Los Cuernos
After the recharge in Ushuaia I reunite with my travelling group as they lounge around Mario's living room at his home in Punta Arenas waiting for him to return from parent teacher interviews so we could organise dinner. It's a tough twelve hour ride to arrive, freezing conditions on the mountains above Ushuaia where the early morning icy road comes without much warning, the strong head winds, border crossings and poor road conditions mean I miss the scheduled ferry and take a detour to get on board the smaller boat across the strait. In such a scarce location I wonder where the next gas station is when returning to the continent with less than half a tank so I decide to pull over and wave down the next car that eventually passes. The man stops, winds down his window and says it's not for over another 100km's or so which leaves me in a bad spot. At second though he remembers one which may be open off the highway and tells me to follow him until the crossroads where I should turn to the left. I eventually find it and not long after he's pulled over on the side of the road with his boot open waiting for me and showering me with a can of coke, coffee from a thermos, biscuits and a long chat. Gonzalo is yet another middle aged Chilean man who makes me feel welcome for entering his country. I only stayed at Mario's for a night, heading off with Phil, Ian, a new backpack and four litres of engine oil, we lost Jayne who was heading east but now included Dan, a friendly Californian, who we met in Ushuaia. The four of us pushed it through to Puerto Natales that afternoon stopping halfway as the lack of any petrol stations forced me to siphon from Phil's tank before running out. The joke was on me when Ian offered me a big black hose to use which make it difficult to not get petrol caught in my mouth and the taste to remain through the day. Only once I had struggled did Phil presented a much thinner translucent hose to finish the job. Phil and Ian's schedules brought on a farewell and one last night of drinking and Ian offering up his guitar skills at the open mic bar before Dan and I prepared for our ventures in the nearby Torres del Paine National Park.
I planned on spending eight days or so in the park and I'm glad I managed to get through it. It was one of the most enriching experiences of my trip, to wander amongst legendary mountains and granite walls, along turquoise lakes and glacial fields, across rivers and up and over the John Gardner pass to descend into a heavenly valley. Eight days of confronting whatever the unpredictable Southern Patagonian autumn weather wanted to through at me, setting up camp every night, trying to outsmart the camp rangers to avoid paying the fees, growing tired of dehydrated meals, running short of chocolate and nuts and hiking through 120km's of the full 'Q' circuit and one of the worlds classic hiking routes. It wasn't too difficult other than the 5:30 subzero rise for the sunrise view of the Torres, hiking through snow on the 1,200m ascent on reaching the pass and the ever strong winds on Day 4 which kept me up all night to preserve my tent whilst others around me tore away and forced my neighbours to sleep inside the refugios. I commenced alone with my 45 litre pack with tent strapped to the sides and although I preferred to walk mostly alone, I joined up with some friends I made early on every evening to share dinner and portions of some days walking. Cherlotte and Jean-Beautiste we're experienced hikers, being around them taught me to take in as much as possible of what was around me. Sharing the arduous hike together on the second day up and over the pass followed by a long descent through a deep valley and muddy woodlands will stay with me forever. I was so exhausted that evening that when I woke to a deserted campsite the following afternoon I realised I had slept 16 hours to recover. 16 hours in a tent on hard ground in a cold forest. The other group on the same circuit was an American-German trio who were also great company to have dinner with and have a laugh and share each others reactions or struggles over the day's events.
A few days in I really began to appreciate this different approach to experiencing the natural world and seeking a fresh peace of mind. I walked for hours, stopping to drink from the clear streams, to sit silently at a viewpoint above a lake or glacier or to take a breather to chat to a hiker coming the other way to discuss conditions after passing no one for a couple of hours.
Hiking thus far had not taken me to such wild places for such a period of time and although I've always enjoyed the views and perspective from the seat of my motorcycle and still do as much as ever, the physical and uncompromising effort was having a real impact. The surroundings felt more peaceful, it was wet but I was far from cold, there was no man made engine between my legs to move me, no tank of fuel where it's energy was derived from beneath the earth and certainly no clutch and gears to adjust when the climb was adding a little strain. There was just my legs, a series of clothing layers and unavoidable sweating. I was reminded of and found some clarity to what an avid hiker I met in Ushuaia said to me, that she was a better person when in the mountains. Places like these, moments like these, keep us honest and humble, the physical exertion frees our mind and the wilderness speaks a raw truth which cannot be avoided.
Above are the 'Torres del Paine', the signature piece of the park. Jean-Bautiste woke me before sunrise for the hour hike up to the lakes surface in anticipation for the moment when the sun would rise over and reach the towers. This vision will also stay with me forever, the sun's rays striking the granite towers as if declaring the dawn of time.
Hiking along Glacier Grey for two days which is on the edge of the Southern Patagonian ice field, the world's third larger continuous sheet of ice after Antarctica and Greenland.
I took a couple of rest days on returning to Puerto Natales before crossing back to Argentina for an early morning visit to Glacier Perito Moreno further north. A great view of the ice from the balconies, hearing a thundering crack and anticipating a large chunk to crash into the waters but not quite as enjoyable as being able to walk alongside it for hours like in the park.
I was next on my way to El Chaiten, the home of two of the Andes most prominent peaks, Cerro Torre and Mt. Fitzroy. It's a cosy little town, not as overrun as it could easily be with the tourist interest and find a warm young family to stay with. I spent three days hiking around the park here, the autumn chill had really turned campers away so I find my tracks aren't covered much by others who have mainly arrived for day trips into the park. I experience some cold nights and wake to snow covered forests. The hiking here is as good as I've come across, the woodlands, strong and healthy rivers and some breathtaking mountain tops.
Reaching the lake at the base of Mt Fitzroy mid-morning in the glistening sunshine makes you feel on top of the world. I hope the photo says enough here, my best attempt at describing the Patagonian Andes. Makes you dream of wanting to become a rock-climber. I had the pleasure of gazing at this part of the mountain range for about 70km's on the ride into the town which sits directly below it however, at this proximity the detail and complexity in the rock is so vivid, leaving you in awe and difficult to take your eyes off such a incredibly imposing and dramatic masterpiece.
Cerro Torre in full view after the snowing and clouds disappear
