After leaving a windy rock outcropping during a short walk around the ranch, a new member of the Patagonia Frontiers' work crew turned, in a moment of realization, and said, "Whoa, we are really out there!".  This was spoken in a manner suggesting a quiet sense of awe and no words felt closer to the truth.  In the few days since new members of our work crew arrived this sentiment has been repeated by not just the new crew members, but by everyone here.

While spending time at the ranch, cooking meals, chopping fire wood, or visiting with the horses it is easy to feel a sense of community not typically associated with the word "isolation".  However, a glance around the mountains or a kilometer-long walk in any direction suggests otherwise:  we are somewhere very far away and very unique.

The full crew has been here for about a week and in that time, we have seen no cars or commercials, no crowded streets or congestion, and not one text message has been sent or phone call made.  What we have seen has been quite different.  We have seen a condor effortlessly soaring above us, an owl perched on a branch five meters away, apple trees in full blossom and arugula sprouting from the soil, eventually to make its way to our plates.

This is a place that feels so much like home, yet we are indeed really far out there.