The End of the World

Three days to spare after our backpacking trip before taking the 4 day ferry ride up North, we decided to nab the next tickets to Punta Arenas and camp on the Magellan Straight. It's not actually the end of the world, but the Magellan Straight does mark the southernmost point of the continental Americas. The idea had come to Will while we were on the trail, and it came to fruition by way of quick thinking, open ended planning, lucky breaks, and kind people offering timely assistance.




We didn't actually know where we were going to go, how long it takes to get there, or how long the multi-day trek is, but we did know that it followed the coastline and that you can camp for free and build fires wherever you so choose. That was enough information to convince us how to spend our last weekend in southern Chile. Upon our return to Puerto Natales, while telling a kind Israeli hostel-mate about our plans, he gifted us his map from the very trek we were hoping to do. Turns out, the trek takes 4 days and we only had 2 full days, so we decided instead to just hit the beaches for some camping and hike a leisurely 4-6 miles a day instead. We would do the trip in style: Austral beer, avocados, tomato and mozzarella salad, dried pears, paella mix with canned mussels, ravioli with real tomato sauce, and lots of cookies....



Scruffy!

Will had read on WikiTravel that there is a 6 pm bus that leaves Punta Arenas for the San Juan fishing community, where the beach trek begins. Yet when we asked where to find the bus, the attendants at the bus station insisted that there is no such bus because San Juan is so small (feasibly true) and told us to go to a guiding agency so we can visit the Magellanic penguin colony instead. Undeterred by their false insistence, we wandered outside with 10 minutes to spare before catching the phantom bus. Meandering down the sidewalk, we must have looked confused and desperate because a local Chilean man approached us and asked what we needed. When we told him, he chuckled and pointed for us to cross the street. Ten feet later, a row of combis (tiny local buses) came into view. An hour later, The combi dropped us off at its last stop at the end of a dirt road and the friendly driver gestured for us to follow the road for about 11 kilometers to find the trailhead.



Chilling our local beer in the Magellan Straight!

Donning our light packs, we followed the road which traced the edge of the high tide line. A small furry dog looking like a ragamuffin version of Kristin's dog, Widget, resolutely joined us, leading us down the road as the sky grew dusky. Dolphins frolicked in the distance and gulls snacked for tidbits amongst the rocky shore at low tide. As blue faded to pink, we selected a campsite and I took photographs while Will and Scruffy (the name he aptly selected for the sweet dog) set up the tent and cooked ravioli. We were sparing with our water since there was no fresh source within sight, so we drank hot pasta water for tea to warm ourselves in the cold night air and used the remaining water to soak our dried beans overnight.




Sleeping till ten, breakfast in bed, reading till 2, lunch sometime that afternoon.... We packed up camp eventually, and strolled a few miles further until we stumbled across a campsite just inside the woods with a freshwater river flowing next to it. We set up the stove on the nearly deserted beach, leaning against a whitened drift-wood tree, watching whales spout arcs of water and flick their tails, and drinking local beer that I chilled in the receding tide of the Magellan Straight. Life is pretty great to me.

We were told that you know if someone is from Punta Arenas because they always walk as if against the wind, even when there is no wind.

Leaving Torres

The bus back to Puerto Natales from the park was silent, save for the occasional whisper of wind through a neighbors' nostrils. Seats filled with twenty people and a pile of large packs, everybody slept, probably dreaming of achingly hot showers and juicy steaks. I was thinking about donuts again. Assuming the "I feel comfortable and accomplished" position, I slouched with my feet in the aisle and one hand in my waistband. I awoke an hour later wondering why I would dream of eating tuna after eating so much of it, until it occurred to me that there was tuna juice on my pants from lunch an hour before and that the entire bus smelled of it. There were about 14 pine tree shaped air freshener tags hanging next to the bus driver's seat. I can only imagine how thrilled he was to smell tuna for three hours, in addition to the aromatic assault of twenty hikers in a short bus whose windows don't open.



I was thinking about donuts on the entire hike. Dreaming of them. Every day, day and night. This is one of the first things I hope to eat upon my return to the US. Thanks for the picture Eliza. It made me want to die... Of longing... Not to be melodramatic or anything!

Guess what we ate when we returned to town? Youre thinking steak, arent you?! Wrong. Amazing oversized hot dogs called Completos are the national food of Chile. Slathered in 1/4 cup of avocado, fresh diced tomatoes, a tablespoon of hot onion-based salsa, and a streak of mustard, and encased in freshly baked crusty buns, these hot dogs transcended what I perceived as the properly prepared dog. Everybody eats them like this, though the locals prefer mayonnaise on theirs (I drew the line here). Though given the choice between a chili dog and a Chile dog, I would certainly choose the former of the two.

Torres cont.

Following the bends of the milky teal glacial river, we wound through the valley, climbed over the ridge line and headed toward Lake Dickson where we would camp for the night. The hike was relaxed once out of the mosquito zone, so long as a stiff breeze kept the blood thirsty certifies at bay. No one ever talks about the mosquitoes in Patagonia--just the wind. This makes sense, because it is rare for the wind to cease, and being in the warm river valley at the one moment it stopped proved to be the only bad weather related timing we have had since we came to Patagonia. We have had weather so perfect that it is nearly impossible. I guess Bolivian llama fetus voodoo really works.



Using a zoom lens....

The gradually sloping trail from Dickson takes you to Perros where you spend a chilly night next to a smaller glacier. Crossing the river and traversing up the valley, Perros is the last campsite before crossing the mountain pass and connecting with the upper left corner of the "W" circuit. We did the "O" circuit, or rather, the full circuit of the park. This section, between Perros and over the mountain pass, is where mediocre hiking becomes fabulous. As you ascend the mountain from the valley floor, you cross in and out of the receding tree line. The trail turns to blockish sheet rock and scree which can be sketchy but is generally easy and pleasant to walk upon. Up and up you go for an hour or so and voila! You stumble across the mountain pass with a classic cairn shrine to boot. As we rounded over the peak of the mountain pass we were confronted with a vista of Glacier Gray, a mile wide and 30 miles long. The surrounding snowy mountain peaks each house several smaller glaciers which spill into Glacier Gray. The weather was perfect and clear and allowed for a rare panorama of the entire glacier from end to end. This spot is special. The clean air of this lightly tread mountain pass is, in my opinion, the best part of the entire trek. The towers were great of course, but this was so much bigger than that and the feeling of awe and disbelief for that sight is still with me.



And a slightly different shot with the wide angle....

Our last day was quite cold and the perfect weather we had all week seemed to finally take a turn. Layered in wool sweaters and down jackets, we scooted out of the camp--we were most likely the first to wake as we were up by 7 and gone by 8. Clouds obscured the towers from view, but created perfect conditions for walking and admiring the views, as the bright sun was not pounding so harshly upon the landscape. We had to cover 11 miles by lunchtime if we wanted to make the afternoon bus, so it behooved us to set out before the large clusters of tour groups clogged the trail as we were no longer in the back country.



Camping at Dickson on the peninsula on the left.

Notably, as long as you are out and about by 8 or so, you will have at least two hours of peaceful time to yourself on the trail. Tour groups leave around 9:30, and by then you will have likely left them far behind. While in the back country, we tended to sleep late and leave late as we wanted to take our time in the more peaceful sections of the park. Twelve hours of sleep each night and leaving camp by 10 or even 11 is pretty average for hikers out here, and even then, we were often the first to break camp!



Almost 1/4 of Glacier Gray from the mountain pass.

Torres del Paine Circuit

Bussing into the park, we hit the trail and scooted up the mountain past large clusters of tourists. The cloudless sky allowed the sun to beat mercilessly upon us as we trudged up the trail with our heavy packs. 8 days of food weighs a fair amount, especially when carrying a lunch as exotic as carrots, peaches, avocado, and cheese. Such a feast, however, is reserved only for the energetic legs of day 1. It would be nothing but tuna, rice, beans, and cheese after that. Yet compared to other hikers, we ate like kings, and probably had enough chocolate to survive from it alone.



Really great photo, Will!

Arriving early in the afternoon at our campsite, we napped, ate a quick dinner, and scampered 45 minutes up to the lookout to watch the sun set. Will was bolder than I, and committed to rising at 5 am to watch the sunrise at the lookout. I witnessed one Patagonian sunrise in Bariloche and deemed myself exempt from the responsibility. I had no regrets for trading the sunrise for a few extra hours of sleep, but it was certainly spectacular. With a few basic tips, Will took some fantastic shots (one of which you already saw).



Torres del Paine from Laguna Amarga at the park entrance.

We left the mountains for the trail that would wind through the pampas and take us to the first backcountry campsite, Seron. The going was easy, only one hill (sort of) and the flat river valley proved to be quite pretty. The variety of grasses ranged from soft mauve brushes and delicately carved wheats which whispered as our legs brushed their tips. The attractive scenerycame as a relief to us, as the hike had started out being rather underwhelming. Walking along a poorly maintained gravel driveway for several miles when you paid a park entrance fee of $30 for a world class trek would come as a surprise to anybody.



Sunrise photo by Will

Torres del Paine National Park is a sadly mismanaged park. Will pointed out that there is just as much damage to the famous burn from this past January as the privately owned land... Cattle and horses displace guanacos (an endangered and endemic type of llama) from the pampas in the private section of the park--i never actually saw any wildlife in the park, save for a single condor. Pack horses supplying the refugios with an assortment of overpriced cookies, tuna, and beer erode the hiking trails more than a gaggle of inexperienced hikers--of which there are plenty. I could list the issues for an hour, but I will focus instead on the adventure we had, which despite the faults of the park, was good.




Arriving at Seron, we were quick to identify the insect which would determine what we would be wearing for the rest of the evening and part of our hike the next day: the mosquito. The cloud of mosquitoes surrounding my head made it impossible to think. I donned my rain jacket and pants and pulled the drawstring so only my eyes peeked out from my hood. Even Will was being mauled by the bloodsuckers! Apparently he is not immune to South American bugs, which I took some vengeance based pleasure in knowing. :)

We were in our tent the second dinner was done cooking and stuck for the rest of the night. Before I fell asleep, I counted around 200 mosquitoes and by midnight when Will awoke to a 1 liter water bottle of bladder pressure, he observed the convulsing tent covered in over 800 mosquitoes. We practically ran out of the campsite the next morning, despite our 40 and 50 pound packs.

Sneak peak at our Torres del Paine trek....

Torres del Paine, 6:15 a.m. Just before the sunrise... Photo taken by Will! I preferred to sleep in since I already did a sunrise stint at our last camping foray....and there is a 45 minute hike up the mountain. Will managed to borrow a tripod which is why it's such a fantastically clean shot.

Photos and stories later.... I need to process everything!

8 Days of Food

Leaving tomorrow to do the 6 to 9 day Torres del Paine circuit. Why the wide range of days? You never know what the weather will do. Last week they received 1.5 feet of snow and had to close part of the circuit. This week it's supposed to be sunshine and daisies at 70 degrees. Three minutes from now, Armageddon will come, but not to worry, will dissipate within the hour. We plan to do the 65+ mile trek in 7 days (Why do it in six if its so beautiful?!) but have extra food in case of bad weather.



8 days of food! This includes an entire kilo of Milo (that chocolate cereal in the back that is a double size...note how it dwarfs the 1 liter water bottle next to it), a pound of dry black beans, and best of all..... THE GIANT TOBLERONE that cost $5 because we are in a tax free zone!

Remaining Parque Nacional Los Glaciares Photographs

One of many quirky bridges spanning the park's deep waterways. They're stable enough, but we didn't dally lest an old log give way or a gust of wind knocked us into the water.