Chile: Falling Off The Continent

After some sleepless nights, several bus and plane rides and a lot of dry camping food I'm back from an unforgettable 8-day adventure in Patagonia alive and wellŀ albeit with some creaky, sore ankles. 

Map of the region
Punta Arenas is the last town on the Chilean side

Patagonia Region de Magallanes y Antartica Chilena is the name of the southernmost and second-least populated place in Chile. It's world-renown for its spectacular national parks and expansive wilderness. The place is virtually untouched and is something of a geological and geographical wonder. This far south, you encounter everything from volcanoes to steppe-like plains and edenic small islands. And of course, the scraggy snowy remainder of the Southern Andes compose the backbone of the area. The weather and the terrain get odd and dodgy on this last little sliver of earth. Adventure beckoned and we all set off to spend Santa Semana hiking the Torres del Paine park.

Welcomed by the cozy small-town charm of Punta Arenas, my friends and I arrived in Patagonian territory last Friday afternoon. Arenas is as far south as you can go on continental South America. Several small islands exist below it, but it's as close as you can get to Antarctica without leaving the mainland. Just gazing out over the water and realizing I was in fact looking over the same strait that Magellan himself discovered and subsequently bequeathed his name was an awe-inspiring experience in itself. The entire week was peppered with these little moments and, however small, they made all the foot pain, back aches and cold nights more than worth it.

Catholic church in downtown Punta Arenas

Center of Punta Arenas

Local vendors sold everything from alpaca sweaters to jewelry and coffee mugs out of these little wagons

Magellan Statue
Legend says that kissing the Native's foot will guarantee a return to the town one day!

Punta Arenas was filled with quaint little cafes. Chocolatta quickly became a group favorite.

....I'm sure you can see why.

View of the Strait of Magellan

Meticulously trimmed hedges lined the paths of the town's famous cemetery  

From Punta Arenas we were off to Puerto Natales and then the Torres Del Paine National Park. In this part of the world you truly get the sense that you're at the very fringes of the earth. The scenery driving into Natales and the park included everything from wind-swept, endless rolling heathland to towering dark mountains and cliffs that seemed to rise out of nowhere in particular. More than anything, the scenery was devoid of towns, houses, stores or humans. Save for a few grazing sheep, the place seemed empty and untouched. I imagined it was what the world looked like beforeŀanything. 

"It's an orange sign. You can't miss it." 

After a quick briefing from the park rangers they basically turned us out onto the field and let us go. The first campsite was about a two hour hike away and night was falling so we wasted no time in hitting the trail and getting started. Unfortunately, the supposedly unmissable orange trail marker was non-existent which meant a lot of walking in the absolute wrong direction from where we were supposed to be going and aimlessly wandering around a field until someone spotted the orange pole "trail marker" hidden in the middle of the grass.  Yeah, Patagonia!

First afternoon on the trail 

Rio Paine by the first campsite

We ended up having a breezy, starry first night. After trekking for three hours, it was more than rewarding to look out over the grassy, moonlit valley toward the river and hear nothing but the wind cascading down the mountain sides and the trickling of the creek. 

In the morning we headed off toward Lake Pehoe and onto another campsite called Camp Italiano. Although it's lengthy  (about seven hours of hiking), this trek is commonly thought of the most beautiful in the park. We walked through seemingly infinite amber valleys toward regal blue mountains in the distance, charred forests filled with the eerily beautiful black-and-white skeletons of burnt trees, and struggled up (and down) rocky, twisting trails that hugged perfect blue rivers and lakes. 

Lake Pehoe

And then it rained. Tuesday morning found us exhausted, sleep-deprived, wringing out our clothes and rearranging our trekking routes. A few of us decided to back track to another camp ground and see the park by making day hikes while the others decided to soldier on and finish the circuit. We took a quick trip up to the French Valley then headed back to the refugio campsite. From there we hiked to Glacier Grey, which ended up being the favorite site of the trip. 

The French Valley

Trail to the refugio campground

On the trail to Glacier Grey 

View from the top: Glacier Grey

Sadly, my feet started to fail me sometime between seeing Glacier Grey and hiking back to the campground. I actually had a walking stick and I probably looked completely ridiculous. One morning I managed to gain my footing outside of the tent only to be blown over by a gust of wind. Walking a few yards took about ten minutes and I was hobbling everywhere. It was pretty pathetic. 

But between cursing Patagonia one minute and loving it the next, we all managed to make it through the remainder of the week in one piece and ran into some interesting characters along the way. Over many an oatmeal breakfast, we'd chat with travelers from everywhere: people from the States, Thailand, France, South Africa and England, just to name a few. Some were retirees, some were students and others were just drifters traveling the whole of South America or even the entire world. Everyone had a good story to tell or a piece of advice to hand out. While there, we almost forgot we were in Chile.

And before we knew it we were back where we started and on the bus back to Puerto Natales. 

Lake Pehoe from the ferry

Bridge on the Torres trail

Vaqueros rounding up the horses

On our last trail out we saw llamas everywhere... with the beautiful Torres in the background

While we headed back toward civilization I realized that I had never before seen so many beautiful things before in my life. Glaciers, immense snow-capped mountains and untouched wilderness are all things we see in documentaries and textbooks, but viewing them in real life is an entirely different experience. All only a stone's throw away from the ultimate wilderness, Antarctica, no less. 

Being in the presence of these things, getting lost on (or not on...) the trail, and tossing in a rain soaked tent all night kind of puts you in your place as a human being and brings you back to life. Sometimes your socks are going to get wet and the tarp is going to blow off the tent and it's not always roses...but just look at the view! As I rested on the cushy bus seat  I found myself already missing the humbling yet invigorating adventure that is Patagonia. 

There's truly something about not being able to move your feet but carrying on anyway for no other reason than to see something breathtakingly beautiful. Even in a place as remote as Patagonia - where at any given time you could be miles away from the nearest person - what's a more human experience than that? 

ŀ.