The Cactus Trip Diaries

The last thing I would have expected happened as I woke up, at around 6 a.m. There was a strange, yet familiar, noise on the tent – RAIN! in Secret Valley! (S237) It was still raining – well, something between a light rain and heavy drizzle really – at 7:30 when a call of nature forced me to get up. Everything looked very different wet – amazing! I wonder when these hills and plants had last seen rain like this.

The drizzle also dampened our enthusiasm. We packed the wet tents and by 8:15 we were back in the Guanillos Valley (S238) for a second attempt to find Copiapoa laui at the familiar location where we had found it abundantly in 2001 and 2003. Again, Anne and I felt sure that we had the right place, confirmed by the GPS reading. Oxalis gigantea was still in flower but already coming into leaf – usually regarded as an indication that there had been some moisture a few days earlier. After an hour of searching, we finally had to admit that the plants had either gone, or, more likely, had become invisible. Perhaps they had become extremely shrunk and shrivelled after a long period of drought and were still waking up from the drought induced dormancy. I bet that as I write this report, the plants have swollen significantly and are either in bud or in flower. Graham Charles and Roger Ferryman are due to visit this area with members of the CaSS(US), and it will be interesting to hear / read what they found.

Next on the agenda was a drive through the Tigrillo Valley and a visit (S239) to the C. longistaminea that grow between the magnificent rocks, close to the Pacific Ocean. These rocks – a very course granite – have been weathered, probably blasted by sand storms and (some) water over many thousands of years.   
From here, we drove back inland, turned north and then west again, with a quick stop to take more pictures of the seemingly endless stand of Copiapoa columna-alba (S240) and back to the coast at Caleta La Madera (S241). It is strange how in the Tigrillo and La Madera Valleys, C. columna-alba are the dominant plants inland, with C. longistaminea as the dominant plant ‘on the beach’. Yet in the Guanillos Valley, C. longistaminea and C. grandiflora are the visually dominant Copiapao and further inland, at Secret Valley, C. columna-alba and C. longistaminea grow side by side. From time to time, both have been regarded as belonging to the Cinerea complex in the genus Copiapoa – with a fibrous root system rather than a thick tap root and (under favourable growing conditions) with a white waxed epidermis. I understand that it is unusual for closely related species to grow together without the occurrence of intermediate forms – natural hybrids. I do not recall having seen any or reading reports from others on this point – providing professional taxonomists with a bit of a head ache.

So far, we were covering the same territory as in 2003, but I was keen to extend the search farther north. Again we drove inland and north, again we met the endless stands of C. columna-alba, (S242), like pavements full of shoppers heading north. Again we turned west (S243), through a valley (Quebrada de Leoncito) still surrounded by C. columna-alba that thinned out as we finally reached the Ocean, through a narrow gorge. At the gorge (S244 & S245) we again found forms of C. longistaminea, but each time that this plant appears along the coast, there seems to be a distinct local form for each Quebrada. Knize had used the name (nomen nudum) Copiapoa tigrillensis for the plants at the mouth of the Quebrada Tigrillo.  In ‘Copiapoa in their environment’, Attila Kapitany and Rudolf Schulz mention Copiapoa sp. ‘Cifuncho’, that we visited in 2003 and that I believe to be the most northern form of this species.  We’d return to it again later on in the trip (11 October).

The weather had not really cleared up and we decided to head for the Cabañas at Caleta Hueso, our home in 2001 and 2003, just north of Taltal – happy that I had another Quebrada form of C. longistaminea to add to my list. So how many more should I schedule for future trips?  Well, the topographical maps indicate:

•    Bahia Ballenita

•    Punta Lavata

•    Caleta de Afuera (the location of ‘sp. Cifuncho’)

as the only named features before reaching Cifuncho. And with that thought in mind, I nodded off.

S244: Are these mainly single headed plants still C. longistaminea,
or C. taltalensis / rupstris or an intermediate?

There are several ways to get to (not so) ‘Secret Valley’ – a small Quebrada near Esmeralda, first used as a campsite by Attila Kapitany and Rudolf Schulz in 1994. It is marked with a GPS reference in their book ‘Copiapoa in their environment’. From Chañaral, the fastest route to this spot would be along the Pan Americana, until a turning onto a track due west.  But this would have taken us past several earlier turnings, sign posted for Parque Nacional Pan de Azucar and leading to a range of interesting Copiapoa taxa – hardly fair to Alain on his first trip out here.

And so we approached the usual (main) southern entrance of the National Park and stopped (S227) where some nice clumps of Copiapoa cinerascens grew on dark rocks, with the blue Pacific Ocean in the back ground – an ideal photo opportunity. The roads – yes, the term ‘track’ is no longer appropriate for these tarmac roads, with signs warning of dangerous bends and safety rails that prevent speeding motorists from taking a dip into the ocean – had been improved beyond recognition since June 2003. Great, as we were in a hurry, but a shame as the sense of exploration and adventure from previous trips became a fading memory.
We stopped (S228) at a site where in 2001 we had found a very healthy population (many plants of various ages, including small seedlings) of Copiapoa columna-alba, and were happy to find the plants in good shape.

On both previous trips, we had followed signs to El Mirador, but, soon after the sign post, had found a chain across the track, with a small car park near by, so that we had never travelled beyond this point. This time the chain was gone and we followed the track to a magnificent view point (S229) over the Pacific Ocean shoreline, from the sugar-loaf shaped island that gives the park its name, in the south, to the heights of Las Lomitas to the north. Huge shrubs of Euphorbia lactiflua were covered in flowers, while tall stands of Eulychnia breviflora (was E. saint-pieana) were in (very woolly) bud. The clumps of Copiapoa grandiflora looked less happy, as it seemed that tourists enjoying the views were in the habit of standing on the clumps. We also photographed an interesting Oxalis with relatively large flowers, compared with the weed that plagues UK cactus collections.

As we drove on, Anne and I recalled a spot where in 2003, Cliff Thompson, driving the lead car, had screeched to a halt as he had spotted a sizeable Eriosyce rodentiophila (E. megacarpa) in an otherwise lifeless landscape. We had recorded a GPS reading for the spot so I switched on the machine and we spotted the plant as the reading on the apparatus clicked to the reading taken 16 months earlier. Despite a more thorough look around this time, it remained the only cactus found here (S230).

The foxes at Las Lomitas (S231), a main attraction during previous visits, were out (gone shopping for more cream crackers?). The cloud (camanchaca) that is responsible for creating this fog-oasis in the desert, was just over our heads, offering us a rare view some 1,000 m. down to the beach below. It did not last long, and as the cloud base lowered on us, a curious guanaco came to take a brief look, having its picture taken before disappearing into the clouds.
We followed the track north along the cliff’s edge, careful as the track approached the crests of hills, where we were unable to observe its progress beyond the crest – in case it lead straight over the edge to the beach below (one kilometre!), until we reached the point (S232) where in 2003 I had dropped of a group of fellow Copiapoathoners for their walk down the hill to Esmeralda. A cold wind blew along the cliff’s edge and we did not stay long.

As we descended down a track (the tarmac roads from the south side of the park were long gone!) and stopped (S233) to take pictures of the very heavy spined Copiapoa columna-alba (is this what Ritter called C. melanohistrix?) with stems measured by Alain up to 105 cm tall. As we reached the level ground of the Quebrada de la Cachina, we made another stop (S234) at a densely populated plateau of C. columna-alba, before driving through the Quebrada Guanillos to pay our respects to Alan Craig (S235). On the way back, we stopped (S236) at the place where in 2001 and 2003 we had found the minute Copiapoa laui in large numbers, but in the failing light, failed to find any. We’d take a better look tomorrow.

Then it was off to Secret Valley (S237) to put up our tents, build a camp fire from dead Eulychnia saint-pieana wood and consume suitable quantities of Chilean wine to brave a night on the hard desert floor.

We’d have a big surprise on waking up the following morning……

Fully rested (well, Anne and I were – Alain again had difficulty with our snoring), we set off – in thick fog (again!) for Chañaral. In 2003, on the way south, we had left Copiapó in a thick fog that had stayed with us all the way to Vallenar.

This time the fog lifted just before 10:00 and we made two stops along Ruta 5 (S222 and S223), not prompted by cacti, but by a sight we had not seen on our previous trips – a sight that must have inspired Jimi Hendrix to write ‘Purple Haze’. Large patches of normally barren desert were covered by a blanket of flowers. The cause was a small rosette of rather succulent looking leaves, a short thin stem and a small purple flower on top – I believe Calandrinia longiscapa. It grew here in millions! Also in flowers were a lily (common name Añañuca amarilla – botanical name Rhodophiala bagnoldii) and a daisy-like flower, Encelia canescens – if the ‘Chilean Flora For Tourists’ type books that I bought at the airport on the way home, are to be believed. This last plant is very similar to Rudbeckia, a plant found in European gardens but that is endemic to North America.  It was only the third day into our trip and already I had taken more pictures of non succulent plants than in total during the four week trip in 2003!

I took a GPS reading (S224) to mark the turning off Ruta 5 to Barranquillas, a track that we would explore further on the way back. The track looked to lead into the wide, flat valley of the Rio Copiapó. A green line of trees and shrubs indicated where the river provides some water, but otherwise the area looked rather bleak and barren. Two weeks later, when we travel down this track, we were to find a huge surprise!

Past Caldera, we repeated two more stops from previous visits (S225 and S226). At S225, I wanted to check out something that had bothered me since the 2003 trip – how uniform are the populations of Copiapoa calderana here? Not very, when considering spine and epidermis colour. We also found the local Eulychnia in bud – very woolly – and some of the ‘goat-dropping look-alike’ Eriosyce : E. odieri ssp krausi – well done Anne, for spotting these ‘invisible’ plants.

We booked into Hosteria Chañaral for the night (more to confirm that the service here remains sub-standard than for any other reason), sent messages home from the internet cafe in town and did some shopping at the local supermarket as the next night would be spent in tents near Esmeralda. As we walked home, it seemed that we were joined by a Chilean chap. As I stopped to take pictures, he stopped too. When we walked on, so did he. ‘Have you seen that?’ I asked Alain, ‘It is as though he is following us!’  ‘I hope so,’ Alain replied, ‘he’s carrying our shopping!’ 

Tomorrow we enter Pan de Azucar.

Today was due to be another ‘driving day’, some 460 km along Ruta 5.

A few km north of Pichdangui, at Totoralillo, we made our second stop in 2001 S002), and again in 2003 (S109) and I wanted to check up on how this location had survived (S218 this time). Like most of the Pacific Ocean coast, huge stretches are lost to tourism with anything from beach huts to large complexes complete with golf courses popping up like mushrooms on a British autumn lawn.

It is easy to feel sad about the loss of cactus habitats through such developments, but I guess that at the same time we should feel happy for the Chileans as the standard of living appears to have dramatically improved for large numbers of people as a result of this and other (agriculture and mining) developments.
We should also recognise the tremendous improvements made to the roads, so that ‘cactus exploring / tourism’ becomes a much easier option, open to many more people, like ourselves, rather than to a few intrepid individuals not afraid to endure some discomfort and risk to see what we now take for granted.

We were struck by how many more flowers (wild flowers rather than cacti in flower) were on display than on earlier visits. It was great to see many ‘old friends’, cacti that I had photographed on previous occasions so that I could check their progress – just as I would do with plants in my collection back home.

Our second stop of the day was at the petrol station at Termas de Socos (S219), another stop from 2003. So was this just a nostalgic trip of previous cactus stops? Not at all. But in our rush to get to Copiapoa Country it is necessary to drive significant stretches along the Panamericana, while the need for comfort breaks and refuelling bodies and cars continues, and petrol stations are few and far between in this part of the world. And while we stretch our legs, we might as well point our cameras at any interesting plants.

Unfortunately the crested head on one of the Echinopsis (Trichocereus) chiloensis that we had seen last year had died and was hanging limply from the surviving base of the stem.

The remaining two stops before reaching Vallenar were again repeats of previous trips: S220 was at a lay-by on Ruta 5, just north of La Serena and S221 at Ruta 5, just south of Los Hornos, where I introduced Alain to his first Copiapoa (C. coquimbana).

Finding suitable accommodation in Vallenar can be a bit difficult, but we were happily surprised to see a new hotel, Hotel Takia, with the wonderful address of Prat 600. In fact, it was so new that we appeared to be the first guests – the wrappers were still on the beds. The owner spoke good English – another plus point, as my ‘Spenglish’ (a Brian Bates term) is basic in the extreme.

We had hoped to reach La Serena on the first day, a 474 km journey along Ruta 5, the Pan-American Highway. We decided to start the drive, but as we approached Pichidangui, the location of our last stop in 2001 and of our first and last stop in 2003, the eyes became tired and the thought of another return visit became a great temptation.

Soon we were booked into a new cabana and on our way to the seaside to check on the state of the plants. Building development, inspired by tourism, had progressed at pace but ‘our’ plants were safe (S217 = S107 in 2001 and S108 and S216 in 2003). In the past, Eriosyce subgibbosa had been in full flower, while a significant number of similar looking plants had not been. According to Kattermann, these were Eriosyce chilensis var. albidiflora that has a different flower and flowers at a different time (based on our observations E. albidiflora flowers in October rather than May / June).  The other Eriosyce found here, E. curvispina, was in bud, as were Echinopsis litoralis and Eulychnia castanea. This promised to be a treat to look forward to when we are due to return here on the way home, three weeks later.

There is no point in counting the hours since we had last had a good night’s rest, so after the usual local fish dish, washed down with Chilean Cabernet Sauvignon for Anne and I, beer for Alain, we retired to the cabañas for a good night sleep, at least for Anne and I, as Alain discovered that the rumours were true – that my snoring resembles the noise made by thousands of mechanical saws cutting down rain forests.

From 1 to 24 October 2004, some of us returned for Copiapoathon 2004 and again, daily reports were sent to two email forums: cacti_etc and to cactus_study.

So why the ‘Unfinished Business Tour’? I try to have my next trip to (any) cactus country planned before the wheels of the plane taking me home touch down on home soil. At the end of Copiapoathon 2003, we had plans to visit the Big Bend area in Texas, USA, to see Ariocarpus fissuratus in flower during October.  Many of the 2003 Copiapoathoners are making this trip as I prepare these reports and hopefully will file their reports on their return. But two of us – Benjy Oliver and myself – found the lure of Chile in Spring stronger than the USA in Autumn. And so I proposed our trip, around places that I some how missed out on in the past or had learned of since:

• Copiapoa tocopillana, south of Tocopilla

• Copiapoa atacamensis and Eulychinia morromorenoensis, from near Antofagasta

• Copiapoa varispinata from the Izcugña Valley

• The newly described Copiapoa humilis ssp australis from Huasco

• The notoriously difficult to find Euphorbia copiapina

We succeeded on a number of these, but failed on others, leaving us a good excuse for a future Copiapoathon, (The Angie’s Birthday Tour) pencilled in for 2007. At the same time we saw so much more that was not planned, that we came home very satisfied with another great Chilean experience.

Anne Adams (Copiapoathon 2003) and Alain Buffel, from Oostende – Belgium were also keen to come along this time. Due to a medical problem, Benjy called me at noon on the day of departure to say that he would not be able to come along. We’ve spoken since our return and, fortunately, he feels much better.

Top left to right: Bart Hensel, Anne Adams, Alain Buffel
Bottom row: Paul Klaassen, Marijke Hensel at S307

Our flight was due to depart at 19:00 hrs from Terminal 2, London – Heathrow Airport, but I’m always restless on the day of take off, so had asked my partner and one of last year’s Copiapoathoners, Angie Money to pick me up at 1 p.m.  Around noon, I had a phone call from one of the 2004 crew – Benjy Oliver (also a 2001 and 2003 Copiapoathoner) to say that a medical problem prevented him from coming along – quite a blow for both of us at this late moment, as I know how much he had looked forward to this trip and had contributed much to the planning. We’ve spoken since my return and he is fine – just sorry to have missed out.

So it was just Anne and I that flew from Heathrow to Frankfurt – yes, seemingly in the ‘wrong’ direction – to meet up with Alain who had also managed to arrive on time, despite industrial disputes at Brussels Airport. The only thing to report on the flight from Frankfurt to Aeropuerto Internacional Arturo Merino Benitez at Pudahuel – with refuelling at Buenos Aires, is that it takes a long time (some 16 hours) to fly the 7,545 km and that the views out of the window during the last 30 minutes, as we crossed the Andes,  were again breath-taking.

After the long flight, we looked forward to taking control of our own transport, but alas, on arrival at Santiago Airport, our rented Toyota Hilux 4×4 (or the rep from the rental company) was nowhere to be seen. We were soon surrounded by a couple of dozen reps from alternative rental companies, all promising us the best deal ever on what ever car we wanted. Tired from such long flights, one is rather vulnerable – a fact realised by the airport police who soon intervened and dispersed all but the most persistent reps. That final problem was soon resolved by a sergeant from the security police, well armed, but with a personality that made it unnecessary to even suggest that he needed to use them.

A phone call revealed an oversight on the part of the rental company that was however quickly resolved by a rep picking us up and taking us to the garage where our car was ready and waiting. So, some three hours later than planned, we finally started our journey north.

Technically, it  is now 2 October, so I have strayed into tomorrow’s report, but it seems logical to keep the ‘getting there’ section as one.

The final leg – the journey home

As the meeting was brought to a close, we arranged to follow Frankie and Peque back to Santiago. This turned out to be an ‘interesting’ drive, as we had to negotiate a very windy road to get us back to Ruta 5, in the dark, in thick fog, with cars fully laden with people and their luggage. The Kia’s gear ratio was just not right for this type of driving and I was continually changing through the full range of gears to try and keep up with the lead car. It was quite a relief to get to the airport and to say goodbye to our very dirty cars – its amazing to think what punishment they had taken on the often challenging tracks. They had served us well.

Sleeping in airport departure lounges is never ideal, but turned out to be a good idea as the fog outside had not lifted at all. Our early morning drive in the dark from Olmue would have been extra stressful in the knowledge that we had a plane to meet!

The representatives of LYS Rent a Car met us as arranged and formalities were completely quickly and pleasantly – I’d recommend them to others – but do insist that you get the car that you want!

As our check-in time approached, we became aware that many flights had been cancelled. The fog was so thick that our departure was delayed by three hours. Such delays roll on, so that with further delays in Buenos Aires, chances of making our connecting flight in Madrid were minimal. We eventually arrived at London (Gatwick) Airport nine hours late, to the unaccustomed sound of a heavy rain storm on the glass roof.

Previous experience had learned me to prepare for a mild dose of ‘post-trip depression’ and that the best therapy is to write up your notes and sort out your pictures while things are still relatively fresh, if muddled, in your memory. These Copiapoathon Diaries are the result.

Another therapy consists of planning your next trip, before the plane touches down in England, so Marlon, are you ready for Brazil 2005* ?

* Since the trip, Marlon accepted on opportunity to study for his PhD at the University of Zurich, so that his availability for a trip were unclear. Instead, some of us decided to join Guillermo Rivera for a guided cactus tour in North West Argentina, but not before I sneaked back to Chile in October 2004 with Anne Adams and Alain Buffel – but that’s another story.

All good things come to an end, and so the time had come to rearrange our packing for the flight home.

The weather was not great when we got up, a reminder that we were in the middle of the Chilean winter and had come a good deal further south, away from the equator. We woke up cold and damp and thoughts of tomorrow’s flight home further dampened our mood. We would have to leave here at about 5:30 a.m. and in the dark find our way to the airport. We all agreed that once today was over, we’d drive straight to the airport so as to have plenty of time to get there, empty out the cars – our home for the last four weeks – and to get our souvenirs.

Alvaralto and a meeting of the Chilean Cactus Society

Alvaralto is the name of Ricardo and Ingrid’s home, high in the hills above Olmué. It is not the easiest of places to find and so Ricardo had arranged to meet us on the main road. We followed him up the windy track, higher and higher, until we had broken through the cloud base and once again enjoyed brilliant sunshine. This cheered us up considerably. As we parked our cars there was another indicator of what time of year plants thought it was – narcissi were in bloom, just as they would be on a sunny Spring day in March in the UK, or earlier further south in Europe.

Rudolf and Brendan Burke had told us of Ricardo and Ingrid’s wonderful garden, but had not really prepared us for the marvellous sights that unfolded, each time we turned another bend along paths that snaked through the garden. Ricardo had built wooden structures, covered with polycarbonate sheets and filled them with benches similar to those found at commercial nurseries in the UK. The benches were full of cacti, but not just Chilean ones – most genera were represented and with most plants having been grown from seed, the number of individuals of the same species and the same age paid tribute to Ricardo’s ability to obtain excellent germination. The same was true for Chilean cacti grown from habitat seed. The order and tidiness of the collection made me feel guilty about the state of my own collection, particularly as I still had to complete building their winter home on my return, after my house move earlier in the year. But there was something else that set this collection apart from the many I have seen in Europe: the great attention to detail and artistic flair for which Ricardo credited Ingrid.

And then another turn in the path and another wooden frame / polycarbonate covered structure, but much larger. Inside we were delighted by a cactus garden, landscaped to make use of the natural hillside location with massive rocks that must surely have been left in place, with the remainder of the garden built around it. Again, cactus and succulent plants from around the globe were on display, but now large, mature specimens and again Ingrid’s artistic flair was in evidence. All plants were clearly labelled, with location information included where available. Film shortage problems experienced yesterday hit a high, but everyone’s needs were met, even if rationing was the order of the day.

Throughout the day refreshments were offered – and I have to mention here that our visit had coincided with a meeting of a branch of the Chilean Cactus Society that afternoon with an ‘open-house’ at the Alvaralto collection in the morning. It was great to meet and exchange experiences with Chilean hobbyists – they all put our language skills to shame as they were fluent in English – unlike our very limited knowledge of Spanish – during the trip we struggled after ordering the beers.

Soon after midday, we returned down the mountain.  In the village we were lead through what seemed a small grocery shop, to what turned out to be a large open air restaurant with large barbeques at full blast roasting a variety of meats. In one area, tables had been set out to accommodate the twenty or so cactophiles for a delicious meal, as always accompanied by excellent Chilean wine.

After the meal, we all went back to the cabanas where we had spent the night and in the large function room the furniture was quickly rearranged in the usual branch meeting set up – rows of chairs facing a projection screen. Some of us had brought slides along so that we could show our Chilean friends how we indulge in the hobby in the UK. Cliff took us through his Thelocactus collection (a talk I had tried but failed to book him for in England for at least two years), Ian showed us slides of his visits to European collections and nurseries and I finished off the conventional slides with pictures taken around my own collection and at the Holly Gate Cactus Garden in Ashington, West Sussex. I feel that I’d rather let the side down, as by this time it was completely dark outside and, pushed for time and tired, I struggled to get my slides the right way up in the cartridge – several appeared sideways or upside down – sorry! I had planned to take one of my regular talks, but during my recent house move, this had been put ‘in a safe place’, which I have yet to discover. As a result, some 50 slides had been selected in too great a rush on the morning of our departure for Chile.

Ricardo made me very envious with his closing presentation – a digital projector display of images of Thelocephala in habitat – very informative and somewhat embarrassing when I learned that we should have found some of these minute plants, hidden mostly deep in the gravel, at some of the places where we had been – too busy pointing our cameras at the impressive Copiapoa.