Filling In Some Gaps

Admittedly, we don't always have perfect memories and there are some things that might have slipped our minds while writing the last entry, so let me go back and include some interesting details.

First, the plane ride. Normally, plane rides are boring, especially in Chile, where they aren't kept in the greatest condition on the inside, but our plane ride down to Punta Arenas was event-packed. First of all, we had bought a camping stove a couple weeks prior to our trip so that we would be able to carry in, cook, and eat our own hot, delicious food while camping in the park. Naturally, you always need to test your stuff before taking it on a trip, so Erin and I made sure to do this with the stove. Unfortunately, we opted to test it with kerosene. The fuel itself works just fine, but unlike white gas (which is preferable, and harder to find where we were), it leaves a heavy residue on everything and stinks of gas long after all of the carbon has been burned out of it. We cleaned the stove as indicated in the instructions, but on arrival to the airport made the mistake of asking if it was okay (the thought being that it would be better not to have them think we were trying to sneak stuff on). Mistake. Smelling our stove, this guy tells us he can't let it go on. We protest that it's completely clean. I toss in the phrase, "couldn't light it on fire if I tried." None of this worked, so we begged permission to try and clean it before our flight left. After one failed attempt, Erin begged cleaning supplies off a janitor and we spent an hour in the bathroom, furiously cleaning. Two or three of the airport cleaning people hung around offering helpful advice and suggestions while we both did our best to coat all the equipment with a soap smell in the men´s bathroom. Arriving at the desk again literally minutes before our flight was supposed to leave, we found no one there to check the stove. Rather than repeat our original mistake of asking, we quickly checked the bag and ran to the gate arriving just as they were paging us over the intercom. So that you don't worry, I'll tell you in advance, all our baggage got to Punta Arenas okay. I'll also say that at security they very amiably allowed Erin to go through with a lighter, which not only smelled like fuel but visibly contained more fuel than the stove ever possibly could have and which I had earlier tampered with so that it could produce a flame easily three inches tall.

When we got on the plane, which had been very nicely waiting for us, we discovered that the entire Colo Colo soccer team was on board. This means nothing to you uneducated, unenlightened gringos, but it's the Chilean equivalent of sharing a plane with Peyton Manning and the Colts. Everyone on board was visibly excited. People with cameras were walking around taking pictures; parents were getting their kids to go ask for autographs; people were touching these guys just to do it. Erin joined right in, despite the fact that she didn't know a single one's name, couldn't pick them out of a crowd, and doesn't know the rules of soccer. What she did know: "They're so hot. Look at their tight little soccer bodies." When we arrived at the airport, we stepped off the plane and immediately heard the Colo Colo fans chanting and singing. There was a huge crowd of people waiting for them to arrive, none of whom could get inside the security area, so while we all waited for baggage we had unfettered access to their fame and "hot bodies." Erin even got photos with some of the most famous players, who were only identifiable to us because people screamed and swooned a little more than normal when they went anywhere. That was our brush with fame.

Here´s Erin with two of the Colo Colo dudes.

Erin with Suazo (who is supposedly super good, one of the best in Lat. Am.) and some other dude.Here is a real photo of Suazo in a real game, just so you know we´re not making all of this up.

In other news, we're engaged. If we were Chilean, this would be second in importance only to the fact that we rode on an airplane with the Colo Colo soccer team. Since we're not, I guess it's the best thing going for us right now. Erin likes telling this story more than she likes me, but I'm going to steal her thunder anyway. I asked her in Torres del Paine, in Valle del Frances. I'm not sure how I feel about the whole thing being eternally linked with France, but it is what it is and there's no denying it was pretty. This was not my initial plan. I was planning to ask her, but not until we reached Las Torres on the sixth day, so I didn't even bother to take the ring I'd bought over Christmas up with me. We hiked to the overlook, and as previously mentioned I also convinced Erin to hike a little farther to the ridge, which was a little too steep and windy, leading to her being angry with me by the time we got to the bottom. Undetered, I suggested we hang out at the overlook for a bit, which was amazingly pretty. It wasn't windy and the sun was out, but somehow it was still snowing little flurries. At any rate, deciding this was probably going to be one of the most peaceful, perfect moments of life, I asked her without really thinking about it. Erin likes to elaborate, embellish, and generally tell more details than could have possibly been squeezed into a couple seconds, but if you'd like to hear them, ask her. She said yes (or something along those lines; that was the jist of it, as I recall).

No more pictures today. You´ll have to wait for the rest.