As you can probably tell from that awful first paragraph, the days where I´m driving in desolate Patagonia are long and boring. The distances are vast and the towns are small and rural.The only thing this land has going for it is the nature. Otherwise this place would suck and be overpriced. Luckily for the residents, the outdoors are simply stunning during the summer months. I´ve gotten a good chance to see it while driving through and even (gasp!) taking some long distance hikes.
While in Ushuaia, I met some very cool Argintinian guys at my hostel. That night I join them in the kitchen and learn the sacred art of drinking beer and making empanadas. After they´re cooked and being served up, we make a bunch of new friends. It´s surprising how fast you can win new friends with little fried doughy pockets of awesome. As our table is filling up everyone is invited on an overnight hike through Tierra Del Fuego national park. Like usual, I´ve got nothing planned, so I accept the invitation and begrudgingly wake up early the next morning to embark. The group is now up to nine people: four wild Argentinian dudes, three responsible and friendly Israeli girls, one super fun Swiss guy, and one unprepared American.
The Israeli girls are smart and well prepared for the trek. They´ve bought enough food and got a map of our route. It´s a fifteen mile (25k) hike split between two days. It doesn´t sound so bad. As we leave around eleven, I´m thinking we´ll be there relaxing at camp around five. Not exactly what happened, because as a large group we need to take plenty of snack and tea breaks. Whatever, I love snacks and tea, so I don´t mind the frequent stops. We do need to get to camp, so we all decide to hurry up at the hardest and steepest part. Then some funny shit starts happening. Poor Nikolas fell and got caught on a cable crossing on this shady river bridge. He was a bit bruised up, but generally ok. The best part was Josiah caught it all on tape. We must have watched that thing laughing hysterically maybe twenty, thirty times.Then German slips and falls into a river getting himself and his sleeping bag wet in the process. Ouch, going to be a cold night. Then as the trail steeply declines I go knee high into mud. Thank goodness for my absurdly high motorcycle boots. Of course a few people fall down, (always funny) and one poor German girl we met along the way got caught into some deep mud. It was like quicksand dragging her down. But eventually we all successfully make it to camp at Laguna del Caminante. We set up camp, and since it´s bitterly cold. We all gather some wood and proceed to make a huge bonfire right in front of the "no fires" sign. (That´s right, I like to live dangerously.) The fire is hot and comforting, so we all pull up stumps or logs and bond for hours over nature´s TV.
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| Excellent excellent people. |
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| Tea and snack break. Score! |
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| Great people in a great place. |
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| A little "Into the wild" at the other side of the planet. |
It took two long days to reach Puerto Natales, Chile from Ushuaia, but when I meet up with my old pals from the earlier trek, it makes it all worthwhile. We spend a night and a day farting around the little city trying to get a game plan for the hike. The Israelis are again responsible (must be all that army training) and attend a hour lecture on what´s in store. The lecture is in Hebrew, so I take it upon myself to find some other Americans and start pregaming for the Superbowl. My plan works excellent. I get to watch Ben Rapelessberger and the Steelers go down before I start packing. I know it´s four days long, but figure it´s some walking and a lot of downtime camping. So I don´t bother asking many questions. I just follow the pack and load up on the bus.
It´s a couple hours by bus and boat, but we all make it to camp number one. We set up camp and then hit our first trail. The hike is called the "W" because it´s roughly that shape on the map. (It looks more like a saggy ass, but that´s not really an appealing name.) Anyway, the main draw is the impressive glaciers,lakes, and cool rock formations. Four hours later the group has somewhat split up because some members are more psyched then others. At the mid point, I get a fantastic view of my first glacier. It´s nice to take a break, and have a laugh at some poor kid who fell part way into the frozen lake. I eventually get down to the lake to eat some glacier ice (high quality h2o) and throw rocks at bigger pieces of ice. We all enjoy the fruit of our first days hike, then turn right back around and head back to camp. During the walk back I come to the realization that this is a hard core hike for those well prepared tourist adorned head to toe in North Face gear, carrying two hundred dollar walking sticks, and eating only lightweight military rations and power bars. Looks like my ripped jeans, motorcycle boots, and borrowed backpack made for a midget will just have to do. I make it back to camp at dusk just after ten.
Day two starts off at six thirty in the morning, and is much the same as the previous day. Lots of walking, but new fabulous nature. It turns out to be the of the easiest and therefore least spectacular day. Then comes grueling day three. Fuck. It´s about thirteen hours of hiking with a fully loaded backpack. Luckily the weather is nice and hot, so I take a much needed bath in the lake. (BTW glacier water is cold.) Then at lunch time after an extremely delicious lunch of crackers and tuna. (Sarcasm) I enjoy a nap riverside in the sunshine. As I´m groggily waking up, I see a random familiar face. It´s Arielle! What are the chances? This is the fifth country we´ve met up in. I just fucking love random fate. So we chat and catch up for a bit, but as we´re walking in different directions we hug and say farewell yet again. Maybe I´ll see her in Brazil.
Only six more hours of walking uphill until we get to camp. It´s a good thing I love walking uphill. (If only I could do it on the way back too!) Apparently I looked uncomfortable, because Doron offers some help by saying the backpack I have probably adjusts for height. So at the next stop, I´m able to adjust it from five foot little girl to six foot man. What a difference! I get some new energy as I feel I can cartwheel and hurdle mountains with the new fit and comfort. Too bad, there´s only like four total hours of carrying it left since the trips almost over. Anyhow, camp is actually set up in the daylight and dinner is cooked up early. Then since everyone is obviously pooped; we all easily drift to sleep awaiting the grand finale the following day.
Somehow everybody wake up on time at three thirty in the morning. It´s a steep one hour walk in the dark to reach the Torres (towers) Del Paine. It´s stunning to watch the sun rise and watch the monstrous rocks change colors. It definitely made the whole hike worthwhile. Afterwards, I´m surprised to discover that the Israelis didn´t think it was spectacular enough. Apparently in the prep talk, they were told that the colors were supposed to be more vivid and awesome in the morning sun. Totally shocked I decide to stay with a few survivors to see it again the following morning. I guess those crazy chicks were right because the following day as I´m sleeping and avoiding the cold wind. I´m awoken by oohs and aahs. Those huge rocks are legitimately golden in the morning light. Truly amazing. I´m glad I stayed the extra day.
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| Some much needed relaxing on day two |
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| Fighting the wind for a slightly better view. |
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| Meditation with Leo near the Glacier. |
Sadly (like always though) I´ve got to leave my new friends and book it to Buenos Aires. So we all say our goodbyes with hopes of reuniting later in the capital. I´m essentially out of money, (come on, uncle Sam!) so I´ve got to get some place where I can land a job and hopefully relax for a bit. Buenos Aires sounds like the right place, so I start the fifteen hundred mile (2,800k) journey early and plan on making the straight boring shot right there in hopefully about five days.
The riding at first is really tough, because of the high winds. It feels like I´ve got the bike leaned over to thirty degrees just to bear straight in the sixty mile an hour side wind. Then there are the trucks that roll by every minute. If I forget to duck under my tiny windshield, I get slammed with a huge wake of wind. It snaps my head back and pushes me to the edge of the road. Scary shit when, you´re trying to do anything to escape the awful boredom of the long straight drive. It was a constant battle, but after two days the wind eventually died down. Thanks goodness for that, but too bad there are still three boring ass days left. In the five days the scenery changed exactly twice, and every town (except Puerto Madryn) looked the same. Some runned down shitty version of Barstow. Though I would have stabbed a puppy for Barstow. At least they have an In-N-Out. Eventually after plenty of roadside naps, shady campsites, and plenty of boring hours singing and talking to myself on the bike. I do in fact make it to the big city. It´s time to settle down, get a job, and take a much needed pause from this crazy ass adventure.
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