Villa O'Higgins

As mentioned, we walked into Villa O’Higgins from the boat dock. It is a tiny town at the end of a long road- Ruta 7. Many people traveling what is known as the Carretera Austral bike route either begin or end their journey in Villa O’Higgins. It was the kind of town we needed to take a break in- removed from technology, walkable, and full of friendly people. We had also shipped a trunk there,to a friend of a friend (of course) named Marcela who we had been keeping in contact with since before the start of our journey.

A view from the porch where we stayed

We found a hostel/campground at the end of town and promptly showered and cooked up some dinner. The hostel owner, Fili, knew Marcela, and gave her a call. We were eating dinner when Marcela stopped by, her kindness was even more palpable in person and we talked for a bit and then agreed to stop by her house the next day.

Marcela paints in her shop

After a solid night's sleep and some more food, we walked the few blocks across town to Marcela’s house and found her working in her shop/studio. Talking with her, even though I couldn’t completely understand her words (because of the spanish), was a breath of fresh air to me. I couldn’t place why, but I felt at home in her presence. Marcela and her partner Rodrigo are two of the most genuine people I have met, having found their place in life while continuing to strive for what they believe in. Marcela’s a beautiful artist in her paintings, and she has a small studio/shop in Villa O'Higgins for tourists. Rodrigo’s art is in his music, which he also teaches. Hearing their stories about finding their passions refueled my creative side, and I look forward to working on some of my own art pieces when our season is over down here. I am forever grateful for their kindness and hospitality.

Time for Once's!

Over the next few days, we ate, slept, relaxed, and socialized. Villa O’Higgins became a home away from home as we rested and planned the next section of our trek. Everyone in town was connected, so all we had to do was ask Marcela or Fili where how to get something done, and they’d send us to the address with a name and objective. When one is on foot, small towns are the best.

Some evening music

The days passed quickly and before we knew it, we had been in Villa for nearly a week! As we prepared to leave, we stopped by Marcela and Rodrigo’s for one last goodbye….and ended up staying another day. It’s amazing how quickly certain people can finagle their way into your lives so deeply. We shared many a tea around their small table, and talked into the night with them and other new friends. 

Another meal, in the park this time

  A day later Marcela, Rodrigo, and their son joined us on our walk through town, and opened the gate for us to leave on the trail. We all hugged tightly before dispersing, Fidgit and I towards Cochrane, the other three returning to their house. Tears flowed freely down my cheeks, a deep feeling of loss creating a pit in my being. Villa O’Higgins and many of the people there have a stronghold on my heart, and I know I’ll return someday. For now, ever northward.

Between two Countries: Chaltèn to Villa O'Higgins

Fidgit in Chalten. Notice the other tourists

Chaltèn is a small, overrun-with-tourists town, though when you realize the town is nestled at the base of Cerro Torres, which is home to Mount Fitz Roy, it makes more sense why so many people visit. Fitz Roy is a world-famous climbing and mountaineering icon, with athletes and adventurers from across the globe visiting the area each year. I overheard one guy in town say, (with an American accent, mind you) “Chaltèn is the Chamonix of South America.” I’m not sure exactly what he meant, though it did make him sound like he’d been to at least two places other than his local crag. Maybe I’m wary of the tourism down here because I’ve seen what it does to areas of the U.S., maybe my dry sense of humor is coming out again, either way that is a direct quote.

Everyone was again very kind and helpful, but we were ready to move on quickly and didn’t waste any time in getting our town chores done, including getting cash(!) and stuffing our faces. There is a delicious gelato shop with a brewery across the street in Chaltèn, and I recommend everyone visit both, yum!

Fitz Roy spires in the morning

We spent one night tenting in the backyard of a friend of a friend, then walked up the street and back into Los Glaciares National Park the next afternoon- it is a very long national park, covering a large amount of the southern icefield in Argentina. Around Chaltèn, it is also a busy park, so we passed many day-hikers, then when they thinned there were tons of people with giant packs trudging along the trail. Seeing these large groups of people on trail, I was reminded of seeing freshman at my university, because they similarly wander around in a big clump looking lost. I was also distracted by more beautiful scenery as we got up close to the Fitz Roy spires and camped at the head of the cirque they’re along. With the sun setting behind the spires and a guitar being strummed across the campsite, I made some dinner then drifted off to sleep.

Love it! The turnstile in the middle of nowhere!

We woke up the next morning before most of the other hikers and proceeded, paralleling the mountain range all day. We were on-trail until the edge of the park, then back on a dusty road until we walked to the southern edge of Lago del Desierto. The road ended at the southern point of the lake and we hopped back on trail to continue towards our goal: the Argentine border station at the northern end of the lake. Most people who cross the Argentine/Chilean border here take the ferry across the lake, so it was interesting to see the Argentine border guards’ reactions when we told them we had walked. Though not completely uncommon, choosing to walk when you could get a ride is still unusual.

There is camping allowed right next to the guard station, which is awesome - we just set up our tent and made dinner with their horses wandering around us. Though we had only seen a few people walking that day, there were multiple other tents next to the guard station. Some had bikes next to them and others seemed to have been brought by those who came across on the ferry. We walked the next morning on a well-worn path to Chile and followed the road that began down to the Chilean border guard office next to Lago O’Higgins. The border guards on the Chilean side, from what I’ve noticed, are friendly but much more business oriented.

After stopping into their guard station, we wandered down to the small dock to wait for the 3 pm boat across the lake. We had looked into walking around the Lago O’Higgins, but if you Google it, you’ll get an idea of why we chose not to. It’s giant and has at least two glaciers flowing into it.

Crossing Lago O'Higgins

We hopped on the boat, paid the captain, and made it across in about three hours, passing time by watching the waves and talking to a couple other travelers - one Chilean, one Israeli, a couple German cyclists, and a couple wild land firemen from California. We had some good conversations, but were ready to disembark as the boat docked. There is a shuttle that takes people into Villa O’Higgins from the dock, though we (and a few others) decided to road walked the quick 8km into town. And what a town it was.

Life and Learning on a Life-a-versary

I have friends, and I have friends that I’ve been through tough shit with. My friend Elise is one of the latter, and I believe we’ve both grown tremendously from what we've endured in life together, as well as separately, though I wouldn’t wish her journey on anyone. She does and always will hold a special place in my soul.

I met Elise in 2011, shortly after I began working for a wilderness therapy program in southern Utah. We worked on the same shift, though didn’t often interact, so I only knew of her what others mentioned: she’s nice, a quick thinker, an overachiever, next in line for a promotion, etc. Everyone’s got an opinion, right?

In late 2011, I began working nearly every shift with Elise, and it became a time of painful personal growth for me. Elise is a type-A personality, and she had high standards that I constantly felt I was falling short of. I would take the feedback we routinely gave each other and be overwhelmed by the constructive, completely forgetting the positive. I began to feel inadequate and at times victimize myself to the extent of blaming others - dangerous territory for anyone. Interestingly enough, it became Elise who was always there supporting me and offering helpful tidbits of advice. She would (and still does) make a disconcerting amount of eye contact, I felt self-consciously that she was looking into the depths of my soul.

We slowly became friends, sharing in the joy and stress a wilderness therapy guide lifestyle can bring. After working 8-day stints over multiple months together, I learned Elise was also going through a transitional time, including big life decisions like buying a house, applying to be a field director at our company, etc.

Jump forward another month or so to April 2012. I was headed into the field with Elise and two other guides when our truck rolled, and Elise broke her C7 vertebrae. Read my recollection of that here.

Elise’s life was thrown into a tailspin, as she was no longer able to use her body the way she’d been using it her entire life - first as a dancer, then a yoga instructor, most recently as a wilderness therapy guide. Darkness crept in as she struggled not only with pain and decreased mobility, but less personal independence and direction. She was restricted on what she could lift even after her vertebrae healed, making a wilderness field guide position out of the question. I tried to support her as best I could, visiting and helping when I could and we became closer yet after I was laid off. Thankfully she was able to find meaning and healing as she soul-searched. She talks about her recovery and her experience rediscovering her abilities here.

Elise and I are quite different, though over the years I’ve recognized our friendship isn't built on our differences, it’s built on similarities and our ability to truly see each other as people. Not who we want the other to be, not what they want to us to be, but to really see and be seen. I believe when people stop seeing each other for the true beings they are, or start putting on masks because of their shame of who they aren’t, is where the troubling struggles exist. I have pondered on this often along our walk thus-far, and keep coming to that same conclusion ,which I do my best to carry over to my interactions. I try to see people as individuals, not treat them as objects, and cultivate deeper, meaningful relationships.

Looking back on human relationships in my life, I’m slowly realizing that it’s the people who push and encourage me to be my best that stick in my memory as well as stay in my life. I feel like Elise and my relationship is the epitome of that lesson, and for that I am grateful. Not just grateful for the teachings I’ve had from her or others in my life, but also grateful for the future teachings and getting to experience them.

Calafate to Lago Viedma

Calafate is another bustling tourist town, though I noticed fewer english speakers than Natales. We only spent a day and a half, though were able to accomplish all our town chores, including laundry. It had been a month since we last washed our clothes in a washing machine, and man did they need it! I also bought a new camera and we resupplied. We did run into a problem when the ATMs were not working for foreigners, so we had no way to get cash. We talked with some people in town about it, and they seemed nonplussed, saying it happens all the time. Argentina is an interesting place monetarily, with the U.S. not even recognizing their money as a currency because of its volatility. Thankfully we could still pay with our bank cards most places, and our hostel owner had paypal. While in town, we also went to the forest service and were told we couldn’t do our planned route. Thankfully, one of the rangers came in at the perfect time and said it was a possible route, thanks (the first time) Boris!

Fidget cleaning her pot after dinner on our road walk

Crossing another valley. Yes, that is an iceberg.

Sometimes the 'trail' was sketchy....

.....Sometimes the 'trail' was a beach

Leaving Calafate was hot and dusty, good thing we were walking right along a glacial lake, Lago Argentina, so water wasn’t an issue. More road walking to the end of the road and then up a two-track that turned into an old cow path. Then that cow path turned into many cow paths and we were on our own to find our way across the multiple steep valleys to a tourist estancia. It was an interesting couple of days, going up one valley and then over to the next and up that one, sometimes getting a bit too close to the lake and having to climb back up into another valley. Thank goodness for maps and GPS! We arrived, mostly unscathed, at Estancia Christina mid-morning and proceeded past it, excited to find the trail we had been told about.

After another couple hours’ walk up to the valley we thought the trail was up, we ran into a couple camping there. They informed us that, no, the trail we wanted was behind us, and the valley we thought we were supposed to go up was steep and nearly impassible. Thanking our lucky stars (as they say) we ate some lunch, asked more questions, and headed back towards their directions. 

Glacier in the rain

Cerro Norte y yo

Alas, we found trail! Well marked and easy to follow, we followed it up and up to a very treed valley then promptly lost the trail. But we were where we wanted to be, going north along cerro norte. all we had to do was follow that valley and we’d go up over a pass and practically be in Chaltèn! Wrong. Following the valley up to the pass was fine, albeit muddy, rainy, and cold. The glacier on cerro norte was awe-inspiring, as was thinking of how the valley was formed as we clambered around giant boulders heading up the pass. The valley after the pass however, was a cluster(expletive deleted) of dense trees, fallen trees, and calafate along with other pokey-stabby brush thrown in. We fought the rest of the afternoon and evening through it, only to find ourselves about 2km down the valley. If you’ve never been up to your armpits in calafate shrubs, I highly recommend avoiding it at all costs. Exhausted and soaked (everything was damp from the incessant rain that day), we dejectedly ate our dinner and went to bed. To add to the solemnity of the end of the day, the satellite tracker we had fell off Fidget’s pack somewhere in the cluster (expletive deleted).

From whence we came. On trail again!

I slept soundly that night, and in the morning we packed up and moved on. The brush thinned out for a bit, but every time we went into a drainage area, it worsened. At one point I was trying to go uphill but the calafate was so thick, I began sliding downhill. Finally, we made it near the edge of another lake, Lago Viedma, and found a mostly-cairned trail, right where the couple from a couple days before had told us it would be. Oh the celebrating! We then promptly nearly lost the cairned trail about 5 times before we were able to stay on it and follow it the rest of the day. We walked into the end of the road at Estancia Holsingfors early the next morning, and they were more than helpful. Their current guests were american, so we were again questioned about our trip.  There was also a ranger station across the way, and who else was there but the ranger who told us we’d be able to do the hike, Boris! He was (again) super helpful, and remembered us from town (he only goes in once a month to get more supplies) We were also nearly out of food at that point, so the treats they offered us were well-received. I don’t know what we would've done without such kind souls.

Looking across Lago Viedma from Estancia Holsingfors

I feel like many of the lessons we’ve slowly been learning on this trip were strongly reinforced on this particular stretch, and am grateful that they didn’t involve any death or dismemberment. They just involved putting two hard-headed ladies at the mercy of Patagonia. Some lessons learned: Mother nature always wins, thankfully she’s gracious. Pay attention to the subtlety in life, it may be the only hints you get. Always listen to the locals. It will likely take you longer than you planned. ALWAYS be flexible with plans.

Fidget, Boris, and I in front of the ranger station

Torres del Paine to Calafate

Leaving the W trek in Torres del Paine, we headed east along a dusty road, spotting the first guanacos we’d seen in awhile.  The road turned north and we walked up to Lago Azul at the edge of the park, a beautiful little lake that few people seem to realize is within the park limits. The park guard and the campground host, Victor, were friendly and helpful, you could tell they didn’t see nearly as many tourists. As we were making dinner and talking, Victor invited us to have dinner with a group of Americans and their guides who were also staying at the campground and were mountain biking through. One of the guides said, “It’s new year's eve, you should spend it with your people.”

We accepted their invitation and were able to meet an awesome group of friends, mostly from Tennessee, who were on a trip together - one of them even has a good friend from grad school who I know! It again became a small world as we discussed our trips and ate and celebrated. The guides were quite friendly as well as interested in our trip, so much so that Fidgit and I had to sneak off around 1 a.m. to get some sleep.

The next morning we headed off, after Victor made sure our bellies were full and we had made ourselves sandwiches for lunch. We walked and walked, following an older, unkempt road to rio Zamora which we had to cross. Fidgit found a decent place to cross, but it was still thigh-deep and strong. Thankfully, it was warm out. I decided to take my pants off to not get them wet and, stupidly, attempted to get the camera to Fidgit so she could get a photo in between giggles. I failed. We spent the next couple hours up to our crotches in fast moving fresh-glacial-melt water trying to find the camera to no avail. It has since been called ‘the unfortunate river crossing incident,’ and I’ve been working on not being stupid anymore.

What's out of the water is about  70 meters high

Perito Moreno in all its glory

We made our way into Argentina and were just in time to get out to Los Glacieres National Park and visit Perito Moreno glacier for the evening of my birthday. What a birthday it was! I’d never had a summer birthday before, so of course we decided to celebrate it by standing next to a giant hunk of ice and snow. It was amazing! Exhausted from the amount of road walking we did, we then made our way into Calafate to shower and sleep. The owner of the place we stayed was so kind, and when he heard it was my birthday he brought me a small dessert with a candle in it! I went to bed freshly showered and happy.

Happy birthday to me!

Puerto Natales through Torres del Paine

Road walking

We left Puerto Natales the day after Christmas, walking to Torres del Paine instead of joining the droves on the many buses that run daily from town. There was a nice bike path until we turned off the main road and onto a lesser-used side road. The first night, we camped in a field along the road; the second night, we had our first glimpse of the Sendero de Chile, a trail that allegedly exists down here. 

Almost there, and excited!

We followed the SdC for about 30 meters along the road before it turned into a muddy mess and we hopped back on the road and made ourselves a camp near the park entrance. Angelo, the guy we joined for Christmas, had dropped off our resupply at the park office, so we chatted with the park office girls while we repackaged our food bags before paying the entrance fee and walking into Torres Del Paine.  After watching the mountains grow  since Puerto Natales, I was excited to finally get to walk along them. The park was definitely overrun by tourists, with at least a third speaking English, or so it seemed.

Coming into the park along the Q route

We walked along the ‘tail’ of the Q route and then joined the masses hiking the W route along the base of the mountains. Despite the multitudes, I was able to avoid feeling overwhelmed by people and still enjoyed the beauty of the National Park I was in. 

Walking with new friends

Our first night in the park, we were approached by a couple, Rese and Jan, asking about our tent. They were trying to have lighter packs, and we talked about what kind of things they had done and offered them suggestions on what else they could do to lighten their loads. We then ran into them the next morning and proceeded to hike together the rest of the day, becoming fast friends as we swapped stories and thoughts. We parted ways in the evening with plans to meet the next morning at the base of THE torres, the spires of rock for which the park is known. At our campsite that night, everyone seemed amped up to see the torres for sunrise, though we were having none of that- get up ass-early? No thanks!

THE torres, in the morning

The next morning, Fidgit and I hiked up to the base of the torres, arriving mid-morning just in time for the clouds to part and clear for a spectacular view of the peaks. We were sitting there, admiring the view, when one of the sunrise cohorts from the night before popped up from behind a boulder, and after we called to him, he wandered over to join us. We asked how the sunrise was, “crap” was his response, which reaffirmed our choice to not get up. Soon after, Rese and Jan showed up, and we had ourselves a little new years day party on a boulder with some new friends. It’s always interesting to me how kindred souls find one another, even across the world.

New friends 'us-y', as Fidgit says. Laughter abounds

Puerto Natales, aka: Christmas

Christmas at Erratic Rock

As mentioned, Puerto Natales is very much a tourist town. We may have arrived differently than most tourists (past the town dump, which is becoming the norm), but we were still inundated with outdoor clothing stores and a plethora of languages being spoken. We found a gift shop-esque place with wifi and food, and proceeded to look for a place to stay. We were directed towards the Erratic Rock Hostel, owned by brothers from Oregon. We sauntered over (it was on the other side of town) and were greeted by getting the last two spots in this busy hostel, breakfast included!

People were coming and going at all day, talking about whether they had been to ‘the park,’ what route they were doing, what not to miss in ‘the park,’ and so on. I looked on with detached amusement and intrigue as other gringos talked amongst one another, as if they knew Chile like the back of their hand. Given, there is a free talk every day at 3 p.m., and the guys of Erratic Rock have set themselves up as a jump-off to Torres del Paine, renting gear and all around being awesome. It’s just a part of South America I hadn’t experienced yet, and was, in the end, glad to see others traveling. Also we had been, up to now, talking with locals who actually knew the area like the back of their weathered hands. It was interesting and at times overwhelming to understand everything everyone was saying. I no longer had the ‘no entiendo’ excuse, though I didn’t mind for the most part.

As we spent the next couple days preparing to again go north, everyone was more than helpful and intrigued to hear about our journey. On zero day three, however, Fidgit and I were itching to go. It was then that we received a last-minute invitation from a local guide, Angelo, to spend Christmas with him and some friends at a nearby estancia. Unable to turn down such an offer, we said farewell to the hostel and Angelo picked us up to stay at his place. We headed to the estancia the next morning, as Christmas barbecues are an all-day event. I was feeling a bit ill, but was able to push through and find enjoyment in watching Rodrigo grill while Vania made sure everyone was enjoying their time. Josè Miguel and Fidgit talked about horses while Angelo taught Daniella about kayaking. A massive dinner was served, the sun set, a fire was built, the pisco and the beer flowed, and I went to bed full and happy.