During the
latter part of 1982, I had the opportunity to visit Chile and see for
myself the cacti growing in their natural environment, those same plants
that I had grown and studied for many years. Having declared an intention
to go, the next problem was, where? Geographically Chile is unique, very
narrow but over 4200 km long. The cacti occur over about half this length,
from south of Santiago to the northern border with Peru. Many of the
plants are coastal or follow the numerous valleys that run from the Andes
down to the sea. Despite the narrow band of country that these plants grow
in, it would not be possible to tackle more than a small area within my
time scale.
Of the
options open to me I decided to join Fred Katterman an a trip to the
Tarapaca region. Fred had been to Chile five times previously but never
before further north than Antofagasta. Neither of us knew too much of the
region as it is only met within the cactus literature very occasionally.
There appeared to be around a dozen species there according to Ritter and
most of these he considered rare. The terrain we knew would be harsh; we
could expect few places where we could replenish food, water, or petrol.
We would therefore have to carry plenty of reserves; this, we decided,
meant taking two vehicles, a decision which was later to be our salvation.
I left
England with as
light a pack
as I could, bearing in mind I would be in the field same eight weeks.
Travelling light has problems; my camping equipment weighed 10 kilos,
camera equipment 5 kilos and that left very little for clothing! Clothes
were a problem; they had to be suitable for the extremes we were to
encounter in temperature and be strong enough to withstand the rigours of
this type of travelling without requiring too much attention like washing!
I arrived
a week ahead of the Kattermans in an attempt to become accustomed to the
climate and people of Chile. I also hoped to do some field work close to
Santiago.
The flight had been long but comfortable; the highlight coming as we
crossed the magnificent Andes still capped in snow. I was soon to learn
that it had been a particularly wet winter in this region, one of the
wettest on record. That evening, I had dinner with Adriana Hoffman, a
botanist who was now involved in producing a field guide of the Chilean
Flora. The task in hand was to produce a field guide on Chilean
Cactaceae and with this in mind she had decided to join us an our trip
north. She had arranged a couple of field trips for me and got under way
the required permits to enable me to collect and export certain specimens.
During both the early and latter part of my stay in Chile much of my time
was taken up in pursuing this very essential documentation and carrying
out our import requirements, sanitary inspection, etc.
My first
field trip was to an area around Valparaiso. Adriana had arranged to meet
some friends and we would journey to Quintay on the coast, studying the
Flora en route. As we left Santiago the cacti were soon evident; the low
hills were covered with Trichocereus chilensis - they had even
re-introduced themselves amongst the fruit trees on the fertile plateau.
Having met up with Adriana‘s friends we left the main Pan American Highway
along a narrow dirt road leading to Quintay. The early vegetation
consisted of introduced pines, occasionally giving way to the true nature
of the area by the appearance of Puya chilensis amongst the pines. After
several stops to photograph the numerous wild flowers, more evident than
usual because of the high winter rainfall, we stopped at a sight known to
Otto Zolner as the habitat of a rare orchid species. Otto, like Adriana,
had an interest in all forms of plant life which made for a particularly
refreshing trip. The other member of our small party was Mario Pino, an
entomologist who seemed happy anywhere as long as there was something he
could bash with his stick and collect the falling insects in his enormous
net!
Mario had a good knowledge of cacti as he had spent same time in the field
with Lembcke.
The area
we were in reminded me of England, very green, rolling hills with cattle
grazing against a backdrop of the pine forest. Imagine my surprise,
therefore, when, whilst searching for the elusive orchid I came across
Pyrrhocactus horridus (RMF 1) - a small colony of about six plants growing
an a slightly raised area amongst various shrubs and the invariable
Puya chilensis. The population was too sparse to stand collecting, but
I did find a couple of small seedlings that had become dislodged due to
sail erosion.
From there
we made our way towards Quintay but we were brought to an abrupt halt a
few kilometres from the coast. The now very narrow road had been made
impassable as a result of the winter rains washing great channels in it.
The walk to the sea would not be far and it took us over almost typical
English moors, fairly fiat with occasional shrubs. As we descended from
the cliff tops, Neoporteria subgibbosa (RMF 2) came into view. lt
never grew over the cliff line but was abundant an the slopes and the
craggy rocks that rose out of the sandy beach. Most examples were in
flower to the delight of a visiting hummingbird which never stayed in one
place long enough to be photographed. The vegetation of this area would
seem to support hummingbirds but this was not always the case at other
Neoporteria sites I visited later. From here we travelled further
north along the coast where we found Trichocereus litoralis. The
Neoporteria subgibbosa was again here among rocks and the brickwork of
an old whaling station. Our return journey took us via Casablanca where we
had hoped to find Pyrrhocactus on the surrounding hills. Once more
the area was untypically lush and our searches were in vain.
During the
next few days I made visits to the hills and mountains around Santiago,
spending a fair amount of time along the Rio Mapocho valley and the Rio
Colorado valley. I collected plants in the Mapocho valley (RMF 3) that I
believed to be the original Echinocactus curvispinus Bertero. There
remains same doubt, however, as others believe this plant to be Ritter‘s
Pyrrhocactus andicolus. I found this plant throughout both valleys up to
1,800 meters and later near the end of my stay I also found it at El Volcan
(RMF 80) at an altitude of 1,800 meters. At this last site I also found
Erdisia spiniflora (RMF 81) growing some 200 m higher on the summit of a
hill. The vegetation between the last Pyrrhocactus and the Erdisia
consisted of low shrubs and fairly abundant bulbs like Phicella ignea
(Amaryllidaceae) but no further cactus. Upon reaching the flat crown of
the mountain I found the Erdisia growing under low shrubs. lt was
only visible by the new reddish growth but it was not until I was an top of
it that it gave itself away. Much of the old growth had been frost damaged
and a quick scan round showed that this area must receive snow during the
winter. The terrain throughout this area and that of the Colorado valley
appeared much drier than the Mapocho valley where I experienced mist that
not only restricted ones view but was dense enough to soak me to the skin.
The very abundant Trichocereus chilensis had water dripping from its
spines. Trichocereus chilensis is common throughout both valleys
where it is often covered by Phrygilanthus aphyllus, a quite
attractive parasite.
The time had
now approached for the main trip to commence; Adriana had had the Land Rover
serviced, new tyres fitted and a trailer purchased to enable us to carry
more supplies. We made our way to Valparaiso
where we were to meet Fred Katterman, passing yet more Trichocereus
chilensis en route. Unfortunately Chilean servicing appears to be little
better than ours and we started to experience fuel problems on our way. A
day‘s delay resulted whilst the Land Rover received a further check up. We
spent a day visiting the collection of a Mr. Soni who had, besides a
marvelous cactus collection, outdoor gardens representing many parts of the
world including a huge patch of English roses. The following day we left
Valparaiso for the north, stopping en route to visit Rudolp Wagenknecht at
his home in La Serena. His collecting days are long over and his cactus
collection has gone but he still retains his great knowledge and many
photographs. We made camp that night a few kilometres north of La Serena
among the clumps of Copiapoa coquimbana. I was soon to learn of the
frailty of tent pegs supplied with lightweight camping equipment.
As dawn
broke I made my way into the hills where the night before Adriana had found
Neoporteria wagenknechtii. I found several small specimens (RMF 6) on
a hill facing north in sight of the ocean, the altitude being no more than
100 m. We made a further stop same 20 km onward at the Cuesta Buenos Aires
and here I found Pyrrhacactus chorosensis (RMF 7). lts very large tap
root made it difficult to extract the plants from the crevices they were
growing in without causing the head to break from the narrow neck. I settled
in fact for removing two plants intact and simply removing the heads from
another couple. This improvisation was necessary an account of the very
close attention that a swarm of hover flies were paying me! The heads I
removed should root down without much problem; it is standard practice to do
this, and hopefully there will be sufficient neck left an the remaining
roots to offset. We were soon to come across Austrocylindropuntia
miquelii and Eulychnia breviflora both in flower, so too was
Cumulopuntia berteri at El Dolpha and Copiapoa coquimbana at Los
Choros. However, the area was becoming much drier with the barren red hills
the dominant feature of the landscape. Little else grew between here and
Copiapó apart from the cactus. I collected Copiapoa coquimbana (RMF
8) fourteen km south of Vallenar and also photographed
Austrocylindropuntia miquelii in flower.
Upon passing Copiapó the road once more headed towards the coast; we had last seen the
Pacific Ocean same 300 km back at La Serena. After a slight delay at the
efficient S.A.G. Control at Caldera we made our way up the coast to look bar
a campsite. From the road we spotted a large area of Copiapoas and
despite the lateness of the afternoon, we decided to stop and take a look.
Copiapoa calderana (RMF 9) was the dominant species here along with
examples of Copiapoa marginata (RMF 10). Almost the entire population
of both species had been badly damaged, particularly the older clumps. The
cause of this damage was not obvious, there was no sign of rock falls as
most of the plants were an the flat coastal belt and a fair way from the
cliffs, and no sign that the damage was inflicted by animals. Before our
eyes lay hundreds of mutilated plants many of which were well over a hundred
years old, all with stems broken off. Further along the road, no more than a
few hundred metres, is a fast developing holiday centre - could this be the
cause, directly or indirectly? lt is certainly my belief that the damage was
willful and destructive.
As the night
drew in we made camp at Pta. Flamenco; I pitched my tent alongside
Eulychnia Saint-pieana which in habitat is not the white woolly plant we
grow in our greenhouses. lt is in fact very similar to E. breviflora
and I suspect similar also to E. barquitensis; I say “suspect“
because the plants I found at Barquito did not appear to be any different to
all the other Eulychnias which I had previously seen. In the now fast
fading light, preliminary searches were made for Thelocephala malleolata
v. solitaria which Ritter reports from this site. lt was difficult to
imagine that something as delicate as T. malleolata could be found
amongst the large gravel in what is obviously an extremely arid area, yet
grow it does and I was lucky enough to find same specimens. Collecting
however, would have to wait until morning when we would have more time to
ascertain the strength and variation of the population.
On the
following morning photography proved as difficult as the night before; the
sky was extremely dull and overcast. Mist had rolled in from the ocean at a
height well above us but it was dense enough to cause light problems far the
camera. The plants where we were, at sea level, did not seem to derive any
benefit from this fog, possibly accounting for the very poor condition of
the plants at sea level here. The two globular cacti of this area both have
very distinctive tap roots and were always found level with the soil. A
number of Thelocephala malleolate were found, both singular and
clustering and for this reason I find the varietal name of solitaria
unacceptable; furthermore I could see no difference between these plants and
the type specimens. The other globular plant here was much scarcer,
Copiapoa longispina, and very few live specimens were found. The plants
have an extremely narrow neck joining the head to the tap root and it proved
impossible to keep the complete plant intact throughout our journey.
The journey
from here to our overnight stop of Calama took us through same of the driest
areas of Chile. The landscape became quite monotonous, dull brown hills and
plains with no sign of life whatsoever, punctuated by only the few
remarkable oasis that exist wherever the rivers have sufficient water that
can be used to irrigate the otherwise barren land. There are not too many
rivers that manage to carry water from the high Andes to their coastal
destination but where they do, little villages appear in the valleys and
decorate the landscape with narrow bands of greenery. Calama is quite a
large town but owes its very existence to the river Loa that runs along its
outskirts. The river here is quite vigorous and, in keeping with the
increased altitude, very cold. As we made camp that night we were reminded
that the nights in the higher altitudes bring with them a particularly fresh
cold.
The
following morning we set off to perhaps the most remarkable of all the oases
in this part of the world, San Pedro de Atacama. The terrain between Calama
and San Pedro is practically lifeless with some very strange lunar-like
scenery. Near to San Pedro we saw Cumulopuntia tortispina for the
first time. lt has however a wide distribution at altitudes of between 2850
m and around 4000 m and forms quite sizeable mounds as Ritter‘s new generic
name suggests. Several examples were in flower and quite a few still had
fruits enmeshed in the very tight spination. Generally it grew with little
other vegetation except the coarse tuft grasses.
The sight of
the green San Pedro de Atacama as one approaches from the dry desert is
truly quite remarkable. Introduced trees and palms give quite a false
impression of its surroundings. The village itself has a first class museum
which, together with its church, brings what few visitors the area sees. Our
attraction however was to see Trichocereus atacamensis which grows to
the north of the village along the Quebrada del Diablo. Having done the
tourist bit in San Pedro, including identifying the various cacti that the
museum had collected locally, we set off for the Quebrada. Trichocereus
atacamensis (RMF 95) grew an the steep sides of the numerous valleys at
around 3400 m along with Oreocereus leucotrichus and a couple of
species of Cumulopuntia, tortispina and (?)hystrix. The
Oreocereus were generally in very poor condition and gave the impression
that the climate was becoming too dry for their survival. Moreover it had to
contend, along with the Trichocereus, with the ravaging of its fruits
by larvae, which results in very few seeds reaching maturity. The lava egg
is laid within the fleshy fruit whilst it is still developing and the grub
which hatches out eats the entire contents of the fruit. Although I found
several fruit in this area very few contained viable seeds; in fact the only
seed I did collect was from the Trichocereus and that was after
removing the grub! An interesting Tephrocactus was found high on the
flat ground near to the road at 3250 m. The species is unknown to me,
although I suspect that it could be Maihueniopsis conoidea (RMF 13).
lt has very little growth above ground, small cylindrical heads of ca. 2 cm
in length, but has an enormous tuber underground. Very few specimens were
found.
I had not
seen my colleagues for quite some time and returned to the Land Rover to
make contact. Whilst awaiting their return or arrival I noticed the trailer
we had been towing was leaning heavily to one side. Upon inspection I realised that the suspension had gone and the offside tyre had worn itself
bald and damaged the trailer body to such an extent that I had no
alternative but to dump the complete trailer. Having completed the transfer
of the equipment from the trailer to the Land Rover, I decided to backtrack
in the Land Rover to look for the absent friends. They were found some 5 km
back, as a result of the camper breaking down. The coil had gone and
fortunately we had a replacement, but already we had cause to verify the
wisdom of travelling with two vehicles. We camped that night on the Quebrada
del Diablo at 4200 m amongst the Cumulopuntias. Next morning we set
off for the Geiser del Tatio and it took practically all day to complete the
seventy km. The going was tough an both vehicles and fuel starvation became
a real problem; the Land Rover with its four wheel drive fared betted than
the camper and was often needed to push the camper back into life as it
strived to climb the increasing heights. Not one single hill proved a problem
- it was more a case of the gradual but regular climb. We reached El Tatio
that night and were allowed to camp in the now disused mining quarters. The
next morning, we were to be up around five o‘clock in order to see the
Geysers at their best. That night, however, was to prove the worst of the
trip. All four of us had headaches as a result of the rarified air at this
altitude (4400 m); the evening meal we prepared was very Iight but even so I
was extremely sick. Throughout the night I endured a splitting headache and
heart pounding. lt was not therefore a question of waking up the next
morning since I never slept, but I must admit that I needed a gentle push to
start me on my way to the highest geyser field in the world. I had seen
these geysers an the T.V. film “The flight of the Condor“ and the events of
the previous night were very much the same as outlined in the book on the
film series by Michael Andrews. Pillars of steam rose from the ground and on
the edge of the resulting water pools heat resistant algae formed in
marvelous colour. On the edge of this basin grew Cumulopuntia and at
this time of the morning they had a covering of ice.
The return
journey to Calama was downhill and therefore would not be such a strain an
our vehicles. Nevertheless both had developed faults which needed attention
and our petrol situation was near desperate. This meant that we could not
make too many stops on the return journey for fear of reaching Calama too
late in the day. We did stop east of Caspana where Fred noticed a group of
“different cactus“. They were infact Soehrensia uebelmannianus; I
regret that I never saw them, perhaps because my attentions had turned to
the numerous Alpacas and Llamas that feed on the high puna. I was also
fortunate enough to see Darwin‘s rhea, a single bird who did not hang about
long enough to be photographed. I stopped further along the road nearer to
Caspana and collected seed from Oreocereus leucotrichus (RMF 96).
Here the population was much healthier and there were a number of seedlings
evident. Trichocereus atacamensis was again evident but I regret that
we were unable to find further populations of the Soehrensia. We made
Calama virtually on fumes and made arrangements to have the repairs carried
out to the vehicles. The fuel pump had gone on the Land Rover and although
we could not obtain a replacement we were able to find an alternative
electric pump that the garage could use. Here in Chile life is a little
different to England; it is up to the customer to obtain the parts he wants
fitted, the garage merely fits them!
After a
further two nights at Calama, we made our way north to Pisagua. The road
from the main
Pan American Highway
towards Pisagua was typically Chilean. The numerous potholes dotted about
the road made driving very difficult the more so as this particular road had
a habit of disappearing. This was still the dry, lifeless Atacama Desert
where nothing grew; it is a long flat plain devoid of anything. The ocean
came within sight and Pisagua lay down below us, a small caleta which
typified many of the tiny villages along the coast. Before making our
descent we decided to take a couple of exploratory walks to see if we could
spot the Eulychnias that typified the area. We met with no success;
all we could see was barren cliffs. Upon reaching the village we made
enquiries about the location of cacti in the area. Despite showing several
of the villagers Ritter‘s illustration and our own plants that we had
collected elsewhere, nobody knew of a single cactus. We had to register with
the police here and again we asked the same question. This time the reply
was more emphatic, in the seven years this policeman had been stationed here
he had never seen a cactus, not even as he travelled up and down the coast
line by boat. How then could we get to other possible locations along the
coast? This we were told was no longer possible as the only road out of
Pisagua was the one we had used in getting here. There was once a narrow
road that travelled south for about twenty km but this was no longer open. I
was particularly anxious to search this area as Lau reportedly found
Neochilenia iquiquensis (L804) here. We made several attempts to travel
south via the desert but each time we reached the coast we were greeted by
the same barren cliffs that existed back at Pisagua. But it was on one of
these sorties that we spotted through our field glasses what we thought
might be Eulychnia. At first they looked like a few upright poles but
as we travelled further it became evident that they were indeed Eulychnia.
Returning to
the Land Rover we headed in their direction across the vast sandy plains
weaving our way round, up and down the many ravines that crossed this area.
We could not get any closer to the coast than about two km but here we left
the Land Rover to make our way an foot. Fred and Adriana went in one
direction and I made a separate journey in a more southerly direction. Upon
reaching the coast I found nothing; I scanned the horizon in both directions
for signs of Eulychnia, but again nothing. I had seen far away to the south
a high bank of cloud hovering over the cliffs and decided to aim for what
appeared to be a small caleta. Distance is deceptive in these parts and I
walked for several hours before I could be sure that there were plants
there. They were still a long way off but I decided having come so bar that
I would continue my walk. The problem here was that I had to walk three km
to get one km nearer, for the ravines were deep and winding. The last few km
were travelled at a record pace as I realised that the hitherto dots were
indeed Eulychnia. They were actually within the mist limit on very
steep cliff slopes and my descent had to be slow and cautious in order to
retain a footing an the lose rocks. Furthermore the slope was so shear that
it was almost straight.
The
Eulychnias here were not like the earlier plants I had seen at La
Serena; here they were taller and much stronger in the trunk. They were
also, bar the best part, dead! Very few of the specimens I saw were alive
and those that were, were holding on by a narrow line. All the plants had a
type of moss or algae clinging to the stems which at times completely
enveloped the whole plant. This competition for the extremely scarce water
supply was obviously one reason for the Eulychnias lack of health.
Despite very lengthy searching I was unable to find any sign of globular
cacti throughout this area. As I made my way laboriously back to the cliff
tops my clumsy efforts came to the attention of two condors who not only
came closer for
a look but presumably did not rate highly my chances of survival. The walk
back to base seemed eternal as it often does when you return empty handed.
The others had been back for same time and had started to become concerned
about my welfare, concerned enough to sink a bottle of wine over discussions
of what to do! They had found the Eulychnia stand we had spotted
earlier but all the plants were dead. Fred had found a Tephrocactus
and a single Neochilenia iquiquensis but despite a lot of searching
he could not add to that tally. We returned to Pisagua tired and defeated.
A further
search was made at Caleta Junin but produced nothing. The area itself was
extremely strange. lt was the site where mining had been carried out and the
remains of much of the equipment laid strewn over a small area. The vicinity
of the cliff top there had been planted out with several species of shrub
and palm but all were now dead. When we arrived, the fag was extremely
dense, hanging from the remnants like huge spiders‘ webs. Having decided
that we had spent enough time in searching for our elusive N. iquiquensis
it was now time to make for
Arica
where we would reprovision for the trip east to Putre. We had also hoped to
receive permission to visit Cabo Lobos to search for Neochilenia
aricensis but despite concerted efforts only Adriana was allowed to make
the trip. The whole area is now a strong military base and they do not take
kindly to foreigners trouping round their closely guarded quarters. Adriana
was allowed to visit on the basis of being a Chilean native, she was however
escorted throughout by two military personnel. She succeeded only in finding
several small specimens of Eulychnia aricensis. Having failed to
convince the Army to let us loose around the cliff tops, Adriana then set
about the Navy! They kindly agreed to take us by boat from Arica to just
south of Cabo Lobos if we came back on Sunday! We arrived at the Arica docks
early Sunday morning to be met by the Captain and his two crew members who
were to take us out for the day. The boat turned out to be a military gun
boat complete with guns that were unwrapped and loaded as we left the quay.
Never before have I been so well behaved. The journey was extremely
interesting and we spotted several small stands of Eulychnia high up
at the top of the cliffs. These were clearly not accessible from the beach
anymore than the area where we disembarked at Caleta Vitor. There was
nothing else for it but to sunbathe under the watchful eye of the military.
Clearly then if Neochilenia aricensis still exists it has developed a
unique conservation tactic, the Chilean military!
Monday
morning we left
Arica
for the east having enjoyed three nights in the comfort of a local hotel; it
was good to sleep well and be able to bath twice a day. Following the valley
basin along which the Rio Lluta runs we made for Poconchile to search for
lslaya krainziana. The hills on both sides of the valley were completely
bare of vegetation and consisted of very fine sand making climbing
exceedingly difficult. We knew that somewhere here I. krainziana
existed for Ritter‘s description and photographs indicated just such a
terrain even though we found it difficult to believe that any plant could
exist in such a harsh environment. After several fruitless sorties, I found
the plant growing, or perhaps merely existing, in two very localised patches
tucked neatly into spots where whatever mist that managed to make its way
along the valley would be sure to reach. The condition of the plants
indicated that such incidents were very infrequent but each plant was
uniquely adapted to take advantage of whatever moisture there was available.
All the plants grew facing towards the crown of the hills and were almost
prostrated, thus maximising the area on which the dew could settle. The
roots were long but very shallow, the sand in which they grew was so loose
that by merely grasping the head and gently pulling, it was possible to
remove them complete with roots. The memory of sitting amongst these plants
and scanning the barren hills set against the green sward of the valley
floor will long remain in my memory. I now fully understand the notes I
received from Karel Knize when I imported some of these plants - “No Wasser“
for clearly these plants come from the driest of all cacti habitats; to me
their mere survival was among the most incredible sights I witnessed on this
trip.
Having
washed the sand from ourselves and bathed in the cool Rio Lluta we headed
for Cuesta Cameros where we made camp for the night. As the road climbed to
around 2250 m we saw for the first time the only cactus known to most of the
locals, Browningia candelaris (RMF 17). The terrain was now very
rocky but with little vegetation other than the cactus. The distribution
range of Browningia appears to lie between 2000 - 2800 m, always in
very barren areas. Our guide informed us that this area never receives rain;
the rain bearing clouds carry the moisture over until it reaches the border
where rainfall can be quite severe. The name candelaris typifies the mode of
growth of these plants; the characteristic candelabras are held above a
single stem which appears to become almost spineless on the top growth prior
to offsetting. Similarly the offsets/branches are very often almost
spineless; a single stem could quite easily be mistaken for a cylindrical
Opuntia. Solitary non-branching specimens were observed but very few
small young plants were encountered. I did find several dead Haageocereus
which once
again indicated that the area was becoming much drier.
Climbing the Cuesta still further we came across a superb Tephrocactus (RMF 18) at
2900 m. A single specimen, which I could not identify, grew on a hill with
no other vegetation in sight. Despite extensive searching, I could not
locate a second specimen, yet clearly there should have been as this plant
had set seed. lt was a mound forming plant, probably Cumulopuntia,
with fierce long red spines some 12 cm long. Each pad was about 5 cm in
diameter and this particular clump was about 80 cm across. Continuing on, we
came across the first Corryocactus brevistylus, which was
later to typify much of this region. Whilst I found both fruit and flowers,
I confess that I never saw a “good“ specimen of Corryocactus
throughout the trip, hence I took very few slides of this particular plant.
lts altitude range appears to be from about 2500 m to 3500 m. Oreocereus
leucotrichus was now becoming quite significant in terms of vegetation;
several forms were observed throughout this region but only really differed
in regard to strength and colour of spination and by the density of the
wool. One such variant was observed near Tignamar and had the strongest
yellow spination I have ever seen. Unlike other habitats where the various
forms grow together, this particular area had only the one form. In
appearance it was much like the Oreocereus which I first encountered
further south around San Pedro, although the spination was much stronger,
probably on account of the terrain. A good number of the Oreocereus
were in flower and fruit and their general condition was much better than
their more southern relations. The range of this species was from 3300 m to
3800 m but very widely distributed.
Sharing much
the same distribution zone as the two preceding species is Arequipa
hempelina. Equally as
common, it is always found in association with both Oreocereus and
Corryocactus in fairly open areas i.e. without the cover of other
vegetation. Both single plants and sizeable clumps were encountered
throughout its distribution, the largest clump I recall was about half a
metre across, with the main head perhaps 250 mm long. I collected
Arequipa at various localities - Parianacota, Putre, Zapahuira, Belen,
Tignamar and finally from the very margin of its distribution 76 km from
Arica in an area known only as The Atacama. Here it grew with a surprising
mimicry with Haageocereus fascicularis (RMF 34). My visit coincided
with the flowering season of Oreocereus but I never found any
evidence of flowering amongst the Arequipa - no sing of buds, flower
remains, or fruit
- perhaps nature‘s way of ensuring that these two similar floral
characteristics do not get a chance to cross or hybridise in the wild. You
will note from the specific names I use for Oreocereus and
Arequipa that I side with Ritter‘s conclusion in regards to Philippi‘s
Echinocactus leucotrichus being an Oreocereus and not, as many
have proposed, an Arequipa. The original Philippi description is very
brief but there are certain points that seem to rule out the plant being an
Arequipa. Nowhere did I find an Arequipa with wool some 50 cm
long or covered in white wool, as
Philippi describes. Furthermore he also described Cereus
(Trichocereus) atacamensis from the same region and in my experience
this plant only grew in association with Oreocereus and
Tephrocactus. Had
Philippi
found the plant we call Arequipa then quite clearly he would also
have found Oreocereus.
Neowerdermannia has a narrower distribution in this area and generally
grows beneath other shrub-like vegetation. lt is however very frequent as
far as the plant Karel Knize calls N. chilensis v. putrensis is
concerned. This variety is justified as far as I am concerned for it differs
substantially from the plant Backeberg described as Neowerdermannia
chilensis. Taking the latter first, I found this plant only near
Tignamar (RMF 13). lt is a small plant, no more than 6 cm in diameter, with
an obvious tap root. Backeberg describes the flower as white, but at the
time of my visit the plants had finished flowering and were in fruit. The
other form, which I found at Putre, Zapahuira, Belen and to the north of
Tignamar around 3300-3500 m was a much larger plant, up to 25 cm diameter
without a tap root and with a clear yellow flower. The Neowerdermannias
appear to be more particular in regard to habitat sites, most areas where I
found them were fertile with a wealth of other vegetation. These sites
obviously suited them well as nearly every specimen I observed was plump,
fresh and in flower and/or fruit. They often occurred with Arequipa
but this was generally at the end of their range of distribution and here
the plants would be drawn deeper into the soil.
Arequipa
are less selective in their choice of sites, provided they were somewhat
open. Rarely did I find them among the Neowerdermannia strongholds
even though the distance would be no more than a couple of hundred metres
between what was typical Arequipa growing areas and the typical
Neowerdermannia habitat. lt was not uncommon to find Arequipa
amongst strong limestone areas; the plants I collected north of Belen (RMF
27) came from a very marked limestone area. Neowerdermannia chilensis
(RMF 31) grew in a very open terrain not far from the site of the strongly
spined Oreocereus mentioned above. In this terrain there was precious
little other vegetation to afford these plants the protection they seem to
enjoy.
On most maps
you will not find a road linking Belen with Tignamar but we were assured
that the hitherto track was in good enough condition at this time of year to
allow us to make such a journey. Needless to say the journey proved quite
eventful. The road had not been constructed for vehicles and some of the
climbs together with hairpin bends proved too much for the camper. Without
four wheel drive I doubt if my Land Rover would have made it either. On a
couple of occasions the Land Rover had to push the camper very slowly up the
incline before it could one more use its own power. On one particular steep
incline even this proved to be insufficient; furthermore there was no room
to turn round and to descend backwards would be very dangerous. We had no
choice therefore but to strip the camper of all its contents and remove the
large gas cylinder attached to the underside in order to lighten it as much
as possible. The spare wheel was fastened to the Land Rover front end to use
as a buffer for pushing the camper uphill. Very slowly we gained momentum
until the top was reached and the camper was once again under way on its own
power. This was to prove our last reminder of just how essential two or more
vehicles were in this region, for help does not exist close to hand.
Villages are a good distance apart and natives are rarely encountered
outside their villages. Supplies in these villages are very basic; we were
unable to get bread or food of any description in the “towns“ of Belen and
Tignamar.
Having
resolved our problems we headed for Arica where we would spend a further
couple of days in the luxury of a hotel and replenish our depleted stores to
enable us to make the return journey to Santiago. The road, as it twisted
through the Quebrada Camina, Quebrada Tignamar, and Quebrada da Vizcacha,
gave us our last sight of the magnificent Oreocereus. The hills
facing north were particularly densely populated to the extent that one
could truthfully say that they were clothed in Oreocereus.
Arequipa were also presented here, as was Corryocactus, but no
Neowerdermannia were found. lt was along the Quebrada da Vizcacha that
we made our last stops as we searched for good specimens of Haageocereus
and to discover how far west the Arequipas reached. Both plants were
collected by me some 76 km from Arica, that is 55 km to the Pan American
Highway. Cacti continued in the form of Browningia for a further 15
km (altitude 3500 m) before the sterile Atacama desert took hold, making the
last part of the journey both monotonous and boring.
We left Arica and headed for lquique where we spent another fruitless day searching
for the elusive northern Pyrrhocactus. This time however we were
granted military approval to search along the coast line; Eulychnias
were found but nothing else. Again we learnt of the continuing drought that
affects this area. A heavy rainfall forty years ago had caused extensive
flood damage as the rain rolled down the hills and cliffs that stand behind
the town of lquique. Fears that this could happen again were voiced several
times but little had been done to protect the town; little appears to be
possible indeed as the ground which has not seen rain since that time has
become almost like concrete.
Leaving
Iquique by the coast road we made a few further searches for the elusive
Pyrrhocactus without success. Wherever we found Eulychnia it
seemed worth a look but these plants grow in terrain where a look can mean
several hours of climbing. One such climb north of Pta. Lobos occupied an
hour and a half to ascend a gradual incline of little more than three or
four hundred metres. The descent was much quicker for I simply slid down.
Eulychnias were for the best part growing in pure sand although
they attained much
firmer
footings higher up the slope The terrain reminded me of the habitat of
lslaya krainziana.
At Cta.
Guanillos del Norte we came across Eulychnia after several hours of
climbing and walking. Here for the first time were encountered signs of
Pyrrhocactus but were unable to
find
any living specimens. It is the type locality for P. saxifraga and
from what we saw it was fairly obvious that quite a large population had
once inhabited the otherwise barren land; now all that appears to exist is
the Eulychnia. Although not terribly vigorous the Eulychnia
seem able to survive where the mist reaches; the slopes
facing
the coast are a particularly
favourite
location provided it is steep with little other vegetation, and so are the
flat,
narrow valleys behind the cliffs.
The most northem Pyrrhocactus that I encountered in good health was south of
Tocopilla almost at sea level. The plants (RMF 36, 37) I identified
as P. residuus and grew in clefts on the rocks facing the sea.
Eulychnia also grew here in some abundance. The plants I collected
came from
a small inlet that formed
a break in the cliffs and grew on both sides, benefitting
from the moisture that the mist would deposit on the rocks. The next site
we made for was Cerro Moreno and I confess
that if I had not been told that plants grew there I would never have
spent a moment searching. We had to cross miles of desert waste land as we
made our way from the road towards the coast. Nowhere did this seem to be
cactus country, no sign of the now familiar landmarks such as the steep
coastal slopes. We were by now at sea level and the land between us and
the sea was flat
and lifeless. After several hours of driving across the wasteland we came
to the coast but it was now time to make camp. The
'Cerro‘
lay before
us and although of no significant height would be best tackled with a lull
day in front of us. The following morning was extremely cold as the clouds
completely hid the sun from us all day; even at midday I was surprised
just how cold it could be without the benefit of the sun.
As we made
our way up the gentle slopes, Copiapoa boliviana became extremely
common, large multi-headed clumps with tuberous roots. Few were in
flower but the
Eulychnia had several fat healthy buds apparently only a
few
days oft flowering. The area was covered with various lichens illustrating
that this was a particular damp locality. Damp, but rarely wet, as the
moisture here does not appear to extend to supporting
flora
other than cacti. Apart from some dormant twig-like vegetation amongst the
cacti, all the other vegetation was restricted to the few gulleys between
the hills at the lowest altitude. In this area the goal was to
find
Ritter‘s Pyrrhocactus vexatus, described
only recently in his Kakteen in Sudamerika Vol. 3 but cultivated since its
discovery in 1960. It was to prove an extremely difficult plant to
find,
but find
it we did on a few flat
areas where there was a fair depth of soil. The plant grows flush with the
ground, heads mostly solitary up to 2 cm in diameter, with a large
tuberous root. Extraction was very difficult on account of the narrow neck
and it was interesting to note that most specimens were in bud. This plant
appears to be as much a Thelocephala as a Pyrrhocactus. It
has all the characteristics of Thelocephala although I have yet to
see flowers or fruit. Nevertheless it shows just how fine are the generic
divisions of Ritter.
Our next
stop was to be El Cobre, which like many other place names, exists only as
a map reference, for there is no town or village. Despite the names we
have been accustomed to reading in the cactus literature, our route Irom
Antofagasta to Taltal via the coastal road only passed one very tiny
settlement at Paposo; for instance Blanco Encalada is known to most
cactophiles, as is El Cobre, but there is no settlement or road signs to
advise the traveller where he is. We only realised we were approaching El
Cobre when the large mounds visible high in the hill were recognised as
Copiapoa solaris. As the road winds towards the coast,
the hills either side must enjoy the benefits of the coastal mists as they
roll inland through these gulleys. The Copiapoa, scarce at
first,
becoming more frequent nearer the sea, are the only vegetation to be seen.
My first encounter was to be a sad one for the large clumps visible from
the road in great numbers were all found to be dead upon close inspection.
Still perfectly formed but apparently attacked by some virus, their decay
would presumably have been a slow process. After making such a joumey to
this spot, followed by a tiring climb, only to
find
each clump you booked at was dead, the hollow feeling one senses
cannot
really be put into words. Fortunately this was to be the only site we
visited where the plants were like this; at all the other sites there were
healthy populations of surprising size both in terms of quantity and of
individual clump
size. Clumps of one hundred heads were
not uncommon,
which is really quite remarkable considering the slow rate of growth of
these plants. It was difficult to
find
single heads or small clumps
but this was almost certainly due to collecting activity rather than a
quirk of nature. It was to be the only area I visited where heavy
collecting must have occurred; there were several indications that
professional traders had been active here. The plant population will
probably stand this as there are still many thousands of plants still
left; however it is still a problem especially as flowering is rare even
in habitat and hence rejuvenation is all that much slower.
Having
made camp here that night we left the vehicles on the following morning
to search for Pyrrhocactus glaucescens, as well as spending more
time with the remarkable Copiapoa solaris. I was fortunate enough
to find
the Pyrrhocactus growing amongst rocks and on ledges on the side of
one narrow valley - fortunate, since the other members did not
find
it despite extensive searching. I found several specimens, the largest of
which was no more than 7 cm diameter; all were typically squat with the
epidermis a strange muddy colour. Possibly on account of better localized
growing conditions
some were more
greyish, yet still with the muddy brown tinge. I found no evidence of
flower or fruit here. In addition to these two cacti and the odd
Eulychnia there was no other vegetation in that area.
In order
to continue down the coast we had first to drive
inland along
the road which brought us to the coast, in the hope of picking up the
track that led to the map reference Blanco Encalada. As we left behind the
last Copiapoas the land became truly barren and it was not until we
had made a turn
towards the coast and started to descend that we came across more stands
of Pilocopiapoa. The altitude here, 600 m, was much the same as at
El Cobre, but the plants displayed minor difference. Firstly the
clumps
were nowhere as big as those at El Cobre and many of them had
longer,
lighter spines, yet they were in fact the plants that Knize calls var.
luteispina. There was also a large number of smaller plants and
evidence of flowering. The condition of the plants throughout this area
made it obvious that they were enjoying a damper environment. Some
very beautiful Copiapoa boliviana (RMF 46) were also found growing
side by side with the C. solaris. Their beauty owed much to the
fact that they were in better condition than
their counterparts from Antofagasta;
in fact such was the
difference
that they could easily be mistaken for another species. It is also
interesting to note that whilst they were fairly abundant here I never
encountered a single specimen at El Cobre.
A few
hundred metres along the road we came across the superb Pyrrhocactus
floccosus growing amongst the rocks. Those we encountered first were
not so floccose as I had been accustomed to with cultivated plants but
later I was to find
several plants with a dense covering of wool. Again all were in
exceptional condition with several plants over 25 cm high. As we descended
towards the coast there were a few dormant woody shrubs amongst the cacti
and even the odd Bromeliad.
We reached
the coast and turned south to follow the coastline back to Taltal. At
first the terrain was completely barren but as we scanned the ground on
either side of the road - a fairly easy task as travel over these roads is
very slow - we noticed a very different
Copiapoa (RMF
53). Individual heads were 2.5 to 5 cm diameter and formed clumps of up to
30 heads. Single plants were uncommon but I found several with no more
than three heads. The body was typical Copiapoa grey with
reddish-brown hair felt in the crown, spines reddish to black, root
tuberous; most specimens were in flower.
This particular plant grew up to a few metres from the edge of the sea and
covered a fairly narrow bend on the flat
coastal
plain. Ritter describes Copiapoa variispina as coming from this area and I
have provisionally called by plants by that name; however, I confess that
I do not understand the term
"variispina“
in relation to this species as it was probably the most consistent form
that I found throughout the region.
As we made
our way along the coast, further larger Copiapoa became
increasingly common, growing mostly at the base of the rocks, in the sand.
Same 60 km north of Paposo we encountered the first of the Pyrrhocactus
from
this region. Ritter suggests that P. paucicostata is the most
northerly of the group that includes P. paucicostata and its
variety viridis, P. neohankeanus and its var. densispinus,
var. elongatus, and var. flaviflorus and finally P. taltalensis.
Of all
these names I could find
only two distinct forms,
firstly
P. paucicostata which included individual plants that were more
densely spined, more elongated, etc., etc., but no populations of dominant
forms and all forms appeared to have interbred with each other, and
secondly P. taltalensis which I found somewhat
later.
Much has
already been written about the Copiapoas of this region and there
is very little that I can add except to assure you of the remarkable sight
one is greeted with. lsolated specimens in the north give way to larger
clumps as one heads south; the size and quantity of these clumps around
Paposo has to be seen to be believed. Again several names have been
attached to various forms and there is certainly a huge variety of form;
C. haseltoniana and C. gigantea are quite distinct as forms
but what of the plants in between? Taxonomy had to take a back seat as I
marveled at the amazing quantity of plants growing
from
the shore-line
up the hills. The Copiapoa appeared to grow everywhere, whilst
Pyrrhocactus were more demanding in their requirements.
Eulychnia, Trichocereus and Euphorbia Iactilflua
were all dominant in various areas. My search for Copiapoa
humilis was in vain, caused
as
much by diversion of interest as by the scarcity of the plant.
The
coastal mists were once again very evident during our stay here, clearing
around 11:00
a.m. but once again even at this time of day there was rarely any moisture
on the plants and certainly not enough to penetrate the soil. Yet clearly
the plants do derive considerable
benefit from these fogs as
many of the Copiapoas, Pyrrhocactus, Tnchocereus
fulvilantatus,
Eulychnia breviflora
and Euphorbia
lactiflua were in flower
as
were the Bromeliads, a daisy-like plant,
as
well as
newly
germinated herb-like
plants.
Having
lunched at Taltal we moved
a
couple
of miles inland via the "Quebrade
La Cachina“, to a range of hills that run inland from Taltal
towards the interior. Along the Quebrada was the area known
as
Breas where Soehrens claimed there grew the plant which Philippi described
as
Echinocactus occultus. (Note Philippi says that the plant grows
from Copiapó to El Cobre along with the sea
shore, a point that has often been refuted since the original description
in 1860.) We made our way to where we thought Breas lay, according to our
map reference but later found out that Breas lay a further 10 km to the
east. We were given this information and also our exact location by the
local land owner, who told us about an American botanist who had visited
this site on several occasions some 20 years or so before; we speculated
that this was probably Paul Hutchinson. The first plants we came across
were Copiapoa cinerea, seemingly thousands of them in all shapes
and
sizes. A number of small plants were observed
as
well as sizeable clumps almost a meter across; many were in
flower
and
some had set fruit. I did manage to collect some seed but it was an
awkward plight to beat
the ants to it! The
Copiapoa throughout the region appear to stagger their flowering times
and thus it was not uncommon to
find
buds, flowers, fruit and seeds all within a limited population.
Again the Copiapoa did not seem to be too selective in its habitat
for it grew both on the flat
plain and on the gentle slopes of the hills. On the other hand the
Eulychnia preferred the gentle slopes as did the not quite so common
Trichocereus fulvilanatus. Also on the slopes were numerous Puya
and Bromeliads whilst the very rare Pyrrhocactus
taltalensis grew only at the base of large rocks.
The soil
here was a sandy loam covered with a
layer
of walnut sized granite-like stones. On the fIat plains we did lind
Pyrrhocactus occultus, but only after extensive searching. The name
truly epitomises this plant for it really is hidden, not just concealed as
are many of the Thelocephala that I found, but genuinely growing
completely below the surface, To
find
it we were forced to drop on to all
fours
and gently rub away the surface stone and soil before finding the plant; I
lost count of
the number of times that this operation was carried out without success.
Perhaps it can best be summed up by recounting one of the trip‘s many
teasers; I was stood on a spot and told that the plant was within a meter
of me - it still took a slightly over ten minutes to
find
it! From our searches it would appear that this plant is very rare, at
least in this location and can only really be detected when in flower or
fruit.
We left
this area and made camp on the beach at Barquito. The
following
morning
we climbed the steep coastal
cliffs,
passing the odd Copiapoa
growing amongst the massive lumps of rock. On the way up I found
Eriosyce megacarpa (RMF 66) in full flower and collected a couple of
specimens that would otherwise be destroyed by the extending construction
work here. On the very top of the 300 m high cliffs we found Eriosyce
atacamensis and Copiapoa humilis var. barquitensis, but there
was no sign of the Pyrrhocactus that we had hoped to
find
here.
We left
this area, travelling south to Copiapó, a town nowhere near as attractive
as the cacti named after
it! Some
30 km south of Copiapó we stopped to photograph one of Chile‘s tourist
attractions a (quote) one thousand year old Eulychnia. Whether the
plant is really that old is pure speculation but it really is a monster of
a plant some six
meters high with well over a hundred branches. In the
rocky terrain behind that plant I searched for, and found, a few scruffy
plants of the species which Ritter calls Pyrrhocactus kunzei (RMF
68). Ritter has argued for some time now that the plant most of us know in
cultivation as P. kunzei is in fact his P. eriosyzoides
- which explains why the two are so similar - and that the kunzei
described by Forster in Forster and Rumpler, Handbook Cacti. 293:1886
represent a totally different plant. Certainly the plants I found are very
distinct from
the golden spined species we cultivate as kunzei/eriosyzoides,
but whether Ritter is correct in his belief is in my opinion very
debatable. In keeping with many descriptions of that era, the Forster
description is not very clear, however there are one or two points that
would seem to refute Ritter‘s
claim,
notably that the habitat of the plant is
"Chile,
off the extreme mountain range, occasionally under a light snow covering.“
This area we were in now is never likely to see snow as the altitude is
only 650 m and can hardly be considered as a mountain range. The habitat
of Ritter‘s eriosyzoides on the other hand fits the habitat
description perfectly.
Making our
way towards Vallenar we stopped to collect Pyrrhocactus atroviridis
(RMF 69). Despite being so numerous, the damage caused by insects
burrowing within these plants made it impossible to collect undamaged
specimens. The plants appear to be tolerant of very severe damage in same
cases, as most plants were in flower or fruit. Eulychnia breviflora
and Austrocylindropuntia miquelii were both very common here;
nearly all the Eulychnias were either in flower or about to flower
whilst the size of the Opuntia put the glasshouse efforts of most
of us Europeans to shame! Further on we came to an unusually
level
area and pulled off the road; the view south was uninterrupted for
probably 10 km. There were numerous tyre tracks around; whether it was a
stopping off place from the monotonous road or whether numerous plant
hunters had been here prior to ourselves. I do not know, but we hoped to
find
an unusual plant somewhere in this area. Find it we did, at first very
scarce but later becoming easier to spot although really there were not
too many specimens around. It is the habitat of Thelocephala duripulpa
(RMF 73). A large number of the plants which we found had offsetted and
whilst it was not possible to determine whether this was a result of
damage to the main head, I did
find
a couple of plants with offsets but without any sign of damage to the main
head. The soil was very similar to that in which we had found P.
occultus growing and significantly both plants had large tubers. A
four
headed plant of about 7 cm overall breadth had a root of more than 20 cm
in length. Unlike P. occultus
but like many other of the Thelocephala, I found that these plants
had the typical narrow
neck
about 6 mm in diameter and often with a surprising length of up to 7 cm.
South of Vallenar, Copiapoa vallenarensis became increasingly
common, the green body forms
were now replacing the grey bodied plants.
It was
late afternoon as we passed the Cuesta de Pajonales but for some
unknown reason I decided to stop and take a look into the hills by the
side of the road. Such was my excitement at what I saw that I clean forgot
to warn the other vehicle of my intentions. The result was that not only
did they pass me but returned
more than an hour later, certain that I had met with some kind of
accident. The temperature of the other driver - Fred Katterman, cooled
distinctly as I offered my apologies and a peace offering of one of the
most impressive Eriosyce species that we have seen to date. We
decided to camp here for the night and make a further study of the area on
the following morning,
for not only were there Eriosyce to see (RMF 70) but also
Pyrrhocactus eriosyzoides var. domeskeyoensis (RMF 72). The following
morning the Eriosyce positively glowed in the sun, their reddish
brown spination making them extremely attractive. Nearly all the plants I
found had fruit on them, complete rings of fruit - I counted as many as 55
fruit on one plant; considering that each
fruit
usually contained about 200 seeds they would have been expected to have
been more plentiful than I saw. Just what species this plant is, I am not
certain;
Ritter records Eriosyce algarrobensis as coming from near this
locality but that particular species is unknown to me, other than the
description and illustration in Ritter‘s s book. Of a surprising likeness
was the Pyrrhocactus, the body perhaps a little more open but the
same bronze colour. However, the fruit is distinct enough to identify
itself as a Pyrrhocactus as it had the typical elongated berry of
the Neoporterianae and not the woolly globular fruit of Eriosyce.
I also found a single specimen of another Eriosyce with a green
body and black spines, E. ceratistes or E. sandillon as
Ritter calls it now.
Our last
stop was now in sight, Trapiche. Here we were to look for a
Thelocephala newly described
by Ritter -
T. fankhauseri. It was found after extensive searching and was
visible only by the fruit projecting above the surface of the ground. One
of the smaller species, most specimens were no more than 2 cm in diameter.
It had the characteristic tap root. Very abundant in the same locality was
another tap rooted plant, Pyrrhocactus deherdtianus (=
trapichensis Ritter). A number of forms were found along with several
flower colour variations. It was quite a fitting climax to the trip to
find
so many plants in flower within such a small compass. They seemed to have
adapted well to this environment, growing both in the shade at the base of
the numerous Eulychnia and in the open without any plant cover. In
addition to the dominant Eulychnia, there were also numerous
Copiapoa pseudocoquimbana in full flower. More difficult to detect was
Pyrrhocactus simulans (RMF 76) which has evolved a striking
similarity to the Copiapoa. It is an art of detection to separate
the two and more than once I stood pondering which was which. Obviously
flowers set them apart but I was too early for the Pyrrhocactus
flowers but alter careful scrutiny I was able to collect two specimens - I
think! As we left the area we were able to see the lifeline of many of
these plants making its way through the hills around the district called
El Tofo; the coastal mist had started to roll inland.
As we made
our way south from Coquimbo, we stopped for a quick bite to eat. Not
wanting to wait for sandwiches to be prepared, I hurried off to the
nearest hill. Crossing the wire fences I came to a typical citrus grove
but in amongst the trees I found the odd specimen of Eriosyce of
considerable size, 15 cm, such is their tolerance of growing conditions.
Having
returned
to Santiago, it was now time to have the plants that I had collected
inspected and the correct documentation raised to export the plants back
to the U.K. In Latin America things like this cannot be hurried and it
took the best part of four days before the plants were boxed and ready for
despatch. I am quite certain however that without the help of Adriana
it may have been nearer four weeks!
There was
still time to make one or two more trips before returning
home, so having been a possible burden to my hosts for long enough I
slipped off and hired a rental car. The
first few
days I spent around the Santiago basin that I had been to earlier in my
stay. My next aim was to visit Pichidangui which lay same
150
km north of Santiago. But first I visited an area of Montenegro, about 50
km north of Santiago. Here I found the familiar Pyrrhocactus of the
region, P. curvispinus (or andicolus Ritt). It was a sheep
grazing district with numerous forms of plant life trees dominated much of
the south lacing slopes and the cacti were restricted to isolated north
lacing areas. The exception to this is Trichocereus chilensis
which, like its relatives in the Santiago basin, is quite happy competing
with almost all other vegetation. Whilst most of my searches have proved
fruitless despite the obvious presence of large stands of Trichocereus,
I did find
a broad mix of flora at one particular location. Here the rocks were a
very unusual reddish colour and in amongst them I found Pyrrhocactus
curvispinus (RMF 84), P. horridus (RMF 83) with deep red
flowers, a further Pyrrhocactus of whose identity I am uncertain,
and the plant which I had come here to find - Neoporteria coimasensis
var. robustior (RMF 82). The latter were particularly fine plants with
either black spines, or yellow spined, really robust and up to 50 cm high.
Interestingly
enough, despite growing within a hundred metres of the Pyrrhocactus,
the two genera did not mix. The Neoporteria preferred the steep
slopes or sheer rock faces whilst the Pyrrhocactus grew on more
level
ground often amongst the Puyas.
The
Neoporteria had impressed me tremendously, so much that I decided to
find the type species N. coimasensis. Ritter gives Las Coimas as
the type locality but I could not find the place name on any of the large
scale maps I had with me. I decided to take a chance and head for where I
thought it should be! I was later to leam that I actually asked for
directions from the very place that was once called Las Coimas. As the
road wound its way beneath the hills I suggested cacti must exist there.
Exist they did, in large numbers, including the Neoporteria I had
come to search for. The problem was getting to them. Getting across the
farmer‘s field complete with cows, that lay between the road and the hills
was no problem to a
lad
from Suffolk, but how was I to cross the man-made dyk
that had been cut into the hill? Although brim full of water, the width
would not have put me off, but I could not see a suitable landing place on
the other side where there was a thick growth of bramble and other plants.
I travelled some 15 km with the same result - there plants
no
more than ten metres away but there was no way across. I traveled on
towards Llay
Llay and at last I found a clearing, but by now the plants were few and
far between However, I managed to collect Neoporteria coimasensis (RMF
87) as well as the Pyrrhocactus of this area, P. aconcaguensis,
but by now it was nearly 8 o‘clock in the evening and photography was not
possible. I returned
to the car and after a quick bevy of Chilean wine and a cuppa, decided to
travel by night to Pichidangui. I arrived shortly before midnight, having
avoided all but
the worst of the potholes en route. The night was cool and I had intended
to sleep
under the stars on the patch of grass between the rough road and the sea,
but after
laying down my sleeping bag I decided against it - the place was full of
cacti!
Early the
following morning I surveyed the scene; Pyrrhocactus horridus (RMF
89) grew on almost every piece of flat
ground, and where the rocks had formed low piles grew Pyrrhocactus
chilensis. Most of the P. horridus were in
flower and
these were fairly consistent in colouration. Body morphology
varied slightly, some green some brown, some offsetting but mostly single.
As I wandered throughout this locality, I came across literally thousands
of plants and I questioned how justified Ritter‘s varieties of P.
horridus really are - var. minor,
var. mutabilis, and P. odoriflorus. Of the many
plants I found here and further north at Los Vilos, there were individuals
that fell within the descriptions but I did not find consistent groups.
Similarly with Pyrrhocactus chilensis, there is no geographical
separation from the variety albidiflora and I found them in flower
side by side. Pyrrhocactus chilensis bears an uncanny resemblance
to Neoporteria subgibbosa both in terms of body morphology and mode
of growth. Both plants grow at the base of extensive rocky escarpments,
but both seem happiest wedged in crevices of the high cliffs. Pichidangui
has quite a varied flora; in addition to the cacti mentioned above there
are abundant Eulychnia castanea (in flower),
Trichocereus, Puya, Nolana petiolata, Alstroemeria augustifolia and
numerous other species that I could not identify.
From Los Molles I travelled to Illapel. My aim was to find Pyrrhocactus
choapensis, which I did find amongst citrus trees at Choapa. It would
seem that many
plants have been removed since this type of farming commenced, but they
still hang on, on the edge of such areas. The plants I collected came from
just above the main orchard. Eulychnia grew on the other side of
the valley but I could find
no
trace there of the Pyrrhocactus. At Pte. Confluencia (near Illapel)
I was surprised to find a plant which I believe to be P. chilensis
(RMF 93); its true identity will have to wait until it flowers for it grew
in a most unlikely habitat for this species. There were, however, a large
number of seedling plants in this area, which was once again dominated by
Eulychnia.
This was
the last opportunity I was to have of studying
the plants on this trip as I had to make my way back to Santiago to spend
my last night with Dieter Forstmann, to make provisional plans for my
retum in 1983. Dieter has built up a fine collection of Chilean plants and
we hope to make a trip together to Huasco, Elqui and onwards to Paposo
around the end of the year.
Footnote: The plants I collected have by and large settled down well
in our European climate and whilst it is still early days, it is
interesting to note that several of those I collected in flower or fruit
have already reverted to our seasons. October is early spring in Chile
much the same as May (except warmer) but it is perhaps surprising that the
plants did not need to condition themselves or in some cases even produce
roots, before embarking on another flowering season. Alreadly P.
deherdtiana, simulans, floccosus, horridus, paucicostata, and
taltalensis have all flowered, whilst P. neohankeanus, kunzei,
atroviridis, curvispinus, Copiapoa haseltoniana, cinerea, coquimbana,
Thelocephala fankhauseri, Eriosyce megacarpa and RMF 70 are all in
bud.
