From left: Marito Zanoni, one of the gauchos, prepares for the day’s ride; the cosy Jakotango Base Camp is the place to relax after a long day in the saddle 86 DEPARTURES spirit and infectious passion. “He was like a hermit. He lived on his own in this tiny little farmhouse, and all he had was a dog and a couple of horses. He was a humble man, and what I admired about him was that he took his job with so much honour. He had this posture when he was on the horse, so proud of his job. You could see in his face that he had this whole bible of stories written in every wrinkle, burnt by the sun and the wind and the cold. And he just knew how to survive, and I thought to myself, ‘I want to be like this’.” Morning comes fast, starting with a mug of black coffee boiled on a wood-burning stove. The horses emerge with impeccable manes, as if preparing for a Buenos Aires polo match. Rough weather approaches, and soon the dust kicked up by their hooves is whipped away by a fierce gale. The temperature drops startlingly on another spectacular pass where there is nowhere to hide. “Even in this howling wind,” Jakob says, “I feel content. Not needing to be anywhere else gives you peace of mind.” Soon, however, the criollos are zigzagging through a moss-topped cathedral of towering coihue trees. A hearty sandwich is served with wine, followed by a siesta for the horses, who are released from their saddles while the riders look for a spot to lie down on their recados and digest both lunch and the views they saw in the morning. To wake up again, there is an icy bath in an emerald lake, and then the final ride begins. The road back to civilisation leads through a mossy forest to the shore of Lake Traful, where the barn of a thirdgeneration settler family has been converted into comfortable sleeping quarters. Here, a gaucho named Felipe, his wife Laura and their daughter live in isolation, reachable only by boat or on horseback, surrounded by the coihues, whose canopy shatters the dim light into pieces. Arriving here and savouring memories of the roasted lamb, the hulking volcanoes, the companionship of the criollos and the meditative silence of base camp, the feeling of accomplishment and inner peace is overwhelming. “No hour of life is wasted that is spent in the saddle,” Winston Churchill said. Indeed, four legs are better than two. jakotango.com PLEASE CHECK THE LATEST GOVERNMENT ADVICE BEFORE BOOKING TRAVEL OR DEPARTING ON ANY TRIP
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