Here you can not catch a single FM radio or cellular signal or any mobile phone operator …¡¡ as close to paradise!

It is very simple, just try not to take any means of electronic contact with civilization, while ensuring that none of his fellow political activity is (God forbid!) Or affection to talk politics. Because if it has any means of communication, of course that the policy will achieve it, and instantly go from being a person outdoor recreation, a concerned citizen or indifferent for his country.

I remember once returning from a scouting expedition in the Andes araucopatagónicos of several weeks isolated from the world without any social contact outside of our group, and the return we had to ask what was currently the president of Argentina, because honestly and had lost track of past lynchings that took place constantly … but I assure you, we were happy just not to know for sure!

Enjoy the experience of living outside of politics! It really is the best prizes that you get to get away from civilization. Once you try it, you will not want to know anything about this plague more urban, and start seeing the world through different eyes, the eyes of a living being, not an ordinary citizen.

We had stopped to eat in a mound from which he saw a gap, went full speed when running two rabbits, describing a closed curve without stopping to meet our large group. Two seconds are lost in the distance. At 15 seconds it took nearly as swift, but more awkward, two greyhounds that chase, but meet us were distracted and stopped, which made them keep track of.

People broke into a round of applause for the triumph of the rabbits when they arrived just behind the hunters dog owners. Thing understandable considering that we were all there to make a outdoor activity and related environment, and I’m not talking of course of hunting as “sport”, although, as in this case, a species bred for that in many Spanish hunting, as is the rabbit.

Another time I was climbing a mountain in Patagonia and was surprised by a sudden movement to my right: a hare (¿Patagonian or European?) Ran like a soul to the devil, I could hardly appreciate. Nearby (miles, kilometers less) about 8 years later I had the opportunity to see another (or the same?) Hare, which more than once I saw footprints in the snow ahead of our steps.

In this case the fact rewarded me in the saying that says “who helps early bird” because after leaving my refuge at dawn, and while I used to evacuate my bladder in silence enjoying the sound of morning birds combined with the the meltwater streams, so typical of the wild places of Araucania and Patagonia, you can see to my surprise, about 50 meters, a common or European hare (Lepus europaeus), [1] a competitor of the Patagonian hare or mara (Dolichotis patagonum – Salinicola) [2] was devoted to eating quietly at the boundary between the stunted beech forest that was in front, and the stone where he was our refuge-maze.

The hare did not notice my presence, so this time I even had time to take pictures and filming. What’s more, the next day exactly the same happened in the same place: the animals are creatures of habit, many eat at certain times of day and in a circumscribed territory … which sometimes brings his downfall.

The mara or Patagonian hare is not related to hares and rabbits, is a rodent mammal [3] much larger than the common hares and rabbits (adult specimens weighing over 16 kg, against 7 or 8 of the latter). Precisely the European hare, as can be inferred by its name, was introduced in South America to hunt, and (because of man) indirectly responsible for the Patagonian hare or mara is back as a species occupying the same ecological niche between Pampa and Patagonia. Luckily for the hare, I was not caught, but simply a browser lover of the outdoors, and is endemic or not, was a pleasure to watch her act without fear, something rare in a rabbit when the man is nearby.

To demonstrate this we intend to write a thousand and one (1001) things you can do outdoors, and each of them we dwell in a post of this blog. We may take some time yes … but let’s get to work now.

To inaugurate this series of posts about things you can do outdoors, say this is one of them. Yes, if you have the ability to write and publish on the Internet (and if we do not have it we give it, contact us) can do just sitting in a park, if you have a notebook or a laptop. The wireless connection is not essential, because what you write can go once they return home after writing outdoors.

And if you’re a computer medium in which to write outdoors, not undrinkable. Write on paper and then pass it has its advantages: you can generally type faster, and is therefore more fluid connection “text ideas” and on the other hand, when you must pass the written, is given a second look and correcting the text, which does not hurt. So … get to work, the keyboard or the pen (outside, of course )

In the village of Mazuko, in the jungle of the Republic of Peru, watched the falling water warning that the rainy season had begun. This complicated my plan to reach the city of Puerto Maldonado Peru also. While one hundred and fifty miles separating me from my destiny did not seem significant, the state in which they found they were. For hours I waited for a truck, almost the only means of transport between the towns named, no luck. The villagers believed that some difficulties have begun to manifest in the road coming from Cuzco on account of rain. Tired, I decided to look for accommodation.

The modest hotel room where I stayed was clean and fresh. When the electric generator stopped working people at the same time every day, I was resting. The wooden walls let in the sound of the raindrops rattling everywhere. With this it was difficult to sleep.

The next morning I learned that a truck was about to leave and I hurried to find him. It was a Volvo N 1020, appeared to be very robust. In this area, both trucks are transporting cargo and people. So I went for a large group of people, up from sacks of potatoes, cabbage, general food and general merchandise.

Accommodation as we could and prevailing comments on the time it would take to arrive. Until after closing business deals were continued and new packages are crowded into the vehicle. In these places, prices vary greatly with the kilometer, which is why each person a lot of luggage. Walking distance to sell everything and a handful of Suns, which is the Peruvian currency, light a little personal savings.

Previous police checkpoint, leaving behind the people of Mazuko. The jungle surrounded us and then the road began to be difficult. Surprised, I noticed that in every shaft or slope the truck is leaning considerably. Its creaking wooden box with the torque suffered. I realized that the trip would not be quiet. My colleagues commented that it is normal for tipping lorries leaving good number of injured or dead. I think of all the passengers, I was most worried me. Others supported it with the tranquility that comes from the habit. For them, this form of travel, was normal. For me, sharing the social life in the truck was an interesting experience. As you saw, each had won a place among the cargo. This space used to be respected won by others. If not so, the owner defended him shouting, elbowing and discussions.

To these people I was a stranger. They called me “gringo”, a term with calling abroad and which was used with a derogatory tone. For many of these people I was European, American, African or Argentinian was more or less the same. It was different in many ways to what they were accustomed. For this reason and the natural curiosity of the human being, I was constantly questioned, taking on some occasions, to answer the same question several times. My team was highly scrutinized, but still sleeping or at different times I left the group, nothing was stolen from me.

He was also constantly tested. I asked for something borrowed, teased me and occupied my place to see and react. I actually sought to know what my limit. In some cases, they are clearly marked, but always trying to maintain harmony.

The sides were made from one inch pine boards. There were heavy metal latches
and hasps as well as a 2×4 frame inside. The box was through bolted
together with carriage bolts and the seams were glued as well. It was huge.
It was very heavy (the only way he could load it onto the picnic
table was by backing his station wagon right up to the end of the table and with
a great deal of effort, he would push and slide it out onto the table).

With a great deal confidence he placed his bacon, cheese, eggs and other
foodstuffs into the portable vault closed and locked the latch sealing the lid.
He retired to his canvas domicile to get a well deserved night’s
sleep, confident he would be well fed in the morning.

About 2:00 AM he, along with everyone else in the campground,
was awakened by the sounds of a marauding bruin.

A decent sized crowd of onlookers had gathered and watched in anticipation as
the bear approached the table supporting “the box.”

The bear sniffed the box (I never said it was air tight) and pondered for a
moment…then with a swipe of it’s paw hit the box squarely on the end and
sent it careening down the table. The box flew off the opposite end and hit
the ground some 15 feet from where it had become airborne.

The bear dropped to all fours and casually sauntered around the table to the
impact crater (actually more like a large divot) to see what his handy
work had accomplished. The bruin had accomplished nothing.
The box held.

My parents met at a dance. Unremarkable as that may seem, the reason they
actually began talking was that both seemed to have an unatural
love of Old Town wood canoes.

In late 1959 they were married, an event to which I owe my very existence,
and set off on their honeymoon. The trip was as unconventional
(for the time) as the spark that had put them together in
the first place.They camped across Canada and the United States.

A good portion of their journey was spent in Yellowstone National Park in
Wyoming. This one stop gave rise to more of my father’s campfire stories than
any other single event during the journey.

One in particular stands out — The Bruin and the “Strongbox.”

Venezuela is one of the great billfishing places in the world. The fall season for white marlin is famous, of course, and Venezuela’s blue marlin fishing is becoming an additional magnet. Add to these attractions the fact that these waters have significant populations of sails and swordfish, and we understand why so many anglers–veterans and novices–flock to Venezuela.

But there is a negative side. Many booking agents have packaged extremely inexpensive fishing trips and, of course, you get what you pay for. Even some of the more expensive boats have disappointed some anglers. Some of the comments we’ve heard in the last few years:

• “I planned on fishing with light tackle for white marlin and all they had on board were 50- and 80-pound outfits.”
• “I knew we were in trouble when the `mate’ began reeling with the reel upside down and it wasn’t a spinning reel!”
• “We were booked on one boat and paid $750 for a day’s charter, and they switched us to another cheaper boat that was in terrible shape and we never were given the difference in price…”
• “The boat didn’t even have a mop on board..”
• “The mate had never wired a fish before. I thought he was going to lose his fingers…he almost did.”
• “We arrived at the Sheraton Macuto hotel and they didn’t have our reservation despite the fact that we prepaid it (that was me, your editor).”

And on and on. Of course, there are a few good operations, too.

Zooming to the top is Jeff West and his Pesca Liquida operation.

We’ve never fished with West on his magnificent Courtesan, but we’ve heard many good things about his operation, staff, knowledge and analytical approach to angling. After fishing here for a number of seasons, West has decided to headquarter in Venezuela and has begun to expand and already added another boat. His entire operation spells C-L-A-S-S, not only because of his and his captains’ fishing expertise but also for attention to every detail from arrival through accommodations and comfort to, of course, the fishing. He can’t control the weather or the fishing, but everything else is meticulously thought out. Obviously, it costs considerably more to fish with the best, but judging from the repeat business percentage, his operation is worth it.