Around-the-World with Drew & Erin: Chile

Join The Blogging Post as we head around-the-world with our friends Drew & Erin. They’ll be sending us regular dispatches and updates from around, across, and all over the globe. This is their second post from Chile…

Journeys in Patagonia, Part 1

A few hours into our first evening in Puerto Natales – the leaping-off point for our intended destination, Torres del Paine National Park (TdP) – the skies opened up, and it started to rain. For the next several days while we were planning our trip, buying food and bus tickets, and making our last-minute preparations for an extended backcountry outing in the park, the weather did not let up. In fact, it got progressively worse - colder, windier, and then snowier.

Early in our stay there the wife of the friendly couple who owned the hostel where we were staying assured me that it never snows down in the town of Puerto Natales near sea level, only at higher elevations in the mountains. We woke the next day to a winter wonderland of white snow in town and the surrounding foothills, after which she apologized while laughing. I was slightly less amused.

As Erin and I came to grips with the deteriorating weather situation, we gained a greater appreciation for the stark realities of Patagonia. Mother Nature was in charge, we were not. I understood Patagonian weather to be notoriously bad, but I have to admit it exceeded my expectations for extremeness and craziness.

We had arrived down south with the lofty goals of doing “The Circuit,” an eight-day loop hike in TdP that encompasses all of the main features of the park. We soon found out that The Circuit was closed, as an avalanche resulting from the recent heavy snowfalls had made a portion of the track impassable. Then, night after night back at our hostel, we spoke with beaten and battered trekkers who had been whipped in the park by wind and rain and had now retreated. Things were not shaping up as we had envisioned.

Ultimately, with our backpacks packed and tickets in hand for a bus to the park early the next morning, we did not know what to do. It had been raining and snowing and blowing sideways every day and night since we arrived, and we thought we would be crazy to venture out in these conditions. We were on the verge of pushing back our bus tickets a few days to let the weather improve when we spoke to the husband of the couple that owns the hostel.

As he runs an outdoor adventure business in the area and was clearly speaking from experience, we trusted his advice. He told us, “If you decide to wait until the weather clears up, you could be waiting for two days or you could be waiting for thirty days. Just take the bus tomorrow, get into the park, and see what happens. You’ll have a much better sense there – a few hours away – then you will back here in town.” OK, it was settled. We were going for it and would set off the next day. It sure was amazing, however, that our lofty goals had been reduced so suddenly. Now we just wanted a glimpse of the mountains and to get out of there alive. We had been humbled already.

The next morning dawned as wet and cold as the rest. Over breakfast that morning, Erin and I literally spoke of a “feeling of doom” about our impending trip.. not my usual state of mind as I am heading into a backcountry trip. The drive to the park that morning was actually not that bad, though. It was overcast but with little precipitation. We spotted guanacos (llama-like animals), rheas (big ground birds like ostriches), and pink flamingoes on the scenic drive. Then as we actually entered the park and approached the guardaparque (park ranger office), it started to snow so heavily it was comical – major dumpage that accumulated fast. I figured we had made a mistake to come this day, but now we were committed.

As we cruised across Lago Pehoe (Lake Pehoe) by ferry on the way to our trailhead, the wind was whipping fiercely, but we actually caught some glimpses of the mountains amidst a stormy tantrum of snow and wind. As we departed the ferry boat, we walked past all of the trekkers who were waiting in line to get on the boat for the return trip to civilization. They were a sorry-looking group, and the Patagonian weather had clearly and visibly taken its toll on them.

In light of all this, Erin and I decided that we would be patient with the weather and try not to expose ourselves too much to its wrath, hoping to wait things out until more settled weather arrived. As a result, we decided to camp at the campsite right where the ferry let off and not to hike that first day.

Ultimately, our plan worked quite well and we managed to fight through some adverse -although not terrible - conditions those first few days, and then the weather gradually improved as the trip went on. In the end, we completed a modified version of the “W” trek, its name derived from the shape or pattern of the hike on a map. The second day we did a day hike to Glacier Grey, a massive glacier spilling into Lago Grey (Lake Grey). In those first few days, we caught some incredible views of Paine Grande – the tallest peak in the area - and Los Cuernos (the horns), massive structures of multi-colored stone - a black sedimentary layer of shale capping a lighter grayish-white metamorphic layer below. One of the typical highlights of the trip – the hike up Valle Frances (French Valley) which represents the center part of the W – was cut short when we encountered waist-deep snow halfway up the valley. But even from that standpoint, the views of the mountains, glaciers, and lakes were incredible – amidst an ever-changing swirl of wind and snow.

Five days into the trip, Erin and I could not have been more pleased with how it was turning out. We had been tested and challenged by the weather – having faced rain, snow, sleet, and heavy winds – but we had not been defeated. It had actually been enjoyable. We had seen some great vistas of the area during stretches of decent weather, and we had also met and bonded with some of the other hearty souls hiking on the trails – and facing the trials – along with us. All this and we did not realize that the best was still ahead.

The final day of the trip was to be a day hike up to the Torres (towers), which are the crown jewel of the park. I awoke before dawn to crystal-clear skies and scampered up to a higher vantage point to watch sunrise on the Torres. It was breathtaking. The rest of the day was similarly clear with Colorado-like bluebird skies – by far, the best weather of the trip. After breakfast, we hiked through icy and slippery forest trails up Valle Ascencio (Ascent Valley) and then climbed a moderately steep slope through thigh-deep snow to arrive at the final mirador (viewpoint) of the Torres. The view was astounding – three colossal towers of rock shooting thousands of feet straight up into the sky with a bright blue-green tarn below and an active glacier spilling into that. It was one of the finest alpine scenes that I have ever witnessed and was a fitting and rewarding climax to my first Patagonian journey.

PHOTOS

Photo #1 - Our first sight of the mountans, a stormy Paine Grande
Photo #2 - Iceberg in Lago Grey
Photo #3 - Guanaco on the trail
Photo #4 - Los Cuernos at sunset
Photo #5 - The Torres del Paine