Throughout all the traveling that I have been doing these last weeks visiting all of these gorgeous fishing lodges, I am amazed at the continuity that the guest create between eachother. I would compare it to something along the lines of summer camp. A summer camp for adults. I think it is in places like the Maria Behety where people come to blossom into to their true selves again. Oh sure many of them live happy lives with well to do jobs, but it is here where they get to be a kid again. Playing with their new found friends, laughing at eachothers stories and sharing in the enjoyment of fishing. It’s as if the fishing part is a catalyst for freeing their minds of the stress of daily life.

As a kid, my parents were quick to socialize me with adults. Throughout my life I have been very comfortable doing it. More importantly, I thought I had seen it all. Only it was from a certain perspective. It was during time here that I observed baby boomers reconnect with their youth, flirting and acting as if they were sixteen again. I had to laugh at it all. Call me ignorant.

It got me thinking about the concept of aging. At the ripe age of twenty-five I realized that as time goes by the kid in you really never leaves you. Perhaps it just gets buried under the weigh of the work, kids, jobs, bills and the rest of daily life. That getting old is more a mindset and not a number. How nice that there are those that can unearth it with perfect strangers at the bottom of the world with a fly rod in hand.

To say the the Maria Behety Estancia is sitting pretty successwise is a huge understatement. The Menendez family was one of the first families to stake a claim in the barrien land of fire back in the mid 1850’s. At one point Alejandro’s family owned almost all of the Tierra del Fuego. Over the years plots of land were sold off and now they sit comfortably with more than 100,000 acres of prestine grazing land and an entire side of the best sea run brown trout fishery The Rio Grande. The goods don’t stop there. Upon this vast stretch of real estate, they boast the largest sheep sheering operation in the world with over 40,000 sheep and a couple thousand head of Argentina cattle.

We have our food covered.

Being in such a remote place as TDF the MB Estancia, which by the way is broken up into two fishing lodges, ranch offices, gaucho houses, barns, worker housing, a church, and numerous other buildings- must run off diesel generators. Convieniently, the estancia sits on a huge gas reserve underground where they drill for their own fuel.

No gas costs.

So what you’re left with is an almost totally off the grid five star ranching/fishing operation that caters to the upper class of North America and European society.

All profit.

Luckly, the guest reap the benefits of an amazing fishing experience. -M

The more north you stray from the fishing port of Ushuaia, the geography of the land dramatically changes. The mountain peaks smooth out to rolling tundra, the lush evergreen canopy turns to grasslands and for someone that wasn´t looking more carefully they might get the impression of it being a wasteland of no importance. It is only when you get in close for another look that the Land of Fire truely grabs you opens your eyes to its wonder. Llama like creatures (actually related to the camel family) called Guanacos roam the plains and can often be spotted like a lookout sentinels at their post on a distant hillside. Curious gray foxes come in closer for a view while Ibus, Flamingos, and condors spy from above. It is a land unique all to itself.

I am alive and well and having an absolute blast at the end of the world. The unfortunate realities of being in such a remote and magical place is that it lacks reliable internet service. This is the reason that I have been unable to post anything for the last week or so. I will be in the sticks for one more week then I will be able to update and catch back up with my daily postings. I promise to bring the blog up to speed soon. Tight lines, -M

So. Yeah pretty gross pictures. After a two week bout with stubborness, I gave into my discomfort and went into the hospital to have surgery on a really bad in-grown toenail. It is a very different experience getting health care in a foreign country. My initial visit to the ¨hospital¨ across the street from the hostel turned out just to be a place where a doctor looks at your symptoms. It was a little frustration, because I obivious knew that I needed to have surgery on it (having already had the procedure done on my other toe). So you see the first guy and he charges you 70 pesos to confirm what you already know.

I have an unfortunate bad habit of saving things till the last minute and this was no exception. At 4 pm I walked in hoping to have this surgery when I had a flight out of town the following morning. Luckily for me the guy makes some phone calls to a specialist and he precedes to inform me that the main hospital can get me in if I get to them within 15 minutes. It turns out that this hospital is 40 blocks away on the other side of the city. Ready GO!!!

Rush mode kicks in. I have to hail a cab but I have no cash on me and there is no bank in sight. With no other choice I took to jogging in the direction of the hospital. Long story short, I found a bank, was able to hail a cab, and convince the driver to drive like the wind. Argentina drivers regularly drive like a bat out of hell (completely ignoring lanes markers, other cars, people and even speed limits) and when I showed him the doctor´s note, he took it upon himself to push the limits of his small Volkswagon engine.

After almost getting clipped by a bus and dangerously coming close to nicking a couple pedestrians, we skidded to a halt outside the main hospital emergency room with just minutes until my appointment.

This is where the slight differences in patient privacy between the States and Argentina differ. I am on the cutting board and the young doctor is injecting my toe with novacaine. Then the next thing I know, my one on one patient doctor visit becomes a cafeteria and observatory room for all the rest of the doctors pointing, laughing and staring in disbelief at my infected toe. Don´t mind me. So with the peanut gallery taking a snack break around me my doctor regains his composure, forgoes waiting on the drugs to take full effect, grabs a pair of pliers and rips free a quarter of my nail out from my skin down to the root. Once that is done and to my uncomfortable belief he then cuts it right off. I suppose that is one way of doing it.

In all it was a relief to have it over and done with and I can rest assure that I woun´t have further problems with my feet. The best part is that I was able to have it done for the fraction of the cost of what it would cost in the states. Bandaged and feeling better. -M

For the next month of our trip, Eric and I have decided to separate for a little bit. I am headed down to Ushuaia to fish the Rio Grande while Eric and Taryn are headed north to Rio in Brazil for Carnevale. Afterwards they will be taking a two week spanish class in Bariloche and I will make my way into Chile. Although I am bummed to not be going with them, other opportunities lie at the bottom of the world for me. We´ll meet back up in Chile soon enough.

Everybody…this is Taryn. Taryn is a good buddy of my brother Eric. The two of them worked together in Crater Lake, OR fighting fires for the forest service. She´s great. I think Eric and I both agree that having a female traveling companion will be a great element to our trip. Already having her around brings new light to finding out random tidbits of knowledge that I never thought I´d ever find out about my brother. One of the highlight that she brought to my attention is a nickname that he gained while fighting fires. Eric Greener a.k.a ¨Hotpants¨. Long story short it came about when he was trying to dry off his wet pants by a fire and then before he could realize it, his pants heated up to the point of burning his holy parts. The name stuck and as a loving brother I feel compelled to share this secret.

Eric and I returned to the belly of the beast and met up with a firefighting buddy of his named Taryn. She´s a really fun chica who laughs loud and full with her entire being and I think she will be a great addition for the next couple months of our trip. Our second time around in the country´s capital was a lot less daunting than the first. I think once you get past that intitial shock, things usually go a lot smoother. Now that we both had a little better grasp on the language and our bearings, we had a rejuvinated excitement about the place. We met up with Taryn at this great hostel called the El Sol right in the heart of the city. Were the first time in BA we were staying 45 minutes away in Tigre, this time we were in a third story hostel where the amount of people coming in and out increased dramatically. One of the benefits to this is a constant stream of information about things going on every night and numerous invitations to join people on their planned outings. This night we followed some friends out to a great tapas restaurant and then out for an evening of Tango dancing at a local hangout.

The Argentinean tango is known for being a beacon and great symbol of the local culture and, not surprisingly, it was the dance the Greener boys failed miserably at. This is not the kind of dance where you can´t just wing it like a box step. We arrived to watch the locals young and old make their way across the worn, wooded floor in the ellegance and grace that obviously took years of practice to perfect. The dance itself is lead by the man and he literally stears and suggests each movement to his partner and then she reacts off that. It is a beautiful union to watch on the dance floor. But being beginners in a sea of pros left us mostly on the sidelines to sip beer and study. I was intrigued to learn more about it.

in which you fill with money. It is a verse that my grandfather has on the wall of our cabin. When the four of us in the the rental car came across this small local port, this verse came to mind. Unfortunately in this case, the poor guy that owns this hole in the water has to figure out a way to savage what he can. At least the emergency floatation device can be reused.

The other day we left Esquel saying goodbye to Raul San Martin. We would be hard-pressed to find another guy like Raul. His kindness, generousity, humor and all around knowledge of fishing was incredible and we will be forever greatful towards him.