Arriving at the proper Valle Francés lookout wasn’t to be, time was limited. Our chosen point-of-turnaround was all I could ask for, a cluster of mossy rocks to ourselves, maybe 90 minutes up from Campamento Italiano. Glaciar Francés was in her full splendour: neve, blue ice, terminus, messy moraine and waterfalls. The ominous cracking and deep rumbling as pieces of ice went with gravity. I felt the epic scale of this view and wondered what will become of glaciers decades from now.
When having a crappy summer’s day, just think of
Glaciar Francés. I’m in a little office
and this wide tall grand landscape is here at the same time. Other Patagonian glaciers were more speccy,
but hiking a long way to this one, the first of the trip, added to the
gloriousness.
My outdoorsy odyssey continues with probably the most elaborate trip of my life to the Patagonian Andes in Chile and Argentina. Our #3KLPatagoniaPosse was one of my oldest friends Kylie, her close friend and ninjaneer (engineer) Liz, and Kylie’s 19-year-old niece Kimberly, or Kimbo. Kylie and I were in Ranger Guides together discovering the outdoors as raucous teenagers, including my first ever day of rockclimbing. On this trip Kylie was an excellent and caring mentor for Kimberly, who in a baptism of fire, trekked in Patagonia for her first overseas trip! But there was no short supply of good and youthful ass-kicking humour coming from Kimbo. Liz and Kylie were highly organised and experienced travellers – good people to have in your posse.
My outdoorsy odyssey continues with probably the most elaborate trip of my life to the Patagonian Andes in Chile and Argentina. Our #3KLPatagoniaPosse was one of my oldest friends Kylie, her close friend and ninjaneer (engineer) Liz, and Kylie’s 19-year-old niece Kimberly, or Kimbo. Kylie and I were in Ranger Guides together discovering the outdoors as raucous teenagers, including my first ever day of rockclimbing. On this trip Kylie was an excellent and caring mentor for Kimberly, who in a baptism of fire, trekked in Patagonia for her first overseas trip! But there was no short supply of good and youthful ass-kicking humour coming from Kimbo. Liz and Kylie were highly organised and experienced travellers – good people to have in your posse.
Torres del Paine, Cerro Torre, Fitz Roy, and Frey
After feeling the apprehensive ‘will the zips on the storage luggage close?’, ‘will I survive the weight of my trekking pack?’ among other worries, we were into Day One of the internationally famous ‘W’ Trek of Parque Nacional Torres del Paine, Chile. We hiked up a big hill, then sidled the picturesque Rio Ascencio valley. During a break I relieved my already sore feet by sitting cross-legged in the sun, and we were happy to see a condor making circles in the sky before us. Close enough to make out the shape of its wing tips. Onward! Sometimes the ground was steep enough to make me pick up the pace to give enormous rucksack upward momentum.
Spoilt could be a word for describing the W. The companies who run the refugios and fancy camping platforms are Fantástico Sur and Vértice Patagonia. They’re expensive but for your money you get hot showers and full board – packed lunches, three-course dinners, and a bar service on top if you like. Booking several months in advance for summer is highly recommended!
Liz’s Garmin showed that we covered 62 km in six days. Day Two saw us side tripping to the viewpoint the park is renowned for, Torres del Paine (pronounced pie-nee) lookout. These iconic granite towers rise over 2000 metres above the Patagonian steppe, and finally arriving before the jade-green lake and rock shelves there, my jaw dropped in wonder of them. The crowds didn’t take away from our enjoyment and over a leisurely lunch we watched how moving clouds changed the light on the towers, grateful for the clear view. I was ambitious to think I could couple this with trekking up Valle Silencio (it would have added around 4 hours to our day), but the trail appeared to be long-closed, not meant to be. After a year of curiosity about Silencio, suggested by my inspiring SA climbing friend Rob Baker, I let it go.
Torres del Paine resplendent with jade green lake
Day Three was raining with dreaded
terrain happenings on the shortcut between Refugios El Chileno and Los Cuernos. The crimson notro or Chilean firetree flower
brightened up the greyness. Balancing on
logs over ponds of mud was hard, as was finding the best wet stepping stones to
cross gushing streams. When the rain
cleared the amazing Cuernos (horns) came into view and everything glistened –
despite cold temperatures it was clearly summer, the way adorned with various berries,
wildflowers and pussy willows. Gargantuan
Lago (lake) Nordenskjöld was on our left, an eye-pleasing milky blue when clear
skies returned.
Pretty notro flower
Ah, then there was Francés. I noticed how the trees were leaning a certain
angle because of the wind coming from the west, their green arms lifting a
little backwards in awe and appreciation of the glacier. Then you have lenticular clouds whipped into
shape by the winds.
On the way to our Francés lookout was an
intersection of babbling brooks. They
looked like canals from Lost Horizon, with light and dark pebbles, verdant
shrubs with purple and red berries, and trickle waterfalls. Japanese gardens would have to step
aside. I lingered, straddling these
natural channels. Such clear cool water
on the move, day and night, then creaks and rumbles from uphill. Glaciar Francés and its surrounding Cerro
Paine Grande gave little avalanches. One was an obvious poof of snow-clouds,
and I heard more from a distance later at camp.
Glaciar Francés
On the last day of the W there was more
pleasant weather, a little warm even.
Steady morning hill climbs and after a time, Glaciar Grey came into
view. From a great distance you could already
make out the blue ice. At a vantage
point Kylie and Liz took a picture of Kimberly holding her poles in the air,
victory stance. I was happy on the
inside to see the glacier – they have wow factor especially coming from non-glaciers
Australia. As we hiked closer there were
tiny chunks of blue ice contrasting with the dull hue of Lago Grey. Then steep, rocky downhill sections but
nothing vertiginous, fortunately. Just
took my time stepping down, getting a sense of mountain goat can-do.
Approaching Glaciar Grey
The trail went through gentle green
corridors, outcrops on either side, before opening up to views and wind again. There was a bridge over the sudden gush of
Olguin River Gorge. At a civilised hour
that afternoon we arrived at Refugio Grey, where I took off my jumbo pack at
the end of the W Trek, of the celebrity rock massifs and epic lagos. And glaciers.
Importantly we were cheersing with glacial ice in our special drinks at
the refugio bar (I had a pisco and tonic), and congratulated our
#3KLPatagoniaPosse selves on completing the trek. Our navegación/ferry transport back to the
roads took us up close to Glaciar Grey – whoa it was stunning!
¡Salud!
Cerro Torre and Fitz Roy are spectacular
rock-spire mountains in Parque Nacional Los Glaciares, Argentina. You can get closer to them on foot as long
day hikes or link them up as a multi-dayer using the campsites out there. We intended to camp for three nights but the biggest
gale-force winds of my life sent us packing back to town on the evening of the
second day. The city of El Calafate and
village El Chalten were wonderful bases either side of trekking. There were lenga forests (a southern beech
tree), which emerged as very old giants closer to Campamento De Agostini. Some had pale green hanging mosses which I
had to tickle occasionally and call ‘beards’.
The campsite experience was so cold
there was light sleet and much wearing of down jackets. I enjoyed fetching glacier-milk water from
the relentless gushing Rio Fitz Roy – probably felt more connected to nature. The following morning we saw Cerro Torre
without clouds, the 3102 metre spire head-and-shoulders above its companions. We made our way over hill and down dale, past
pretty meadows to Lagunas Hija y Madre, their little
waves twinkling in the sunlight. Too bad
the weather changed and it wasn’t pretty for Campamento Poincenot, and high
point Laguna de los Tres eluded us. We
hoofed it to El Chalten, waterproofs on, along with other campers who also
decided it wasn’t worth the gale-force scariness.
After a couple of days I returned, enjoying
day-hiking alone. Well, not as far as the campsite, but to Laguna Capri and its
nearby viewpoint of the amazing Fitz Roy massif, in fabulous warm weather. Monte Fitz Roy was part of a panorama with
more rock, snow, ice, glacier, and lenga forest in the foreground; I
contemplated its shockingly expansive granite beauty and that the Hielo Sur
(Southern ice cap), such a rare thing, which lies beyond it stretching for some
360 km north-south.
Fitz Roy massif
An overnight hike to Refugio Emilio Frey
(est. 1957) in Parque Nacional Nahuel Huapi was highly recommended to me by Rob
and I’m glad we did it. We plodded 10-or-so
km and 700 metres of ascending, starting through weedy post-forest-fire
regrowth, overlooking Lake Gutiérrez. Eventually
up the leafy valley of Arroyo Van Titter, there was steepness with sometimes
boulders and wind blowing the summer bulldust around. Then views of the high alpine mountains and
yellow rock towers came appeared. The
characterful dining room at Refugio Frey was decorated with rock climbing gear.
It was packed with people and a goulash
dinner hit the spot while it snowed (in summer!!) outside. I felt like a dork but anyway said to some young
Argentinian climbers, ‘I’m from the Climbing Club of South Australia and I hope
you have a great climb, that things go well and the weather is kind!’
Liz at charismatic Refugio Frey
Clear
and colourful themes emerged for me…
Torres del pain. On this trip my pace was slower, partly because of the wind and the myofascial pain I live with. My feet felt excruciating late in the day from the pressure and I finally admitted my boot size was too small. New boots are a must for next time. Sometimes I neglected 5-minute breaks, good for happy feet and taking in views, to flippin’ please the others who kept moving. My upper back was sore from the heavy pack, a well-fitting modern rucksack but it’s not exactly fluffy doonas. When we arrived at Mountain Lodge Paine Grande I asked a young guy to take a picture of me and the mountain massif not smiling, but also not scowling, to try and convey that this is a beautiful, wild part of the planet, but I’m hurting right now so I’m not going to jump for joy.
Torres del pain. On this trip my pace was slower, partly because of the wind and the myofascial pain I live with. My feet felt excruciating late in the day from the pressure and I finally admitted my boot size was too small. New boots are a must for next time. Sometimes I neglected 5-minute breaks, good for happy feet and taking in views, to flippin’ please the others who kept moving. My upper back was sore from the heavy pack, a well-fitting modern rucksack but it’s not exactly fluffy doonas. When we arrived at Mountain Lodge Paine Grande I asked a young guy to take a picture of me and the mountain massif not smiling, but also not scowling, to try and convey that this is a beautiful, wild part of the planet, but I’m hurting right now so I’m not going to jump for joy.
Me not jumping for joy, with the Cuernos in the background
Pain also arrived in a niggling headcold. In feeling long-term inadequate compared with
other outdoors people around me, and thinking of their equivalent men and women
at home. I reflected and reasoned through
this to cope and be kind to myself. I
found the personalities of my travelling companions to be different. Maybe they wondered which planet I was from –
while I do have a sense of humour, I was more likely to worry and be serious
than they were. We had some enjoyable
dinner conversations which made things better, and I sought out space to keep
things in balance. On the plane home, newly
sick with food poisoning, I cried to La
La Land Emma Stone’s song ‘Audition (The fools who dream)’.
Keep dreaming, keep believing. Don’t get me wrong. The Patagonia trip was well worth it despite my personal challenges. Like life in general, you get obstacles and still you arrive, achieve things and hopefully feel good.
Keep dreaming, keep believing. Don’t get me wrong. The Patagonia trip was well worth it despite my personal challenges. Like life in general, you get obstacles and still you arrive, achieve things and hopefully feel good.
Viento, mucho viento. By the end of the W trek I felt somewhat adapted to famously ferocious Patagonian winds. Perhaps I had mastered ‘breathe, step, step, breathe, step…’ to stay calm. However the viento hit the fan approaching Campamento Poincenot on the Fitz Roy trek, me screaming as the gusts mocked my balance. I fell off wet duckboard into some soft bouncy reeds, to look up and see a blond backpacker guy smiling at me, ‘hey it’s OK’ as he held his hand out to me. Nice. At the campground shortly after I estimated the gusts to have reached 100 km/hr, with the Gammon Ranges 90 km/hr ones to go by, of the great red dust storm of ’09. Dirt whipped our limbs while the grove of thick lenga tree trunks were all a’swaying, earthquake-like. It tipped me over the edge of fear, and then I gathered myself together again. Kimbo split her finger open on a toppling log while she tried to arrange a windbreak. I admired how calm and supportive Kylie and Liz were with the storm and with delivering their quality first aid. An old split trunk leaned over one of our tents. Some folk were packing up to head back to town. After a tent meeting with some food, our posse decided to get the flippin’ heck out of there.
The pelting rain joined the wind as we started back for El Chalten at around 6pm, such crazy weather. Eight kilometres later we arrived back into town, exhausted, sore and extremely grateful for cabins.
The Magellanic woodpecker. There were two sightings in Parque Nacional Los Glaciares. When we climbed the hill before Lagunas Hija y Madre, they flew through a maze of tree trunks, the male with the obvious bright red head feathers, ‘triangular’ head, and black plumage. They stopped to feed on larvae dinner from the trunks. Coming from the direction where Liz was standing it sounded like she was tapping her trekking poles into the ground, but of course it was the woodpeckers tapping holes into the trunks with their beaks. Their thick skulls have spongy parts to prevent concussions. Also I loved watching what the ubiquitous rufous-collared sparrows were up to – they weren’t at all bothered about wind! From bus windows we saw guanacos and rheas walking the treeless Patagonian steppe.
Magellanic woodpecker
Momentz*. There were several, including touching the ice at Laguna Torre. Fortunately we didn’t have to trek the whole
way to Mirador (lookout) Maestri to appreciate the awesomeness. I stood level with the wavy Laguna and its
jumble of glaciers beyond, icebergs bobbing around in the crazy Patagonian wind;
the mountain backdrop. ‘I don’t like the
heatwaves at home, glad to be at great lengths getting out of them’, I thought
to myself while I felt the chilly water and a translucent football-shaped
cluster of ice. Amazing moment, all this
landscape and the sensory thing too, my hands wet on the pebble shore.
Laguna Torre
Translucent ice football
Before my very eyes, pre-dawn stars at Frey. At 5am I put on my boots and layers to walk across the chilly night to the bathroom building, when my jaw hit the ground at the mountain silhouettes and clouds forming frames backlit by the moon, with stars so bright I wasn’t sure if I was dreaming. That morning standing in the cold wind at Laguna Tonchek, I asked the wise universe for an answer to help with the human inadequacies I was feeling, and ‘live and let live’ came back. And to believe that other people are indeed thinking ‘live and let live’.
Glacier mini trekking guided tour, Perito Moreno Glacier, with whisky on ice. I’ll just leave this here :)
Hola, gracias, de nada. The happy hiker vibe was in the air often, people love this. Countless smiles and ‘¡Hola!’ on the trails. Thanks go to my travelling companions Kylie, Liz and Kimberly, especially for their patience. Muchas gracias to the Chilean and Argentinian locals. To hospitality, tourism and travel staff, fellow holiday-makers, retailers. To Mariela and Soledad for a fantastic night out in Buenos Aires! I am thankful for their kindness, beauty and hospitality. How lucky were we.
Adios y bueno suerte. ¡Que te vaya bien!
*Title of gritty song from Humanz by Gorillaz (Warner Bros.), one of the albums I loved while travelling.
