I get lost, buy ticket for a prop plane and drink

I get up early as I have a busy day.  I need to buy a ticket out of here (Ushuaia is cool but you can get stuck here for like a week pretty easily since transportation is somewhat scarce) and do a trek up to Martial Glacier.  I buy a plane ticket to Calafate as I don't really want to take another long bus ride and accumulate 4 more stamps along the way.  Not only that but the plane ticket is about as cheap as the bus ticket.  I'm going to fly with some company called LADE and they only fly on Mondays but the price is right, around $70.  The price should be right since the plane is a prop plane and I think it's ex military that's been rusting away since WWII.  I can't believe this fucker is going to fly with propellers, I mean how anachronistic is that.  That would be like typing a report on a typewriter, or listening to a music tape or worse yet an 8 track, or like watching Dallas while eating a microwave dinner on a fold out tray in the living room while sitting on a couch with a floral design or drinking Billy beer or listening to Jefferson Airplane while twirling around in a circle or playing with a Lite Brite or micro machines, you get the drift. 

Derelict ship just chilling in Beagle Channel

Ok, next activity, I need to trek up to Martial Glacier which supposedly supplies a kick ass view of the Beagle Channel.  I start trekking and I'm not positive that I am going the right way but I run into a dude from Spain with a map and he tells me we are on the correct path which is encouraging but ultimately false.  I walk much faster than he does so I lose him in about 5 minutes and about 30 minutes after that I come walking up behind him.  What the Fuck!  It's like the faster I go the less I accomplish, sort of like with sex.  Did I just enter another time warp to the past?  I seem to do this alot.  I talk to him again and this time he tells me we are on the wrong path but he's going to take it anyways because he doesn't want to backtrack.  As much as I hate the idea of backtracking I decide to do it since I really don't feel like walking in a huge flat circle which apparently is all this particular path offers (I don't need to walk around in circles, walk around in circles...........great song, but seriously the rest of that album by Soul Coughing sucks and they should refund my money).  I run into an Isreali on the way back and he is on the wrong path as well (I think it's in Isreali's culture to get lost stemming from the whole 40 years thing in the desert).  Good, I'm not the only dumbass around here which alleviates any harsh feelings I was starting to develop towards my brain. We finally find the right path and we walk on peatlands and it's oddly comforting as the ground is squishy with all these bumps about 6 inches high, it's like walking on a bunch of C cup sized titties (or according to Andy, bags of sand).  We finally start the climb and it's steep as hell and it sucks shit but we finally make it to the top and we have lunch.  The Isreali dude (I forget his name) gives me a sandwich because he feels bad for me as all I have is a package with meat in it and no bread which is fine with me as I eat meat out of a package all the time (wow, that is the gayest thing I probably have ever written).  Even when I am home I will stop by the supermarket and just buy a package of deli meat and eat it.  I must admit though, his sandwich was phenomenal, bread, meat, cheese, lettuce and tomatoes.  Good shit.  We chill up there for a bit and I actually take a picture or two.  The best part about this whole fiascal is the fact that on the way down we get to slide down on the glacier.  It's not that big but still supplies some pretty good entertainment.  I simply slide down it standing up with one foot sort of out in front of the other to be used as a makeshift brake.  I get moving pretty fast though and I get extremely lucky that I don't completely fuck myself up when I get to the end of it as I almost didn't stop in time before running into some rather jagged rocks. 

Martial Glacier

I finally take a shower when I get back to the hostel.  It has been 58 hours since my last shower and this is now a new personal record for me.  I'm fairly proud of it.  Some club promoter shows up and when I tell him I am from Chicago he's like "Oh, where house was invented".  I couldn't believe that some dude in fucking Ushuaia knew that house music was invented in Chicago.  I was completely amazed and I told him so.  I hit up some Irish bar (funny, no matter where you are in the world, you can always find an Irish bar (double funny, a lot of Irish bars in SA don't actually serve Guiness or Harp or any other European beer)) and I order Beagle beer which is awesome shit and I want to steal the glass that says Beagle Channel Beer on it but I just don't have room in my pack for it sadly enough.  I end up hanging out with this couple from Seattle and this dude from Michigan who looks and sort of acts like Eminem.  Em and I hit up the club the one dude from earlier was promoting at 3am and it is completely dead.  We nab a drink and in half n hour the place is packed.  Odd.  Thing about Ushuaia, if you are looking for hot chicks you are going to have a bad night out.  I see this one chick dancing and she has the longest arms I have ever seen (she would be great shot blocker in the WNBA).  She looks like a gorilla when she dances and I wish I could put in a request for Hakuna Matata.  We end up talking to two chicks from BA but they look like a couple of mongoloids with a penchant for being about as cute as one of those Japs after the atomic bomb fell on em.  This place struggles.  I shouldn't even be here.  I mean, if you want to party, take your ass to Brazil or BA not Ushuaia.  You come here for the experience and to sight see and shit, not party.  But Em just broke up with his chick of 1.5 years and he sort of needs me here to help his sorry ass out.  He has a bunch of internal conflicts going on that I can't really deal with.  He keeps wanting to talk to chicks but he says he doesn't know how since he has been out of the game for so long.  I tell him he speaks fucking fluent Spanish, he should have no trouble striking up a conversation.  Too be honest, there are only two chicks I would even think about hooking up with here.  One is fucking gorgeous but she is with some dude and the other one looks like a hooker.  So, what are my options besides trying to build Em's confidence back up.  He wants me to go talk to these two chicks at the bar which I do and they are Isreali (go figure) and the one is hammered like a nail.  I try to pawn the drunk one off on Em but I don't think she digs him.  At the end of the night her friend comes up to me as I am getting ready to leave and tells me to take care of her.  What, I didn't sign up for this shit, I have a lot of crap to do tomorrow, it's 6am and the last thing I need to do is worry about this bitch all night, I mean sure, it would be an easy stab, but some stabs just aren't worth it.  This wasted ass bitch ain't coming back with me (I don't say this outloud, what I do say, is yeah, don't worry about it, and then I run away).  Maybe Em will end up hooking up with her

Me with Beagle Channel in background

I am actually a bit pissed at myself on the walk home.  It's 6am, I'm not wasted but I'm not completely sober either and I have a lot to see in the next two days.  I can party anywhere but I only have one chance to experience this place and everything it has to offer.  I set my alarm for 9am and I tell myself no matter how tired or shitty I feel, I'm getting up at 9 not only because I have shit to do but as punishment for my behavoir.  I have suddenly become an ascetic. 

Fin

Ushuaia with mountain range in backdrop

View of Beagle Channel