🌶️ Start Here: The Trail That Made Me

Hola!
If you’re new here—bienvenidx! You’ve just stumbled upon my little corner of the internet where wild paths, muddy shoes, slow mornings, and spicy dreams collide. This is Chili Trails. And if you’re wondering who’s behind all this… well, hola, I’m Karin.

I’m a 37-year-old Chilean who’s walked, biked, crawled, and run her way through many lives. And no, I’m not one of those people who had a five-year plan and stuck to it. I’ve been a wildlife veterinarian, a Divemaster at the Great Barrier Reef, a cook on a day-tripper catamaran (while giving snorkel tours between stir-fries), a bartender in a slightly dodgy Auckland bar, a plastic bottle kayak builder, and an NGO CEO. Oh, and somewhere along the way, I also became a yoga teacher in India, an ultra runner, a dog whisperer (self-certified), and now, a digital nomad who consults for environmental NGOs while splitting life between Chile and Bali.

Sounds idyllic, right?
Well—let me stop you there. It hasn’t always been like this.

Behind every highlight reel are the detours, the doubts, the heartbreaks, and the existential spirals. I’ve explored many places and walked many inner paths to get here. And honestly? A lot of those paths didn’t have signposts. They didn’t have people who looked like me, sounded like me, or came from where I did. So I started carving my own.

One of my first wild detours? Riding a downhill mountain bike for the very first time… down the infamous Death Road in Bolivia. Yes. DEATH. ROAD. I still remember gripping those handlebars like my life depended on it (because it literally did), whispering apologies to every part of my body. Once I reached the bottom (miraculously without breaking my legs), I called my mum from a tiny public phone in Coroico to tell her what I had just done. Her response? Equal parts horror and pride.

Then there was that time I came back from two months backpacking solo across Ecuador and Colombia, about to leave again for a three-month internship working with monkeys in Costa Rica. I was at a party when a guy (let’s call him Juan 👋) asked me, with a very serious face: “What is wrong with you?”
He couldn’t understand how I was travelling solo. He said he didn’t know if he found it “admirable or disgusting.”
So, naturally, I became the most “disgusting” person (under Juan’s standards), because I’ve kept travelling solo ever since—even now that I have a partner.
But that moment really stuck. It made me reflect on the expectations that come from growing up in a conservative society like many parts of Latin America—where gender roles are still deeply carved into our minds.
A woman roaming wild, solo, across countries? That’s not exactly “ladylike,” right?
Well, maybe not. But it is human. And these wild choices have made me who I am.

I wasn’t always this bold. I was 25, nursing a broken heart from my first serious relationship, when I signed up for my very first 10k run. Fourteen years later, I’ve done ultramarathons in some of the world’s most remote places, bikepacked solo through Tasmania, hiked the Larapinta Trail and the Grampians Peaks Trail, and cried happy (and dehydrated) tears at many summits. That one choice cracked something open in me—and I’ve never stopped moving forward since.

I’m not a professional athlete, and I’m not out here chasing podiums. But I am chasing freedom, joy, and connection. For me, adventure isn’t about speed—it’s about depth.

I also live a plant-based life—three years vegan, now five years vegetarian (yes, I eat cheese again, oops). Nourishing my body this way has helped me stay grounded and energised through some seriously tough challenges—physical, mental, and emotional.

So... why start Chili Trails now?
Maybe this is my version of a middle-age crisis 😅
Maybe it’s my way of finally showing my mum (and the world) all the weird and wonderful things I’ve done—so that, hopefully, they become the new normal for others. Maybe for you.

And why Chili?
Because I’m proudly from Chile 🇨🇱. But also because more than a few people have referred to me as “the chili”—you know, small, fiery, full of flavour.
Plus, Chile literally looks like a chili pepper, so I’m claiming it.
And I really do love spicy food. Did you know Indonesia has like 50 different types of sambal? Heaven.

So here it is. My digital refuge.
Where I’ll share stories—the good, the bad, and the deeply embarrassing—of wild places, gear tests, solo journeys, cultural insights, and the beauty of living a bit off-script.

Maybe something here gives you a little nudge. Maybe it lights a spark. Or maybe it just makes you feel less alone in your own messy, brave path.

Let’s walk it together.

Con cariño,
Karin