Puerto Natales - Gateway to Torres Del Paine and the W Trek

March 24, 2011

Advertised as one of the best trekking spots in the world and the best park in South America, Torres del Paine National Park was my eagerly anticipated next stop. I crossed back to Chile from Argentina, only a five hour bus ride including time spent passing through a rigorous border post where each of our bags were scanned, arriving in Puerto Natales, the gateway to the national park. Puerto Natales is a small grid of flat, mostly treeless blocks, lined with a few small markets, clothing stores, quaint lodging and outdoor shops catering to the masses of tourists that pass through the town on the way to the park. In addition, this is also the starting/ending point for Navimag cruises, a ship journey four days long through the Southern fjords of Chile, originally beginning as a few stowaways on a cargo ship and evolving into an expensive and popular option for tourists in the region. I considered the cruise, but after spending 11 days on a boat in Antarctica and hearing more than a few stories of incessant rain and obscured views, I opted against it. Despite being a relative tourist hub, it does manage to retain some charm, particularly thanks to its scenic setting at the edge of a few channels, looking across the water to a few rows of beautiful mountains sinking down into the deep water below. There's also a milodon statue greeting you as you come into town, as well as a little logo on all of the street signs, marking the fact that fossils of this prehistoric massive sloth-like beast was found in the area.

My roommate from Antarctica, Tim, had worked in Puerto Natales for five weeks, so he recommended a place to stay, though it was full, and I ended up in another of the small hostels/homestay sort of arrangements that are popular in town. As it turned out, the place was amazing and one of the best places I've stayed in. The Yaganhouse (named for the local indigenous people) is basically just a two story house converted to guest rooms with nice staff, a welcoming feel and an incredible breakfast (rare for Latin America). I spent a day meandering around the small town, finding a few local restaurants and more importantly, sorting out rentals of a few essentials for my next days of trekking. Being a hotspot for trekkers, it's quite easy to find rentals of anything ranging from sleeping bags and tents to waterproof clothing and portable cooking gear at many of the shops and hostels in town. The weather in the park is completely unpredictable, one of those cliched places where you can experience four seasons in one day. With my heavy pack, I didn't have room or the desire to pack any specific hiking gear, so I rented a pair of waterproof pants, a sleeping bag and a tent. I considered a sleeping mat to help make the ground a little softer and keep me off the cold surface, but I just didn't feel like carrying any more, so I decided against it. I also hoped for good weather considering I'd just be walking in my running shoes (the only pair I bring on trips), so if they got wet, it might be a few miserable, sloshy days on the trail.

Within the park, there are two main hiking routes - the W and the Full Circuit. The W is named for its approximate outline, as you hike in and out of a few valleys, while the Full Circuit includes the W plus a loop around the backside of the mountains. The park can get fairly crowded during the peak summer periods around November to February, so I was happy to be arriving at the end of the season, just before it would be getting really cold and require more extreme gear. This meant there would be less people on the trail and at the campsites, allowing me to not plan ahead to book any campsites or lodges in advance, as well as hopefully giving a little more solitude along the trail. Some hikers opt for guides (and some places even tell you it's required), but this is certainly not the case, as many people go on their own, either continuing on that way or joining up with other groups as they march along. The W can be done in 3 long days or 4 more relaxed ones, while the Full Circuit typically takes something like 5-7 days, depending on speed and endurance. Figuring that I'd rather take my time to soak in the epic scenery, I decided I'd do the trek in four days, instead of trying to simply rush through it and treat it like a fitness routine instead of an escape to nature.

So I hopped on the early morning bus from Puerto Natales to the park (the good thing about being a tourist hub is that there are good, easy connections a few times during the day to the park), took a little nap as we drove into the darkness and awoke as the sun began to shine, revealing a wonderful landscape. Nearing the park, we passed wild, yellow grasslands and a few rows of medium sized mountains near the horizon, a taste of some typical Patagonian scenery. As we got closer and moved onto the dirt road, the iconic mountains of the park appeared, looming largely over the grasslands and bit of forest below. The name of the park, Torres Del Paine (Towers of Paine), refers to three peaks of this clump of mountains that stand tall and thin, not unlike popsicles, jutting out from the other mountains on either side. Paine (PIE-nay) apparently means 'blue' in the language of the indigenous people, possibly refer to the color of the water in the lakes or the slight bluish tint to the amazing peaks, though many people like to think it just means the Towers of Pain, which sounds like a menacing wrestling duo or something. Just around the area of the park entrance, we saw a few groups of guanacos, large light brown camelids and relative of llamas, though they tend to stay out on the edges of the park, away from where any of the tourists walk.

At the park entrance, some trekkers got off the bus and some of us opted to go further on, depending on which direction was chosen to do the trek. Doing some reading, I found that it seemed a little more popular to trek from East to West (starting there at the park entrance at the first stop), though supposedly winds would be more at your back and you could have better views of some of the mountains from West to East, so I chose the latter option, also because it may mean less groups of hikers following alongside during the entire trip. As we passed further into the park with our diminished group, the scenery was incredible. Beautiful lakes of blue and light green in the foreground, backed by small grassy hillsides and the incredible mountains behind. In addition to the Torres, the other icons of the park are the Cuernos (The Horns). These curved peaks have been eroded away, leaving behind slightly curved peaks that form the shape of devil horns. On top of the shape of the exposed rocks, ancient magma flows penetrated the bedrock and have left behind a massive black streak through the upper part of the mountain, leaving just a small portion of the lighter bedrock on the tips of the horns, making for a dramatic look.

I still hadn't exactly figured out my planned itinerary when we got to the next bus stop, a spot where most people take the midday ferry (there are three a day during summer and two a day during shoulder season) to the Western edge of the trail and begin their hike. I had thought I would take the noon ferry and get across to start my walk, but I also wanted to go see a nearby waterfall and lookout point for the Cuernos, so I asked the driver if I had time to make it there and back before the ferry left. I had read it would take about an hour each way, and I had about an hour and 45 minutes before the boat would leave, so I thought if I ran, I could probably make it to both sights in time and make it back to the ferry. Thinking more about it, I realized that I'd like to just take my time, and I'm very glad I did. I left my large pack leaning outside the guard station (a common thing to do there), and I followed the trail, moving up a hill along the edge of a minty green lake called Pehoe. In just 10 or 15 minutes, I arrived at the Salto Grande (large waterfall), a powerful drop of about 15-20 meters as large amounts of water flow down from one lake to the next through a narrow channel in the rock.

After the waterfall, I hiked along to the lookout, passing the edge of another lake and being blown back by strong gusts of wind coming off the water, down from the surrounding mountains. Most of the vegetation here is windswept shrubs and bushes with a few smaller trees hanging on for dear life. In the end, it took me about 35-40 minutes to get to the lookout, so I probably would have had time to get there and back, but I was happy with my decision to take my time. In front of me was the large Lake Nordenskjold below the bench perched at the top of the hill, and just beyond the lake stood the impressive Cuernos and backing mountains. This is one of the perfect views that attracted me to the park in the first place, so I was really, really happy with my split-second decision not to miss the lookout point. Knowing that I had six hours before the next boat would leave, I took my time to relax and soak in the incredible views all around. As I sat on the bench, the weather went from mild to cold, overcast and drizzling to calm and almost clear to gusting winds that almost blow you off the path. A few other people came and went, presumably day visitors to the park, but I was actually surprised that I was the only hiker in the area during my few hours there. I presume most people are in such a rush to get to the trails that they overlook this small part of the park, and it's a shame since it's such a beautiful and sometimes quiet spot. After an hour or two, as the darker weather was coming in, I had started to head back, but just a few minutes back along the trail, I changed my mind and headed back for the viewpoint, and this proved to be another good choice, with the weather changing again and giving me another hour or two to enjoy the area.

Finally, I made my way back, happy to find my bag still waiting for me on the side of the hut and walking over to the ferry with just about ten of us on that last ferry, including Silke, a Dutch woman that was on my Antarctica trip, and her travelling friend that just joined her. The ferry across Lake Pehoe was also a beautiful trip and the spot for many of the advertising photos used for the park. Above the green water of the lake, the Cuernos stand tall and dark, though that's assuming that clouds are not covering the capricious peaks. After 20 or 30 minutes, we arrived at the Paine Grande campsite and lodge, an impressive spot featuring beautiful views of the side of the peaks, a huge camping area and a nice set of rooms. I had initially considered staying in some of the lodges along the way instead of camping, but even the shared rooms are around $40-50 per night, so I decided to save money and do the trek the traditional way. That being said, one of the main attractions of the park is that you can experience the amazing scenery while still staying in decent lodges with food and showers at the end of each night.

As darkness and a bit of drizzle was setting in for the night, I quickly set up my tent, hoping it would all work correctly, since I was lazy and didn't actually test everything before I came out with the rental gear. Luckily everything worked, though my sleeping bag was a bit short, but that was to be expected. The ground was a little hard with a few rocks poking into my side as I slept, but it didn't really matter. I had a small, boring dinner, as I had decided as a single hiker that I didn't want to bother with carrying any cooking gear, and I was fortunate enough to find one of the two jars of peanut butter in the village (Tim wasn't able to find one in stock in all of his five weeks there), so I just brought along bread, peanut butter, some fruit, two pre-made rice dishes from the supermarket, peanuts, chips and lots of granola for breakfast and snacks. The small outer dining room was loud and crowded with campers preparing predictable pasta dishes and other simple plates, so I imagine it would be almost out of control during the summer months. Nevertheless, I headed off to bed and couldn't wait to get going on the trek the next morning.

(The impressive Salto Grande (Big Falls) near the central stop inside Torres Del Paine National Park. Note the tiny people on the rock for some scale.)

(Instead of rushing off to begin the trekking, I decided to take the time to walk to the Cuernos lookout point alongside Lake Nordenskjold. Most hikers rushed off to begin the trail that afternoon, but I was glad to have taken the time to enjoy the waterfall and lookout point before just heading over to the first campsite and deciding to defer my hike until the next morning. I'd definitely recommend taking the time for this lookout, as few people stop by, and it's one of the best overall views of the lake and incredible mountains lining the other side.)

(The blue green water of Lake Pehoe comes from the glacial silt suspended in the water, coming down from the glaciers sitting on top of the nearby mountains.)

(The beautiful and iconic Cuernos Del Paine (Horns of Paine), the symbol of the epic national park. This park is advertised as one of the best in South America, and the first views didn't disappoint. The view is from the ferry taking us across Lake Pehoe over to the Paine Grande lodge and campsite.)

(I spent the night at the Paine Grande campsite, sitting at the base of a few massive mountains. The amazing setting was just a taste of the incredible scenery to come in the 4 day trek around the park.)

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Perito Moreno Glacier, Glaciares National Park

March 22, 2011

An ice blue glacier wedged up into a panorama of surrounding mountains and forests, fronted by a large lake, Perito Moreno glacier is one of the more iconic natural scenes in Argentina, and that was the next stop on my journey. Perito Moreno was an important fighter in Argentinian history, but now the name is more well-known, at least among tourists, as the huge glacier in Southern Patagonia.

I spent one more day in Ushuaia, taking time to relax and hang out with the members of our Antarctica group as we all began to head our separate ways, including a late night meeting at the obligatory Irish bar that graces any tourist town these days. Leaving Ushuaia, a combination of buses and border crossings took me up into Chilean territory, then back across to Argentina, arriving just in time to Rio Grande to miss one connecting bus, leaving me stranded at the bus station in the middle of nowhere for another four hours before the next bus came to take me to El Calafate, arriving a little after dark that night. The 15 hours of bus rides and connections was a bit tiring, but it was still interesting to see the flat, wind-blown landscapes of this region of Patagonia, mostly filled with long stretches of yellow grasslands and farms, dotted with just a hint of windswept trees, leaning hard to one side as a result of the unfettered gusts that blow across the land.

El Calafate is another of Argentina's tourist hubs, the gateway to the iconic Perito Moreno glacier. The small town is lined with wooden buildings and cottages, restaurants, souvenir shops and a few travel agencies. Despite the commercial leaning to the place, it still maintains a pleasant feel among its grid of 10 or 20 square blocks that make up the tourist center of the city. To me, similar to my thought in Ushuaia, it had the sort of feel of a ski resort town during the summer, friendly and laid-back with plenty on offer for the tourists visiting the place. Nevertheless, I had come for the glacier, so I hopped on the short bus ride that morning and headed off for Los Glaciares National Park. Moving out of the city, we skirted the edge of a large, dark blue lake, moving through a wide, shallow valley, closing in on the imposing mountains along the horizon. Small yellow and green bushes dotted the valley, though the majority was just a scenic prairie, eventually sprouting trees as we got closer to the mountains. Just as we entered the park, we came upon the next major lake, following along the edge of the water, looking across to a small series of jagged ridges with bits of snow capping the tops. Clumps of clouds came and went above us, and I hoped for the best as we soon arrived at the boat launch along the lake's edge.

Some visitors opt first for a boat tour of the glacier, heading up to the face without getting too close as to where the falling ice and resulting waves would affect the boat. I decided to just take in the view from the walkways, so I continued on with the bus, up the winding road leading to the main parking lot. Once there, it was an easy 10 minute walk down the boardwalks and stone paths through the green forest to the series of lookouts over the glacier. Shining back at me, the iridescent blue of Perito Moreno glacier was revealed, wedged between two dark green wooded mountainsides. The face of the glacier stretches widely in a semicircle, dropping off into the lake below. At the apex of the semicircle, the mass of ice reaches quite close to shoreline, closing the lake down to a narrow flow of water and ice, not much wider than an ordinary creek, though the icy lake widens back out into two huge reservoirs on either side of the glacier, forming Lago Argentino, the largest lake in Argentina. Soaring up to 60 meters high (200 feet) at the face and stretching 30 kilometers deep and 5 kilometers wide, this is a truly spectacular glacier.

The massive piece of ice is stunning in its own right, and coupled with the backdrop of slivers of the Andean ridge that separates Argentina from Chile, the setting is pretty remarkable. Walking further down the boardwalks, I got a closer view of the imposing ice wall, fronted by mini icebergs broken up by their recent fall from the glacier into the lake below. Staring at the light blue wall, I followed the cracks and pillars, noting the strange lines and shapes formed by the ever-changing ice. The beautiful silence of the natural setting was interrupted occasionally by a passing tour group but more often by small pieces of the glacier calving away, producing a sound akin to that of thunder, following by a loud clap as the ice hit the still water below. I watched for cracks, trying to predict the next piece to fall and witnessing a few awe-inspiring moments as the dynamic landscape dropped a few huge pieces and even one whole column of ice, pounding into the water below as it broke away into a few large pieces of ice that would very slowly float away into the lake before melting. Small arches, caves and pinnacles form precariously here, crunching together to form something slightly resembling a bottom row of very crooked teeth. Perito Moreno glacier is also one of the fastest advancing glaciers in the world, sometimes moving forward at a rate of 2 meters per day (over 6 feet), meaning that there is almost always plenty of action to be seen as the front of the glacier falls away into the water, just before reaching the other side of the valley.

With the clouds overhead and hints of rain and wind, the day had the potential to be very cold, though fortunately, the sun popped out often from behind the clouds, warming up the surroundings and illuminating the omnipresent glacier in its varying spectrum of blue and white. The interesting thing about this portion of the park is that the parking lot is so close to the glacier that there's really not that much to do in terms of hiking, so I decided to take the boardwalks around the side of the glacier, leaving the view of the ice behind and finding another nice mountain lake, ringed by the high ridges and blown by the strong winds coming off the water. After a while of relaxing away from the other tourists, I headed back for a few final looks at the glacier, noting even more chunks of ice in the water as pieces continued to fall in the warmer daytime temperatures.

Glaciar Perito Moreno is definitely an incredible sight, a true masterpiece of ice and mountains juxtaposed together, though I can't help but think I would have been even more impressed if I hadn't come straight from Antarctica, a land filled with massive glaciers. Even so, it was definitely worth the time spent though, but in hindsight, I probably should have visited this spot first to give it its proper due. I made my way back to El Calafate on the bus, getting ready to cross back over to Chile the next day on my way down to Puerto Natales and the stunning national park of Torres Del Paine.

(A small part of the blue face of Perito Moreno glacier. This wall of ice is nearly 60 meters high in most parts.)

(Nestled in between a few mountains and a green forest, the setting of the glacier is amazing. The melting water also forms Lago Argentino, the largest lake in the country.)

(The front of the glacier stretches around 5 kilometers wide, so this is just one side of the U-shaped front. At its peak, the glacier almost touches the near side of the lake, leaving just a tiny channel of water in between the glacier and the forest.)

(The glacier is one of the most accessible and fastest advancing in the world, moving forward about 6 feet per day, meaning that there is plenty of calving/falling ice action to be observed.)

(A few massive columns broke off while I was watching, sounding like thunder as the ice cracks and breaks, creating a huge splash and resulting wave in the water below. Here you can see the spray coming off the water after a fairly large piece fell off. If you wait for the sound, it's already too late to see the carnage. I guess that could be a life lesson.)

(From the parking lot are a few easy trails/boardwalks taking you down to the incredible views only 10 or 20 minutes away, one of the reasons why this place is so popular.)

(Me and the glacier. I was lucky to have decent bits of sunlight during the day, mixed in with some rain and cold wind, just to keep us guessing. This glacier was spectacular, surely one of the best in the world, though I couldn't help but think that I would have been much more awed if I hadn't just come straight from Antarctica. Still, it was a fantastic place.)

(Looking off to the other side of the glacier. At times, there are huge ice arches stretching almost to the other side, but they frequently collapse. Boats also run up to this edge of the glacier, but I didn't think it was worth the extra money, as you get almost as close from the boardwalk, without the package tour groups.)

(Though most people just sit and stare in awe at the glacier, the short trails around the backside offer some pretty nice mountain and lake scenery, with far more solitude.)

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