. Marco, 31, is teaching philosophy to Chilean high school kids. Makes me wonder how many countries are offering offer philosophy lessons at their public high schools…
Feb 16, 2014
Lake Caburgua – Pucón
Right next to my spot: The vacation home of Michelle Bachelet, currently president of Chile 🙂
In the morning I give Marco and his girl friend Nicole a ride to Termas de San Sebastian, located about 20 km from the lake. Facing each other on the opposite banks of a mountain creek, two sites compete for the limited number of day and overnight guests, offering simple thermal pools and accommodation on their campgrounds or in cabañas. Marco and Nicole decide to stay here for at least one night, I move on after take a relaxing, hour-long bath in the only freely accessible thermal pool.
Marco and Nicole, Termas de San Sebastian
Termas de San Sebastian
On the next 80 km I give short rides to several villagers waiting for the only daily bus connecting the villages of the valley with each other and with the town of Curraruehe.
On the way to Curraruehe
In Currarehue I return to asphalt for the remaining few kilometers to Pucón. After so many days in the relative solitude of the mountains, this humming tourist hub appears even less appealing to me than during my first brief visit in December. I feel like heading straight back into the mountains! But wait: At least this return to civilization means I have a cell phone signal. Time to call Silviu, the Romanian biker I met in January while he was traveling with his girl friend Crina (see post http://wp.me/p49gr4-9J). All I know from our sporadic communications on Facebook is a Chilean cell phone number and that he is touring around somewhere in Southern Chile (meanwhile without Crina, who had to return to her job in Romania). But who would have thought that he’s right around the corner – on a camp site right here in Pucón! Only a few minutes later I meet Silviu “live” at the camping. He introduces me to his tent neighbors who are also meeting him here for the second time on their trip. Small world!
Paul and Marlieke left the Netherlands two years ago on two Yamaha XT 600 bikes. Via Turkey, Iran, Pakistan, India they went all the way to Southeast Asia, then shipped their two Yamaha XT 600 to North America to ride from there to Tierra del Fuego. If you’d like to know more about their travels, check out their blog: http://www.worldwander.nl . You should, they write much better than I do!
The four of us take a stroll to town for afternoon coffee and kuchen and return to our tents with plenty of supplies for an opulent barbecue. Lots of stuff to talk about, lots of stories to tell as we are munching our steak, chicken, vegetable skewers, duly rinsed down with copious amounts of Chilean red. Cheers!
Silviu and Paul, Pucón
Feb 17, 2014
Pucón – Valdivia
Unlike me, my companions don’t seem to be bothered by the early morning concert of the united stray dogs, roosters and bandurrias (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Black-faced_Ibis ) of Pucón and vicinity. Silviu is the first one to stick his head of his tent around 10 AM, followed shortly by the Dutch faction of the party. Only towards the end of our late breakfast the sun finally breaks the chilling grip of the fog that’s been hovering above the lake all morning.
Breakfast in Pucón
Leaving Pucón, I’m heading back towards Curraruehe to the road connecting Route 215 with Coñaripe on Lake Calaufquén. The first 20 kilometers are what’s shown on the map, but then the passable gravel road suddenly turns into an atrocious track of rocks and dirt that would be a challenge even for a pure-bred off-road vehicle. “Road not passable on the next 9 kilometers” says a sign right there. The little German in me is upset: Wouldn’t it make much more sense to post a warning at the beginning of the road and save people from making a 40-kilometer detour for nothing? To no avail: I have to return all the way to Pucón to continue from there. My misfortune is the luck of the two backpackers I pick up near Pucón: I’ll take them all the way to their destination Valdivia.
Upon arrival in Valdivia, the promenade along the fjord is crowded with people and cars. The annual carnival-like festival of town is underway, with street parades, street music and cultural activities. Nonetheless I have no trouble finding accommodation a few blocks from the city center at quiet and pleasant Hotel Kolping.
Valdivia
In the evening I take the 15-minute walk to the town’s small pedestrian zone to have dinner at an outdoor table of one of Valdivia’s traditional seafood restaurants, entertained myself with people watching and listening to the drums of a Chilean percussion band performing Brazilian batucadas in the street.
Feb 18, 2014
Valdivia
I’m taking it slow today, staying in the hotel for most of the day sleeping, writing and catching up on my e-mail. Not much to report.
Feb 19, 2014
Valdivia – Petrohué
After a pleasant morning stroll around the city center of I’m leaving Valdivia to the South, direction Osorno. The second package with the remaining parts for my bike is supposed to arrive at the BMW shop today and I want to make sure the repair work is done as soon as possible.
Valdivia
Valdivia
Checking out the sub…
Museum submarine
Nonetheless there is enough time for a detour to Corral. Located on the Southern bank of the Valdivia fjord near its opening to the ocean, this historic town used to be the main port and commercial center of the region until the 10-meter high tsunami wave of the 1960 sea quake decimated its population and destroyed many of its buildings and port installations.
To Corral
To Corral
Corral
In the old fort overlooking the town and the fjord, students dressed up as soldiers from the independence wars in explain the history of the place to the tourists. The fort was part of a system of 17 fortifications and lookouts set up by the Spanish on the banks of the bay and the adjacent coast line. Designed to prevent and counter attacks from the sea, the system was very effective at keeping pirates and enemies from entering the bay to loot the gold washing sites further upstream.
View of Niebla from Corral
The Spanish fort in Corral. The 1960 tsunami reached the top of these walls
However, the fort fort had little protection against attacks from land – all 22 cannons were pointing to the bay. During the Chilean independence war it took the troops of Lord Cochrane and Bernardo O’Higgins only a few minutes to overrun the fort in a surprise night attack on foot.
As I’m leaving the fort, I run into Pancho and Cristal, my travel companions from a week ago. Small world! We chat for a while and take a picture before they enter the fort to take the tour.
Small world! Cristal and Pancho, Corral
Fed with a pastel de jaiva at one of the seafood restaurants on the ocean front, I continue via La Union to the BMW shop in Osorno. To my pleasant surprise, head mechanic Jaime is already working on my bike, promising me to have it ready for pick up tomorrow afternoon.
Working on it!
It’s only early afternoon, plenty of time to find a nice place to stay somewhere on a lake or in the mountains. On my way East towards Lake Llanquihue I pick up Sergio and Frank, two young backpackers from Santiago. They want to stay the night on a camp site in Petrohué, a popular backpackers destination on a lake at the foot of the Osorno volcano. Good idea, I might as well take them there!
Osorno volcano
Osorno to Petrohué
The 18-km road from Ensenada ends where the Petrohué river leaves the lake. I expected a town, but there is only a fancy lodge, large parking lots for cars and tour buses and the landing of a passenger boat taking tourists to and from Peulla on the Eastern end of the lake. I park the car, grab my essential camping stuff and join Sergio and Frank on one of the small boats offering ferry services to one of the camp sites located across the river.
Crossing River Petrohué to the camp site
Petrohué
We set up our tents close to the river, with snow-capped Osorno volcano towering above us in direct sight. Around us a good 60 or 70 small tents, mostly backpacker in their 20s and 30s. Smoke is arising from dozens of campfires, the sounds of guitars mixing with the chatter and laughter. The horse, the cow, the pig and the chicken roaming freely between the tents don’t seem to be bothered…
Upon invitation of our tent neighbors Javier and Cote, we share campfire, food and drinks among the five of us. Later at night we all get invited to join the birthday party going on at a huge fire a few tents over. I finally hit my mattress around 2 AM, falling asleep immediately in spite of the ongoing party noise.
Camp fire, Petrohué
The party’s on!
Feb 20, 2014
Petrohué – Entre Lagos
In contrast to everyone else in the party camp, Sergio, Frank, Javier and Cote are up quite early. The four want to get a ride with me to the Petrohué waterfalls. Not sure how the five of us plus luggage will fit in the car, but we can try…
A quiet morning at the party camp
An unpleasant surprise is awaiting at the car: The windshield is cracked, probably hit by a stone flipped up by a passing vehicle.
We actually do manage to squeeze everyone and everything into the tiny VW Gol, it’s not exactly comfortable, but OK for the few kilometers to the falls.
Petrohué falls
Petrohué falls
As we return from the falls to the car there’s yet another bad surprise: The left rear tire is flat, courtesy of a big fat nail stuck in the thread. What the f…! On the very last day I’m using this car! The kids help me to put the spare tire on. Sergio and Frank get off in Ensenada, Javier and Cote continue with me to Puerto Varas. Prior to returning the car I manage to get the tire fixed for little money, but I’m not looking forward to the charge for the windshield…
The bus to Osorno is almost an hour late, I make it to the BMW shop just before closing time. One month and one day after my crash, I’m finally getting my bike back.
Finally!
On the short ride from Osorno to Entre Lagos I realize how much I’ve been waiting for this moment. It sure does feel good to be on two wheels again!!!
SOUTHBOUND! 
Wow. Love Bio Bio.
Eric Tomlinson
>
Hi, good post…
I like to post part o this in my blog enlonquimay.com
cant I do it?
(excuse my bad english…)
Saludos
Sin problema! Adelante…
Saludos,
Michael