Finding the Forest For the (Monkey-Puzzle) Trees

New growth on an Araucaria branch, Parque Nacional Conguillío

In November of 1911, when John Muir climbed a ridge to camp among the “monkey-puzzle” forests of southern Chile, he marveled at “A glorious and novel sight, beyond all I had hoped for.” At the age 73, the legendary conservationist had sailed to South America, first exploring the Amazon and, after reaching Buenos Aires, he crossed the Andes in search of Araucaria araucana, the “monkey puzzle tree.”

Bark of a mature Araucaria tree

The present-day gateway to Fundo Ontario, where John Muir stayed in his search for the Araucaria

In Santiago—where even Juan Söhrens, director of the national botanical garden, had never seen the tree in the wild—Muir took a hint from a friend of the US ambassador and the train to the city of Victoria, just north of Temuco. Here, he made contact with the Smiths, a Canadian immigrant family, whose Fundo Ontario ranch was Muir’s gateway to the Andean foothills near what is today Parque Nacional Tolhuaca. It was here that sketched the forests and slept beneath the trees he’d come to observe—just as he did beneath the giant sequoias of California’s Sierra Nevada.

Parque Nacional Tolhuaca, with Araucaria trees in the right foreground and atop the ridge in the distance

Several times I’ve had the good fortune to see the area Muir visited, and several comparable areas on both sides of the Andes. The pewén, as it’s known in the indigenous Mapudungun language, has a narrow distribution between 37º20' and 40º20'S. In total, Araucaria forests cover less than 400 square kilometers, mostly in the Andean cordillera but with scattered stands in Chile’s coastal range.

A young ornamental Araucaria on the grounds of Oakland Technical High School

Where are the best places to see this distinctive tree, also known as the paraguas (umbrella tree)? It’s not uncommon as an ornamental—there’s one on the grounds of Oakland Technical High School, about five minutes from my California home—but Argentina and Chile are the Holy Grail. Following Muir’s trail toward Tolhuaca is one option, but access by public transportation is limited at best. Larger numbers see Parque Nacional Conguillío, to the southeast, which is more accessible from Temuco and the town of Melipeuco (though only by taxi).

A mature Araucaria forest at Parque Nacional Conguillío 

In terms of public transportation access, though, the best place to see the Araucariais the more southerly resort of Pucón. Two nearby national parks, Parque Nacional Villarrica and Parque Nacional Huerquehue, have frequent bus service. Personally, I prefer Huerquehue for easy access to hiking trails, dense pewén forests, and great panoramas that include the smoking, snow-topped Volcán Villarrica, which Spanish conquistador poet Alonso de Ercilla called the “great neighbor volcano.”

Araucarias on the Sendero Quinchol, Parque Nacional Huerquehue

On my most recent visit, though, I chose the Santuario Cañi, a private nature reserve that’s only 20 minutes out of town, and also easily accessible by public transport. I first hiked here in the 1990s as a guest of the non-profit Fundación Lahuén, on a sore ankle that caused me some difficulty. This time my joints were healthy, but the trail seemed even steeper than I remembered, and younger hikers were consistently passing me. At the end, though, I reached the plateau of Laguna Las Totoras, a marshy lake surrounded by monkey puzzle trees, but declined to climb to the El Mirador ridge. 

Hikers among the Araucarias in the Santuario Cañi

An Araucaria seedling has found growing space at Parque Nacional Nahuelbuta.

For my money, though, the best place to see the trees is Parque Nacional Nahuelbuta, in the coastal range near the city of Angol, where the trees even find growing spaces in cracks among its igneous outcrops. One of the best nights I ever spent was the campground here on Christmas Eve of 1998, when I had the entire park to myself. Nahuelbuta is scenic, with great hiking trails, but it doesn’t get many Chileans because it lacks water—there are no rivers or lakes suitable for swimming except outside park limits.

A panorama of the Araucaria forests at Parque Nacional Nahuelbuta

Along the trail at Argentina's Parque Nacional Lanín

I’ve barely mentioned Argentina, where the best site is Parque Nacional Lanín, across the Andes from Pucón, and easily reached from the cities of San Martín de los Andes and Junín de los Andes. It bears mention that the indigenous Pewenche—who take their name from the trees—gathered fallen forest nuts for their subsistence. I myself have eaten the toasted nuts and also consumed them in a pesto in a San Martín restaurant that is now, sadly, closed.

Pewén nuts on display at the Feria Masticar, an annual food fair in Buenos Aires

Home for the Holidays?

I’ve never been one for the “holidays,” and have normally worked through them – one of my greatest frustrations, on the road, has been the week of enforced inactivity between Xmas and New Year’s, when it’s difficult or impossible to accomplish much in updating my Moon Handbooks to Argentina, Buenos Aires, Chile and Patagonia. I’m always operating on deadline, with limited time to explore and revise my coverage of the cities, towns, parks and associated attractions in the countries I’ve grown so attached to, and the virtual loss of a week when it’s almost impossible to meet with anybody can be frustrating.

The best-case scenario, often, is to retreat to my room, which is easiest when I’m in Buenos Aires, glued to the computer in my own apartment. It’s also a risky time of the year in the Argentine capital, not because of high crime but rather because of uncontrolled fireworks that, during last night’s celebrations, led to 57 emergency room visits. It gets worse at New Year’s Eve, when the reckless airheads start tossing firecrackers from their balconies into the streets.

Alternatively, I’ll stay in a quiet Chilean town such as Villarrica, hoping to polish some of the work I’ve already accomplished. Perhaps the most memorable holiday I’ve spent  was December 24, 1998, when I was the only visitor in the campground at Chile’s Parque Nacional Nahuelbuta (pictured above), home to the largest coast range concentration of the pewen or monkey-puzzle tree (Araucaria araucana). That may have been the only place I’ve ever experienced the peace and calm that, ideally and often wrongly, so many people associate with this time of year.

This year, having returned from Buenos Aires about ten days ago, I’m passing the holiday period in the cool, damp winter of Northern California where, however, there’s one enduring reminder of Argentina. With the heavy rains of the past week, we’ve experienced an invasion of Argentine arts in the kitchen and, to a lesser extent, in the bathrooms. Argentines themselves may find it increasingly difficult to travel abroad because of foreign currency restrictions, but their native insect colonies are a permanent presence here.

Explaining the Looting

As Argentines continued to argue over the causes of the wave of looting that took place over the past several days, I concluded that “If you don’t know what’s going on, well, you’re not alone.” One far more astute observer than I has pointed out the difficulties of assigning blame or responsibility in Argentina’s byzantine street politics – the Argentine-born Chilean-American novelist and playwright Ariel Dorfman, in an interview with Argentina’s Ñ magazine, was asked the following question: “You have said that nobody has been able to explain Peronism to you in a reasonable manner. How would you explain it to a third party?”

Dorfman, whom I know slightly, gave the following response: “If I could explain that to a second party, or third, or a fourth, I might have written a best-seller about it.”

My Favorite Xmas Tree

With four Moon Handbooks on my platter - Argentina, Buenos Aires, Chile and Patagonia - every year I spend four to five months, sometimes more, on the road as I update them. Except in Buenos Aires, where I own an apartment, I rarely spend more than two or three consecutive nights in the same bed during that time. Most of my travels take place in the southern hemisphere spring and summer, when most visitor services are open, and new editions of my books appear prior to the following season. I often say, for purposes of clarity, that I leave California when the World Series ends and return for opening day.

That means I miss the northern hemisphere winter and spend the “holiday season” away from my family in California (though I occasionally spend it with my Argentine wife’s family in Buenos Aires province). In reality, though, being irreligious, I find this time of the year a distraction as my January/February deadlines approach. In particular, the dead week between Christmas and New Year’s can be a time when some tourist offices are closed and it’s otherwise difficult to do research. I do sometimes use that week to visit destinations such as Mar del Plata, the Buenos Aires province beach resort that becomes a zoo after the first of the year.

Nevertheless, it’s sometimes nice to kick back, in countries where the sight of a snow-flecked Christmas tree and decorations like Santa Claus’s sleigh seem grossly out of place in, say, the subtropical heat of Puerto Iguazú or even the early summer streets of Buenos Aires. One of my most memorable December 25th’s I passed in Chile’s Parque Nacional Nahuelbuta where, if there were no symmetrical boreal firs covered with colorful ornaments, there were forests of equally symmetrical austral Araucaria (monkey puzzle) trees with no need of ornaments. And I was literally the only person in the entire park.

Not an Xmas Tree

As a guidebook writer, traveling in the Southern Cone countries, I work seven days a week from breakfast to bedtime, and my most frustrating time of the year is the "holidays" between Christmas and New Year's, when the closure of tourist offices and other services make it harder to do my job. Last night in the Chilean city of Concepción, for instance, nearly all the restaurants were closed, and I had to settle for a mediocre Chinese dinner in a restaurant that won't make the new edition of Moon Handbooks Chile that I am presently researching. More often than not, for me, holidays are obstacles.

In reality, Concepción isn't much of an attraction in its own right, but I had to time my visit for Friday - a work day - to be able to consult with the regional office of Sernatur, the Chilean government tourism agency. I'd sooner be in another part of the region, such as Parque Nacional Nahuelbuta (pictured here), where I spent one of my most memorable Xmases - as the only visitor in a beautiful national park that's one of the few places where the Araucaria (monkey puzzle tree) survives in the Chilean coast range.

While I'll be glad when the "holidays" are over, I was nevertheless partly responsible for providing a big Xmas gift for Kirby Johnstone of Vancouver B.C. In the course of my September-October book tour to promote the new edition of Moon Handbooks Patagonia, Kirby attended my talk at the city's Travel Bug bookstore, and won the raffle drawing for a free round-trip ticket from Los Angeles to Santiago or Buenos Aires, courtesy of LAN Airlines.