Lo-Fi: Tierra del Fuego
Beagle Channel
I heart Tierra del Fuego. I couldn’t break out the big gun (the Nikon D90) to take photos of the archipelago upon our descent, so I had to do my best with the iPhone built-in camera. Enjoy.
I would have gladly traded my 3 nights in Bariloche, for an extra 3 nights in Ushuaia – even if it would have snowed or rained. Ushuaia carries a more genuine character than the more worldly Bariloche. I’m almost sad to be leaving Patagonia in just 3 days… <sniff>.
Lluvia: Escaping the Rain
I layed in the top bunk staring at the ceiling. The hut roof was slanted allowing not only winter snow to slide down but for 2 three-tier bunk beds and another two-tier bunk to fill the room. It was 11:30 pm and the wind roared outside. It shook the entire hut with its fifty or so occupants. The two Coloradan girls and I were betting who would die first if the wind ripped the roof off from its frame. Given my position closest to the ceiling, I bet I would be the first to go.
There was a 2 foot x 3 foot plexi-glass panel in the ceiling that let in some sunshine into the room during the day. I stared through it, and realized the stars were out again. The rain had stopped, but the wind raged on.
The forecast for the third day of the trek was grim – rain for another two days. Although I was confident I could finish the W route accordingly to my original five-day plan, it was unlikely I would even see the famed Las Torres.
(next morning)
¨Why is my entire torso soaked?¨ It was raining and no more than 45 F. I wore a cheap plastic navy blue poncho with a hood over my soft-shell jacket. It fit like a poofy dress and covered everything but my forearms. There was no obvious reason for my jacket to be the least bit wet. I was wishing I had not lost my high-tech rain jacket during the hike to Mount Fitzroy.
I looked down. There was a giant tear near the collar of the poncho. Water collected on the hood and was dripping down my chest. I still had two more hours and 5km more to hike, and it appeared useless to continue wearing the poncho. I wanted to look like the blue, wet, ugly mess I already was and kept the poncho on anyways. At least it would give passing hikers some amusement on this cloudy day. I was a banner proclaiming: ¨Yes, it really is raining and miserable! Viva Patagonia!¨
My boots were surprisingly dry, I thought. Then I stepped into a bog. Water plus gravity equates to hiking trails turning into temporal streams. Where the trail reaches a low point, especially surrounded by bare dirt and grass, the water pools and creates a short-lived mini-swamp. My socks for the first time in three days was wet. This only fueled my legs to press on faster than before.
I waited at another refugio for the shuttle to transfer to the bus back into Puerto Natales. My wet bare feet balanced on the cold bathroom floor, but I was thankful to be changing into drier clothes. I was edging towards hypothermia as the warmth from hiking started to subside.
I´ll return in sunnier days. I got an updated forecast for the entire peninsula – Patagonia including Tierra del Fuego. Snow. Rain. Sleet. Clouds. Now I just have to figure out how to kill 10 days in Patagonia.
Torres del Paine: Los Cuernos
"Los Cuernos" near Lago Pehoe in Torres del Paine National Park
Today is the first day of the W-route multi-day hike in Chile´s Torres del Paine National Park. The route can take up to 5 days and abbreviates the normally 8-day Paine Circuit that circles the mountains of Torres del Paine. The route can be done in either east-bound or west-bound directions: Night 1 at Las Torres, Night 2 at Los Cuernos, Night 3 at Lago Pehoe, Night 4 at Lago Grey and finishing back at Lago Pehoe to catch the cataraman across the lake and then to connect to a bus back into Puerto Natales – the nearest town.
Given the grim forecast in later days, I prioritized my hike to focus on Los Cuernos, which lies in the middle section of the route. When sunnier days return, I would come back to finish the Grey Glacier segment in the west, from where I can already see clouds start to roll in from the Pacific.
I hike the 12 km to Refugio Los Cuernos from the dock at the western end of Lago Pehoe, with a late start at 1pm. I´ll be sleeping and eating at the refugios – also known as mountain huts, where there are beds and warm meals available.
Perito Moreno Glacier
The foot of Perito Moreno Glacier in Los Glaciares National Park
I joined a group from the hostel on a small guided and unconventional tour of the ever-so-touristy Perito Moreno glacier in Argentina`s Los Glaciares national park. The glacier occupies the southern part of the park – the same park as Cerro Fitzroy, which stands in the northern sector.
We took a small ¨combi¨(their word for ¨shuttle¨) on an alternative unpaved road to the national park. Along the road we saw lots of animals you would normally miss on one of those mass tourist buses : condors, flamingos, rheas, eagles, falcons, native ducks, sheep, sheep and more sheep. We continued on to the southern face of the glacier, where we took a short one hour hike along the shores of the lake. We caught up with the combi and spent two hours of free time looking at the calving glacier from catwalks on the opposing mountainside. After lunch we went to a boat launch near the northface of the glacier to get perspective of the glacier face from the water.
Snow & Hike to Cerro Torre
Cerro Torre stands in the distance behind a veil of wind-swept snow.
He looked through the window pane at such an angle that the restaurant on the other side of the street reflected off his thick glasses. The sky was white. His focus shifted between the fast-moving clouds and some loose sheets of paper inked with his thoughts.
[SinglePic not found] I kept my glance down at my plate as I spread the ration of butter and jelly on a roll. After slicing the bread in half, the stale crumbs fell and scattered across the table. They managed to tumble either onto my dirty hiking pants or to the foot of the towering carton of “jugo de naranja” – orange juice.
It was snowing – whiteout conditions with visibility no more than a few hundred meters. The wind howled fiercely, and banged a few unfastened shutters against aluminum siding. There wasn’t much else to look at or do. I decided to strike first conversation with the guy, “Se habla espanol?”
“No. English,” he said in the accent of the empire. “I’m from India, but I’ve been living in New Mexico for the last few months. I’ve been working with the radio telescopes out in Socorro. I’m an astronomer.”
Interesting already. We exchanged advice about hikes we’ve done in the park. He glanced again through the panoramic window. This time, his glasses reflected gaps of blue in the sky and snow-capped mountains in the not-so-distant glacial valley.
“Ahhh. This was the forecast for this afternoon for 12:00.” He examined his watch. “11:20… early! We might have chances to hike after all.” He ran outside. I looked through the window pane. He stood there out in the cold, gazing in the distance, calculating the risks… the likelihood that it was safe to embark on an 8-hour hike at this time of day. He looked back in, nodded and smiled. The hike is on.
I had decided to post some photos online before heading out for the hike to El Lago de Torre – a glacial lake with views of Cerro Torre – another towering piece of granite in Los Glaciares National Park. This cost me a few hours of daylight, as I didn’t start until 2:30 pm. Non-stop it should take 3 hours to get to the lake and 2 hours back on a sprint. If I timed everything right, I should be back by 7:30 with enough sunlight to spare. The sun usually sets around 8:00 pm.
Yesterday’s 10 hour hike to Lago de Los Tres left me in a more conditioned shape. I was practically sprinting up the steep portions of this hike. I had passed a young man and his father along the way. Two hours later, I arrived at the “mirador” – the viewpoint of the distant glacier and Cerro Torre. The gusts of frigid air that barreled down the valleys roared and almost pushed me over. The sun was still another 2 hours from setting. I looked at my watch. “F**k”. I weighed the risks and the rewards.
I decided I could managed the calculated risks. If a freak blizzard decided to present itself, I had enough insulation, fat reserves and an emergency foil blanket (Thanks, Karin!) to avoid hypothermia and outlast the storm. There were enough dead branches to build a small shelter and even start a fire. There was also a small camp at the end of the lake, where I might be able to pay someone for food and a share of their tent. “F**k it. If anything, I’ll die with a nice view.”
I had removed one of my under layers earlier in the hike. I poked my head just enough so the collar wrapped around my head just above my nose. It warmed my breaths, and shielded my exposed throat from the chill.
[SinglePic not found]I sprinted on, but the reflection of the mountains in a small pond captured my camera’s attention. Suddenly, the bright red jacket of the young man from earlier had managed to catch up.
“Hello. I decided to leave my father behind, so I reach el Lago de Torre before sunset”,” he said with a German accent yet pronouncing each Spanish word like a native.
[SinglePic not found]I was relieved to have a hiking buddy in such sketchy circumstances. This was an amazing kid and made for great conversation. I could tell he loved telling me about his adventures and practicing his English. Jan (pronounced “yahn”) was a 21-year old Frankfurter who decided to travel for five months in South America by himself. It suited his budget and he was also fluent in Spanish. He spoke to me in English without pausing to find a word. His father was an art teacher, his mother a photographer, and himself – he wanted to go back and study theater. His father came for a week-long visit, and he grinned as he told me how he went from eating and sleeping for cheap on less than 10 pesos per day to private room hotels and restaurants while his father is here. What an inspiring young character. A kindred spirit – he too preferred the outdoors over the drunken night-life style travelling in the cities.
We reached the lake just as the sun was setting behind Cerro Torre, but evening winds began to bring with it another round of snow. The top of Cerro Torre was veiled in cloud of suspended snow particles.
[SinglePic not found]“F**k man.” Jan looked at Cerro Torre in both disappointment and hope that the clouds would part to reveal the sun and the pinnacle of Cerro Torre. We waited 20 minutes before giving up around 6:00 pm.
We headed back and discussed more about life, philosophy, the NBA, and the juicing controversy of the Tour de France. 8:10 pm we approached the end of the trail. Only faint traces of day lit our way as the snow began to fall again. We shook hands and bid each other luck in our travels.
Map & Itinerary
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