After a short stay at Auberge La Visite and a day riding mountain bikes in La Visite National Park, it was time to return back on the same road from Port-Au-Prince to La Visite. This was one of those days where you envision a mostly downhill run back into town, only to realize that you have 4,000 feet of climbing before you reach that final descent.

There is a lot of story in the image below. You can see the road climb all the way into the far left portion of the frame. In the foreground there are the typical two clean lines through the rocks that are worn in by foot and motorcycle traffic. The bike is indicative of the usual motorcycles on the route, although they typically have more people on them. I’ll let you draw your own conclusions about the man versus beast battle taking place.

Here we encountered another rider on a mountain bike, the only one of the trip. He was pushing his way up a steep and rocky section, so we didn’t get a chance to shred together.

There is one ridiculously steep section of the road that is paved with cobbles and has steps along the side. We rode down this two days earlier, and I wasn’t really sure if it was going to be ridable on the way back or not.

This pitch was pretty much as steep as you can really ride. Lifting over the ridges was brutal. I made it literally to the last one that I had to clear and ran out of power. Ahhh! So close! With a little better fitness I could have definitely made it up.

I’m including this last shot of Michel driving our support mule. I think it gives a good perspective of the steepness of the grade.

After this point we put our heads down and rode out the rest of the route. I didn’t take any pictures of the downhill as we were shooting with GoPro helmet cam footage. I will hopefully add a link to that if and when the video gets edited. We did enjoy 9,000 feet of altitude loss on this day to compensate for the 4,000 feet of climbing. The last descent into Port-au-Prince was long, fast, and fun!

There is a saying that the average Haitian knows more about New York than Haiti. Our Port-au-Prince hotel manager had never even heard of La Visite National Park, even though it’s only 30 miles south of the city. Despite the anonymity, this modest twelve-square mile refuge of pine trees and grasslands represents an important shift in mentality. In 1983 this park was created in order to protect the land from the rampant deforestation which has stripped all but 1.4% of Haiti from tree cover. Groups like Fondation Sequin are working to plant literally millions of trees, and there needs to be more awareness of the efforts, not only internationally but internally as well. We’re here to show the beauty of the landscape and promote the area as a mountain biking destination.

We head out from Winnie’s house through the bright yellow bushes into the deep pine forest. We are just shy of 6,000 feet, and we are literally in the clouds. As we ride, the weather changes schizophrenically back and forth between sun and fog.

The dirt is perfectly packed orange clay with rocky and technical interludes. These trails are worn in footpaths, and a guide is absolutely necessary to trace a route through the endless labyrinth.

In the forest the singletrack is covered with pine needles which allow for predictable drifting at speed. Even here we found some reminders that we are in the tropics.

There are many sinkholes in the area, but this sinkhole has a bridge across the top that you can ride.

Even with a 16mm lens this sinkhole was tough to photograph. Next time I’ll rappel down inside, but here you can get a sense for the cool stalactite rock formations, as long as you can tune out the showoff.

Those same rock formations that hang from the roof of the sinkhole also protrude upwards out of the ground like razor teeth. Wherever we go, the children are mesmerized by us and our bicycles. This is no completely remote location, as the locals are ever present.

The purpose of this trip is to promote the natural beauty and potential of Haiti, and not to focus on the poverty and the suffering. However, I can’t not publish photos like these, that give a true sense of the disparity between our world and their world. I’ll let the photos do the talking.

As we broke out of the rolling hills in the forest, the terrain began to roll off into infinity. They tell me that on a clear day I would be looking at the Caribbean Sea instead of a wall of clouds. I’m looking forward to coming back and capturing that photo.

Watching the clouds flow over the mountains reminded me a lot of being above the clouds in the mountains along the coast of California.

As the day comes to a close, the clouds break, the sun shines through, and I’m loving the perfect evening light.

I hope you enjoyed these images, which are truly the first ever recorded in this region. Tomorrow we will be back with the grand finale, the return trip to Port-au-Prince featuring 4,000 feet of climbing and 9,000 feet of descents.

After climbing from Port-au-Prince to the misty highlands of Parc National La Visite, we refueled and rested at the Auberge La Visite. This forest oasis has been owned and operated by Winthrop Attié and his family since 1996, and is named after the old fashioned European auberges where travelers could just stop in for a bed and a meal. Locals just call it ‘Kay Winnie’ in Creole, which translates to ‘Winni’s House’.

You may have noticed in yesterday’s photos that there aren’t many trees left in Haiti. Statistically, only 1.4% of Haitian lands are still forested. Fortunately, there are groups working to reverse this destructive pattern. In 2004 Winni co-founded Fondation Seguin, in order to preserve the forests that remain. Today, they are in the middle of a project funded from a grant from US AID to plant 300,000 trees in the national park in honor of the 300,000 dead from the 2010 earthquake.

In addition to honorable qualities, Winni also possesses some of the cutest dogs on the island. I’m going to deviate from our philanthropic mountain bike adventures to post gratuitous puppy shots in order to bolster my Google ranking. Check back tomorrow we will see what kind of mountain biking terrain we uncovered out the door of Winni’s House.

We are here in Haiti to reconnoiter the race course for Haiti’s first ever cycling event, MTB Ayiti. This ambitious project is the brainchild of New York City resident Philip Kiracofe. The 39-year-old spotted what he thought could be epic mountain biking terrain in the range just southeast of Port-au-Prince while volunteering in the capital city after the earthquake. The mountains here are extreme, and the highest point on this small country is an incredible 8793 ft. Philip was so convinced that he decided to make mountain biking in Haiti the signature offering of his adventure travel company, Travelcology, and to partner with Rick Sutton, the man responsible for the Sea Otter Classic, to create an international stage race. This is a race that could change the entire world’s perception of Haiti, featuring it on ESPN instead of CNN. While foreign aid and NGO’s offer immediate relief to disaster shocked residents, over time they can create a handout culture. Adventure tourism is one way to create an infrastructure in a country starved for economic development. This is the quick and dirty summary of a topic which I could go on about, but that is for another time and another publishing venue. For my photo blog, lets get on with the images and the story of Haiti Mountain Biking Day One.

We loaded our donated Specialized Hard Rock’s into the back of Clayton’s pickup and began the climb out of the city. Sure, we could have used better bikes, but we were grateful that these three bikes magically showed up less than two weeks before our arrival. There wasn’t going to be time to ride the entire proposed Day 1 course with its 9,000 vertical feet of elevation gain and 4,200 feet of loss. As we drove up the broken pavement, Chris from IMBA and I shook our heads and giggled. The pickup spun it’s tires, grappling for traction on the 26.5% grade. The first wall out of Port-au-Prince relentlessly climbs 3,000 vertical feet, and I doubt I could have climbed it with February fitness without stopping.

After 45 minutes of driving we reached the end of the line for the pickup. This is the only road that heads south out of Port-au-Prince through the high mountains, but it isn’t passable by normal passenger trucks. We had a rendezvous with a quad that would carry our gear to the top. While we swapped gear, we drew a crowd. Gringos on fancy mountain bikes are not normally seen out here, so I put on a show and rode some wheelies for the kids.

The road relentlessly climbs and descends along this high traverse. It’s possible to ride it all, if you have the watts, with the exception of the final climb, which is impossibly steep and loose. In the next photo you can see the bulk of the traverse portion of our route, including the final climb which tops out at La Visite National Park.

The detail of the landscape is difficult to convey in a web sized image. Innumerable winding footpaths descend from the road down along the terraced hillsides into deep valleys.

What do you think of this descent? I want to come back here with an all-mountain bike with a seat dropper post, and tackle some first descents. The logistical challenge is, how do you get out? The psychological challenge is, what will you find when you reach the bottom?

While the previous image was the most extreme downhill that I saw, the region is absolutely covered with tempting ribbons of brown.

But on this trip, we had to stick to the main road. We heard reports of incredible singletrack in the high altitude area of La Visite National Park, where there still remains a protected forested area. We know that in order to make a race successful, we need to have a reward for conquering the hardest climb in the Caribbean. Seeking scenic singletrack with a serious fun factor, we kept riding and pushing our way up increasing grades into the clouds, passing through small villages along the way.

Along the road, there is constant motorcycle and foot traffic. Adults are generally pretty amused by your suffering, and the children shout and come running to witness the spectacle. The motorcycles have created an essential worn in good line that makes the steep sections barely possible to climb.

Like any properly epic climb, the most demoralizing pitch is saved for last. This stretch climbs 850 feet in 1.2 miles, which is a seemingly moderate 13% average gradient. But don’t let those numbers fool you, there are two-tenths of a mile over 20% and a maximum pitch of 32% of pure rock-strewn evil. In a race scenario, you might be well-off to do a triathlon-style transition to change into running shoes, since stiff carbon shoes struggle for footing. Strewn with old de-soled and discarded shoes, we named this heinous gem ‘The Sole Collector’, pun intended.

These ladies make this climb (and descent) look easy. They carry 50+ pound loads up and down every day without breaking a sweat, while Clayton struggled to even lift one. The

I emerged from the climb in a thick fog. La Visite has a completely different energetic feel to the place, largely due to the indigenous forest. Completely blind as to what was ahead, I wondered if I’d really find the goods. Would there really be fun riding up here, or would this be another case of so-so sheep singletrack? Tune in tomorrow to see what we found.

This week I’ll be blogging images from my trip to Haiti two weeks ago. The purpose of the trip was to help launch the MTB Ayiti (http://mtbayiti.org/) project. I’ll write more about that tomorrow when we head up, and I mean straight up, into the mountains for two days of mountain biking. Upon my arrival, we had a brief couple hours on the streets of Port-au-Prince.

Everyone wants to know if the city is still in disarray after the earthquake two years ago. The answer is mostly no. The city for the most part appears to be back in the disarray that it was prior to the earthquake.

As an artist, I immediately noticed the widespread display of art for sale on the streets. The displays would stretch for over a full city block, and it’s difficult to comprehend how they are able to set it all up and tear it down daily, or if it rains. The local style is very universal and is dominated by bright colors, with African, Cubist, and Surrealist influence.

I met one of the artists, who was eager to practice his English with me. He told me that sometimes the artists sell their own work, or sometimes the art is sold by people who are only salesmen.

The population density is high, and the streets are full of people going here and there, often carrying their loads on their heads. Everywhere there is the flair for color, from the clothes people wear to the painted colors of the buildings and vehicles.

Thanks for checking out this Haitian appetizer, tomorrow I’ll be back with images and backstory of our quest to bring Haiti it’s first mountain bike race.

Here is a view from poolside in the courtyard of Hotel Kinam. Here I am the 1%. You won’t be seeing much more luxury out of this trip.

Today we headed out to a local Boulder trailhead to capture a banner image for the monthly Butting Heads column in Elevation Outdoors magazine. The point-counterpoint argument for the May issue will be whether you should or should not date outside your sport of choice.

Adam Chase is a professional ultrarunner and editor at Running Times magazine who argues that when seeking a partner you should mix it up. Jayme Moye is the managing editor of Elevation Outdoors and a road cyclist who feels you just shouldn’t go there. Can you wait until May to pick up a copy of EO to find out who will win? From my perspective, this isn’t a topic worthy of making a lemon face about. If you have the opportunity to shack up with a tight body in even tighter clothing, then you should go for it either way and sort the rest out later.

It’s the end of the line. It’s been a great run, but this is the final post in the 2012 Patagonia Blog Saga. Don’t worry, I saved a great post for the finale.

Much of the landscape of present day Torres Del Paine has been defined by forest fires. Lightning does not occur naturally in this area, so all fires have been started by humans, most recently in 1985, 2005, and December 2011. The Mirador Cuernos hike travels directly through the recently burned forests.

Other than the charred vegetation, you will immediately notice the extreme wind that we were battling during this hike. At one point it ripped the sunglasses out from under my hood and flung them down the mountain. One minute they were on my face, the next minute they were gone. At times we had to squat down low for fear that we would be thrown to the ground. Boulder is a windy place, but it doesn’t have anything on Patagonia.

I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again. This is the most scenic landscape that I’ve ever seen in person.

The wind was blowing strong for most of our week-long stay. When you have waves crashing on the shore of a lake, then you know it’s windy. At one point I saw waves large enough that they had an actual tube. I’d say that it was large enough for a cat to catch a tube ride, if they actually liked water of course.

Salto Grande falls flow from Nordenskjöld Lake to Lake Pehoé. They actually are much larger below the rapids showing here, but this made a better photo so here you go.

Thanks for tuning in for the grand saga of our Galapagos-Patagonia tour. My next international trip isn’t too far away, only two and a half weeks to go until a mountain biking adventure in Haiti. For a sneak preview, check out the promo video.

Torres Del Paine and the Estancia Cerro Guido are located in the XII Magellan Region of Patagonia. This is the local flag, blowing hard in the typically brutal winds that sweep across the white capped waves of Lake Sarmiento.

The grasslands on the eastern flank of Torres Del Paine are working ranches called “estancias.” The guachos are the cowboys of the region, riding across the property and tending to the livestock. We took a scenic horseback ride up into the forested hills. There wasn’t much scenery up there, but it did offer welcome protection from the howling wind.

Gaucho style!

This particular estancia has a restaurant and hotel rooms, and in recent years has taken up small-batch craft beer brewing.

This funny moment occurred when I began to take a portrait of the gauchos, and I noticed that the large fellow on the right had left his fly down. I gestured the international signal for “your fly is down,” which of course drew laughs from the others. It’s good to know that forgetting to zip your fly is the most embarrassing thing you can ever do, worldwide.

For our Patagonia visit, we stayed at Tierra Patagonia Lodge which is located on the northeastern shore of Lake Sarmiento. Every day we watched the sun rise and set over the peaks. I was even able to watch the sun rise in my underwear!

A short 20 minute hike from the lodge brought me down to the shores of the lake, where I indulged in some long exposure captures of the mountains reflecting in the water.

There was a line of giant pumice stones all along the beach. My feet are now silky smooth.

The wind was often relentless.

Here I am not being sad that I’m missing out on some powder days at Vail.

If you’ve been hanging around for any length of time, you know that I have a thing for cool clouds. These formations are some of my top favorites.

Today I bring you with us on our biggest mountain biking day in Patagonia, when we doubled up and did two epic rides. Our first outing was a point-to-point ride across three estancia properties on the edge of Torres Del Paine National Park. We began with an extremely cold stream crossing. Even in the middle of summer, we were seeing nightly snowfall a couple thousand feet above the valley floor, so this water could very well have been snow earlier in the day.

This was a sweet bit of singletrack, as long as you don’t mind piles of dung everywhere. Jayme can smile big because she is in front here. Don’t try this while you’re drafting.

Here we have a view of the Torres. Well, a partial view anyway. This ride offers a spectacular view of the iconic towers, but on this day my photographer luck wasn’t with me, and the spires remained shrouded in clouds throughout our journey.

As the local gauchos (cowboys) ride their horses across their lands, they spend the night in structures located throughout the estancia. This one was particularly colorful, and run-down. This is Jayme’s “I wouldn’t sleep here for one second” look.

Corrugated metal is the building material of choice, as is evidenced by yet another ranch house in the background of this photo. This is a photo of Jayme landing in the gully after dropping off the ledge. Pretty rad, huh?

We doubled up on the mountain biking, and headed out to Torres Del Paine National Park after a hearty lunch at Tierra Patagonia. There isn’t much recreational mountain biking in this area, so their aren’t many user conflicts. It seems that you can ride mountain bikes on the hiking trails in the parks if you ask permission. We rode “The Hunters Trail” which is in the grasslands at the entrance of the park. This is moderate and ridable terrain with buffed out singletrack and stunning views of the Torres.

Once again the mountains were covered in stormy clouds that seemed to hover over the peaks, neither advancing nor retreating.

Cover shot!

Since this point to point trail gets a lot of human traffic, the surface was smooth and worn in. This was the best singletrack of the trip.

Orchestrated scenic mountain biking shots are great, but you cannot beat a true captured moment. Not even with a really big stick.

Our two-ride epic mountain biking day in Patagonia ended with a buff and flowy singletrack decent. The finale featured this long set of stairs built into the trail. As I said, there aren’t many mountain bikes here, and I’m certain I got more than a few odd looks from the two full tour buses in the parking lot as I bumped my way down.

During the course of our week in Patagonia, I captured quite a few images of native animals. I previously published photos of Andean Condors in their own blog post since that was such an incredible day.

We saw a couple flamingos when we were in the Galapagos, and it seemed perfectly normal to see them in a warm tropical setting. I was definitely not expecting to see them in an inhospitable climate such as this. Here is a flock getting battered by 60 mph winds in Torres Del Paine National Park.

These horses are not wild, but we did see some wild horses on one of our hikes. The wild ones ran off when we were spotted a half a mile away across impassable terrain.

This is my favorite character from the trip. While on a horseback ride our guides spotted this juvenile Austral Pygmy Owl in a tree on the estancia. I was amazed at how close he let me get without flying off.

Probably the least exciting photo is this herd of some wooly sheep. But how can you have a Patagonia animals post without sheep?

There are plenty of rheas roaming around the plains. They are quite wild, and also tend to run off when you try to photograph them. This isn’t the Galapagos where the animals have no natural predators. The puma are plentiful here.

The most common animal in this region are the guanacos. They are so common that they would probably get boring, if it wasn’t for the fact that they are so damn cute. How about those lips?

And now we reach the point in the blog where we get to see the dead stuff. I have literally never seen so many bones and skeletons lying around. As we were riding our mountain bikes we would literally run over bones that were lying around on the trail. The puma eat very well here.

Our favorite hike while in Patagonia was at Grey Lake. We started out walking along the shores of the glacial lake to an iceberg viewpoint. We weren’t blessed with great sunlight, but even through the mist the turquoise blue glaciers were impressive.

After our morning hike along the lake, we set out to climb the steep 2000 vertical foot trail up to the Mirador Lago Grey.

Just before reaching the summit, we entered a forested area rich with green foliage. Another hiker told us to watch for parrots, but sadly we didn’t see any.

The summit viewpoint was capped in bald red rocks. The wind was howling of course, but the view of Torres Del Paine National Park was incredible.

And to the west, we could see the rippled Grey Glacier pouring into the lake. We stayed as long as we could in a rocky hollow that offered protection from the battering winds, before descending back into the valley, knowing that we had just experienced one of the best viewpoints in the world.

On one of our mountain bike excursions near the Tierra Patagonia Lodge, we happened upon this dry lake bed. I saw the texture of the perfectly cracked mud, and thought that it would make a great backdrop for an edgy sports portrait. In order to illuminate Jayme decked out in her Switch Sunglasses and Pearl Izumi kit, astride a Specialized bike, I balanced backlighting from the sun with two Speedlights at full power. I do love the dramatic result that you can achieve by using strobes in conjunction with backlighting, you just have to be conscientious of the proper time to use it.

On our second morning in Patagonia we left our home base at Tierra Patagonia Lodge and headed out for the Condoreras Hike. This trek took us up and along a ridge frequented by Andean Condors. We lashed down our hoods to protect us from the cold and blustery winds that are the norm here in Patagonia. I really had no idea what to expect as our group hiked up an animal path to the barren ridge. I was happy just getting out and snapping scenic photos of the Torres Del Paine, capped in an overnight summer snowfall.

I think I may have heard the quiet whoosh of the wind passing along the incredible 10 foot wingspan even before I saw the first condor. It was an unforgettable sound.

Despite gusts of wind that threatened to blow me right off the 800 foot cliff, I was drawn to the edge. The Andean Condor is the largest flying land-based bird in the world, and they have been found to live over 100 years (in captivity). They are truly awe-inspiring to behold.

And then I came along an adult male sitting on a ledge 30 feet below us. Here you can see the detail in their bizarre buzzard heads. Mr. Condor, I salute you, your featherless head, dangly comb, and stylish neck warmer.

By halfway through the hike, the condors had flown off to parts unknown. Once again we waited for “sucker holes” of blue sky to shine upon us so that we could obtain valuable Facebook profile photos.

As we hiked down the ridge the sun came out and warmed our chilled bones, our spirits and cameras filled with powerful memories of condors in flight.

Today’s post brings us to our first mountain bike adventure in Chilean Patagonia. The grasslands of southern South America are mostly owned by ranching families, and the land is referred to as estancia. This is ranching land, and there is an abundance of sheep and guanacos, as well as the pumas that hunt them. So the singletrack created by the locals is schizophrenic at best.

I have never been anywhere with so many skeletons and bones lying around. At one point I was threading the impossibly narrow and twisty sheep singletrack when I ran directly over a sheep skull. Jayme saw the spinal column whiplash and disconnect. Gnarly.

Our group stops to admire the view, and watch some grazing horses in the field. These horses are owned by the estancia, unlike the wild horses that we saw earlier in the day at Lago Toro. The wild horses bolted as soon as we were detected, but these horses allowed us to get within a hundred yards.

I knew that I wanted a shot of Jayme mountain biking with the horses in the background. As she rode towards the group they naturally galloped off. There was one horse that was isolated from the group, and he came flying by at the last minute, providing for a memorable image, to say the least.

Thanks for reading about our warmup Patagonian mountain bike adventure. Tune in tomorrow for incredible images of Andean Condors in flight.

Our first adventure in Patagonia was a quick little hike to a viewpoint that looks out over Lake Toro. This terrain is the estancia region of Chilean Patagonia, just outside the borders of Torres Del Paine National Park. An estancia refers to ranch land in the South American grasslands that is usually used for raising livestock such as sheep and cattle.

The landscape is dominated by these puffy yet prickly yellow-green bushes. I don’t know the actual name, but everyone calls them by their common name, “Mother-In-Law Bushes”. Don’t ask my why as I have no idea.

It was a calm, warm, and mostly cloudy day. Great sunlight for photography was a fickle mistress. The clouds don’t exactly move across the sky here, they just seem to form and dissipate. A hole would open and the sun would poke out, then I would set up a shot and it would go away. Or, we could look up and see the sun just on the edge of a patch of clear blue sky, and we would wait for the sun to move into that space, but it would never come. Jayme named these clear patches “sucker holes”.

Here we have a perfect Facebook Timeline shot looking out over Lago Toro towards Torres Del Paine. The iconic spires are obscured by clouds, as they are much of the time.

And then, the sucker hole opens up, and the sun shines down for that magazine cover shot!

It’s Monday morning and I’m back home in Colorado, and ready to continue blogging photos from my big South American adventure. When we last left off, we had left the Galapagos, spent a luxurious day in Santiago, and were en route to the Tierra Patagonia Lodge in Chilean Patagonia. Both of our LAN airline plane flights were photo worthy, as we straddled the spine of the Andes mountain range.

As we flew south out of Santiago, we soon encountered a moon-like landscape. The 12,428-foot Cerro Azul is an active volcano in the southern volcanic zone of Chile. There is a lot of snow across the Andes, especially since we are at the height of summer in the southern hemisphere.

This is actually a pretty crappy picture, but I’m including it just to show the Lakes and Rivers zone of the Andes. This is the region in between the volcanic region and the southern Magellan region where we are heading. This area receives much more rain and snow, and has lush green forests, similar to the American Northwest.

Chile contains two giant ice fields, which constitute the 3rd largest in the world after the northern and southern ice caps. Here we have some images of the glacial formations of the North Patagonia Ice Field. This is really just the edge of this immense expanse of snow, since our plane is flying over the middle of it.

These three glaciers were impressively long, and created a lake containing thousands of icebergs. I’d love to know what the name of this glacier is, and see images captured from a boat on that lake.

Now we have reached the truly exciting part of this blog post. In this image we have Torres Del Paine National Park, Nordenskjöld Lake, and Sarmiento Lake. We will be staying at Tierra Patagonia Lodge, on the northeastern edge of Lake Sarmiento.

I took another shot of the upper right corner of Lake Sarmiento, cropped it in even more, and now we can just make out the Tierra Patagonia Lodge. The building has an amazing architectural design, and is a semi-underground building that blends into the landscape. Here we can only see the reflection of the long S-curved glass windows that provide a spectacular view of the Torres.

Here we have some close up views of Torres Del Paine National Park. I gazed at these mountains every day for a week, dreaming about the views from the top of these spires, which were not even climbed until the 1950′s and 1960′s. This airplane view provides a small glimpse of a different perspective of the terrain that lies in the upper reaches of the park.

These are the iconic spires of the Torres.

This week I will continue blogging our hiking and biking adventures from the park and the estancia ranches of southern Patagonia. Thanks for reading.