The Wind

Wind twisted tree

The wind is a mischievous entity, it can be both ally and foe, often at the same time.  A tailwind can be wonderful, but the force is sometimes so great that it pushes you like a bully's hands rather than the softer, supportive push of a parent helping a child ride a bike.  It forces you to consider it in all you do.  Clothing, camping, fire, photos, all are adjusted or deleted based on the wind.  Some days it's an unceasing force which dulls your ears and roughens your skin.  Other days it sleeps in and awakens late in the morning, blowing with renewed vigor.  And some days it observes the Sabbath.  I haven't figured it out.

Walked all day and the next day. The road straight, gray, dusty, and trafficless. The wind relentless, heading you off. Sometimes you heard a truck, you knew for certain it was a truck, but it was the wind. Or the noise of gears changing down, but that also was the wind. Sometimes the wind sounded like an unloaded truck banging over a bridge. Even if a truck had come up behind you wouldn't have heard it. And even if you'd been downwind, the wind would have drowned the engine.Bruce Chatwin's " In Patagonia "

Originally I had thought the sun would heat the pampas, causing the air to rise an suck in air from the coast, over the mountains.  Something similar to this happens daily in southern California and, when it occasionally reverses, the warm desert winds are called the Santa Annas.  I read that "a southerly blow indicates good weather is coming," but elsewhere that the "constant wind blows from the west."  Not exactly confidence building.

In these glacially carved valleys, you can hear the wind building up speed, rustling the trees, whipping the dust, as it moves closer.  You can see the water, dirt and debris that the wind picks up, building into a wall in front of you, giving the wind visible form.  You would watch it bear down on you.  If you're lucky, you've got a small knoll or hollow to hide in.  The wind moves too fast to invade such little refuges.  Otherwise, you stand exposed as it hits you, stinging with dirt and sand, soaking with water, a deafening rush that pushes you for a few moments and then leaves.

I tried to capture this on film (still camera, that is) in Los Cuernos.  I would hide behind some battered scrub bush until there was a lull.  ("Lull" here means that it would drop below, say, 30 mph.  Soft enough that I could hear the echo in my ears of the constant dulling rush.)  I would jump out into the exposed beach of Lago Nordensköld (guess what nationality named the features of these parts).  I was shooting into the low sun as it turned the swirling mass of dust and water a bright yellow.  Wait for the wave of wind to get bigger...  Wait for a more impressive shot...  Wait.  Wait.  Click and dive for cover.  I would turn my back to the wind and crouch around my camera, trying to replace the lens cap back on without falling on top of it.  My back would get soaked and pelted with dirt.

I've been visualizing the images I want to make: a tree bent and twisted by the constant assault; fields of grass that wave like the ocean (a longer exposure to try and emphasize the movement); dust of oncoming or outgoing cars blown sideways (would need low side-lighting to show as much of the dust as possible, leaving the car in the bottom corner of the frame).  I have all these ideas, but I fear that I don't have the time.

Perhaps this is the advantage to solo travel: no one else is going to want to stick around in a strong crosswind while I wait for the "right" truck to come down the Carretera.  For that matter, no guarantees that I'll want to stick around if I'm trying to ride through that crosswind!  If I hook up with Amy and Chip in Coyhaique, I'll probably split with them at Pumalin, which would let me ride Chiloe solo.  Come to think of it, I would like to have spent more time in Natales (more pre-visualized images of the amazing sunsets and the broken down pier).  It's hard not knowing what's ahead and, thus, being unable to determine where to spend more or less time.

With all this wind, I think I should take up sailing...