SustainablEthos

Before I begin I would like to thank my friends Joe & Hisako as well as Dan & Jenny for the wealth of head’s up information they each spent a night with me over wine and such to lay out. I would further like to thank Mike, Mac, Nikki, Stacey, Tamsen, Graham, & Hostel Natales ($20 pppn, well worth it for the hotel-like beds) for the help, laughs, companionship, and lifelong memories. In my 27 young years, this trek will easily go down as the hardest, most beautiful, and most enjoyable to date.

For anyone who would like do plan to do it, you should estimate 4nights/5days for the popular W circuit and $150 per person for entrance, round trip bus from Natales, boat ride to Pudeto, food, and all rented equipment (if you didn’t bring your own). For the full circuit plan 7-10 days and you can do some quick math to extrapolate the money. The equipment includes (I recommend Cecilia co.) a tent, sleeping bag, cooking equipment (skip plates), and sleeping mat ($10 pppn). Buses are aplenty and run once per day (to and from, twice during high season). Also, note that if you arrive from Argentina, the Chilean border entry is tedious and strict about no fruits, veggies, dairy, and meats. So eat it all before you get there.

Mike, Mac, and I arrived at about noon the day before heading into the park with a list of tasks: rent equipment, book buses, learn the map, buy food, pack, and eat! For food we got soups, delicious 5min rice, costa coco cookies, bread rolls, Dulce de leche, apples, soy carne filler to add to soup and rice for carbs and protein, dry milk, tea, 2 big chocolate bars, cereal bars, and a bottle of Chilean Pisco (nasty by itself, but delicious made into the popular pisco sour).

Then, once everything else was complete, we chose a spot to get one last grub on. The choice: Mesite Grande. This spot quickly became a source of the best pizza and warmth that we would talk about returning to the minute we came back from our adventure.

The next morning we stuffed ourselves with the typical jam, bread, ham & cheese, coffee, yogurt, and, as a bonus, coco pebbles-like cereal before jumping on JBA Transportes into the park.

Upon arrival, you get the decision to start the W from Glacier Grey (take a boat from the second bus stop, Pudeto) or you can unload immediately at Laguna Amarga and travel the W backwards (this is actually the best way if your weather is nice so you can have a chance to see the torres in full view). The weather was perfectly cool and sunny so we opted for the latter route.

As various bus companies arrived we noticed a god chunk of people get off at this first stop that were also on our bus into Natales from Calafate. By the last day of our hike we would begin to expect encounters with those I named at the beginning of this post – whether it was while setting up camp or stopping to heat up a lunch or passing on a day hike.

Mac (who would only be accompanying us for the first day and night up to the torres), Mike, and I decided to stop in at Refugio Torres to get one last properly cooked meal (as we were already hungry) before setting out on the trail. Boy was this a good idea. For $5,000cp ($10) total, we got a heaping plate of hard-boiled eggs, chicken, beef, and some potatoes. It was more than heaping. It was a 6in high, 8in deep, and 12in wide. Needless to say, we weren’t hungry until our hike ended at dinner time.

Once we were pleasantly plumped, we set out, behind Nicki and Andrea, on what would be the hardest climb of the entire trek. With an extra 40lbs on your back it was no joke. The cool breeze couldn’t stop the sweat from POURING, sunglasses from fogging, conversation from ceasing to conserve energy, and clothes from rapidly being shed. We would stop only 3 times to rest and regroup. You learn quickly the difference in each person’s pace. When doing an uphill climb I tend to move quicker than most, taking bigger steps (thanks dad for the strong legs) and breaths, so I was let to lead. Once we peaked and the declines began, we reversed order to slow my big legs down (helping to also protect me from loose gravel sliding). I recommend hiking poles (which we neglected to remember to rent) for the simple reason that downhill, with added weight, can really throw off your balance at times (and throw in the occassional gust of wind) and create some dangerous cliffside scenarios.

As we progressed past Campamento Chileno and the loquacious atmosphere subsided again to the sound of a river now far below us, my iPod was started and Tool (shoutout Christine) or the surprisingly accurate Genius playlist feature became my music of choice.

We continued along Valle Ascensio (properly named) passing landslides, crossing bridges, and evading horse and puma POO until finally arriving at Campamento Torres, some 400m below the mirador goal for the Torres themselves. After setting up our first camp and munching on some mani, we grabbed our cameras and thankfully left our bags before ascending the 400m (1,200ft) in less than a km in total length (to give an idea of the steepness. It may not sound like alot but it was no joke, and actually quite scary at times. I couldn’t imagine doing it with gear (some people would try to camp up there for the sunrise in the morning). One man we passed on the way up randomly stepped the wrong way on some loose gravel and nearly had a bad story to tell if he would have lived to tell it!

As we neared the end, the orange markers seemed to disappear around the final peak. This section was an uphill boulder climb that required some risk-taking to find the correct route to the final marker. Once there, as you may have predicted, it was totally worth it. We remained here, amongst a few others while the sun set, in awe for a good half an hour. I will let the pictures attempt to portray what we saw throughout this mirador journey:

Like every other descent so far, the danger of sliding, falling, or worse was greater than the ascent. So you don’t attempt to do it any quicker. On the way we laughed about the sleeping situation that would take place that night while admiring the varied color schemes the sun now created as it cascaded light from the top of the valley to the bottom.

That night, after cooking a quick dinner of soup, rice, and crackers, the three of us clammered into our “3+” person (I say toddler) tent for a sardine-like sleep at no later than 7:30pm. For an hour or so we played the word game whereby once a named word was spoken, by accident or otherwise, the guilty party was to take a shot of the Pisco. We all slowly dozed off into the long, cold night. I will admit that it ended up being a rotating spoon fest (in our own sleeping bags of course) to conserve body heat and attempt to find a position of relative comfort.

That morning when we woke we were all nursing our sore hips from attempts to sleep on one’s side. Breakfast consisted of pan, dulche de leche, apples, cookies, and green tea. Then began the mad dash to gather everyhing in the chilly morning air and start the longest hike of our voyage (18km).

Heading out, our plan was to retrace the first leg of the W (about 7km) before splitting with Mac and then heading along Lago Nordenskjold to Campamento y Refugio Cuernos – near the base of the French Valley. The weather provided an overcast day and an unwelcoming dark blue lake as a distance landmark companion. These 18km really tested our endurance. We couldn’t eat food fast enough to make a solid impact on it’s imposing presence. Nonetheless, hiking to “leave no trace” and witness nature’s finest beauty requires such endurance, and endure we did. We stumbled the last 2km into Cuernos with dreams about what the Refugio would have to offer.

Being that it was off season, we were treated to free coffee, free showers (normally $6) and free camping ($10). With al this generosity we felt obligated to purchase an “expensive” ($20), three course dinner and some wine. After the dirtiest, yet best feeling, hot shower in all of Patagonia, we set up camp and corralled with other travelers (notably Nicki and Andrea) around a wood burning stove to speculate on mice rumors and share life philosophies.

It was all too ironic (or humorous or frustrating) that a couple came in to advise on the presence of mice scrounging through our bags and food while we talked about our plans to attempt to fight the bastards the next night at the notoriously infested Campo Italiano. Everyone quickly scattered to protect their rations. This included bags locked inside tents, food bags hung separately by wire, et al. We put ours in our tent and brought the chocolate indoors with us to eat after dinner. All the hanging bags were attacked as these cheeky devils can climb in any direction on ANYTHING – including string-thin wire. The girls’ M&Ms – gone. Another couples’ power bars – no mas. For some reason our dry rice and bread wasn’t appealing enough to them and our stuff was left alone. But this would prove to be a valuable experience for the battle at Italiano the next night.

After dinner, I made a good move to get rid of the Pisco weight and had our hosts improvise a round of pisco sours for everyone in the refugio. They certainly didn’t taste too good since most of the proper ingredients were lacking, but the clinking toast and wishes of safe travels amongst people from all around the world in this tiny, antiquated room resonated a warm and appreciative sentiment. Soon after, we all slowly dispersed (way past our bed time, around 10pm) to our tents and slept below a quiescent, starlit night.

At daybreak we were graced with a sunrise splashing sunlight across the towers, lakes, and mountains:

Today’s journey would be equally long but we would traverse only 5.5km with our bags before setting up camp at Italiano, plotting our schemeto defend against the rodents, and continue on the roundtrip hike of the French Valley. From the get go the scenery was diverse and stunning. Leaving Cuernos, the first part of our “bagged” journey descended to meet the lake which was so still that the reflecting sun created a mirror-like impression. Then the climb we had heard about began. A steep 250m ascent with the skinniest of passages:

When we arrived at Italiano, we saw firsthand how serious people were taking the mice problem. We were able to deduce that height, not complexity of hanging mechanism, to raise the smell out of their range. The most extreme configuration we witnessed was two bags hanging 20ft up above a massive rushing river nearby. So we setup camp. Mike became a monkey and hung our bags as high as possible while I packed a day bag. Then we were off with Nicki and Andrea with the sound of occassional avalanches resonating in the distance.

This mixed compilation of mountain glaciers, avalanches, rushing rivers, torres, many many torres, colorful autumn forests, one dead forest, and a mirador poking it’s head above the tree line offering a 360 degree view of it all made the French Valley my favorite hike during this voyage. Someday you should do everything in your power to see it for yourself, but until then let these attempt to suffice:

Upon our return to camp we felt the coldest night thus far setting in. It was 6:30pm. I looked at Mike and, without hesitation, we agreed to cook our dinner of rice and crackers and offer what we weren’t going to end up using to the girls to sift through. I looked at him once again, this time at 7:15pm, and we agreed to escape to our fortress and hope we did enough to protect against our curry rodent neighbors. The girls stayed up a bit later drinking wine and laughing at their attempts to hoist their food bag up onto a branch in the dark.

Mike and I attempted to stay up (in the warmth of our sleeping bags) and talk some time away. After what seemed like two hours, I checked my watch to be disappointed by a showing of 7:45. We continually went silent at every sound that had the potential to be a scurry close to our tent. We would each wake up a few times throughout the night and simply listen in silence. After hearing a story about an Indian man waking up with a mouse on his forehead, our jumpiness should be understandable. Once Mike even had to get up to empty his bladder. I told him to hold it but 5hrs of sleep only brought us to 1am.

Considering all this, I naturally slept quite well – like a baby, some would say, but in form not the level of perfect unconsciousness. Similar to the curled up position in a mother’s womb, I lay entirely inside the sleeping bag with my clothes at the bottom (to keep warm for the next day) and the top flap pulled over my head with a sweatshirt for a pillow. Surprisingly, it all worked – the sleep, food protection scheme, et al. We survived all three nights in one piece, without incident, and in full health. The alarm went off at 7am (when it’s that cold and you expend that much energy you have no problem staying in your sleeping bag until it’s absolutely necessary to leave), we ate a few cookies and our apples, and were off on our final leg. All that remained were three hours left of hiking to arrive at Refugio Paine Grande where we would catch a boat ($22) across Lago Pehoé to Pudeto to hop on our return trip back to Natales.

That night I bought some Alpaca gloves and a hat (to replace the one I lost on the trail and we made our way, deservedly, back to Mesita Grande to eat the most delicious pizza and dessert in the history of food. Back at the hostel we drank a bottle of wine that Mac had graciously left with the receptionist for us as a reward. I gave my parents a ring to let them know I was still alive and we finally proceeded to sleep like babies in all possible ways – I think I even woke up once with a thumb to my mouth.

My last day spent in Patagonia was all relaxation. Cafes, chocolaterías, and taking photos with Mike around the beautiful port area:

Nicki, Andrea, Tamsen, and Graham were all due to arrive from their journey that day (they stayed to see Glacier Grey for one more night) and would certainly be expecting a night similar to ours the night before. I think you can guess where we went and what we ate. We ordered 6 pizzas, 6 desserts, and a bunch of wine and pisco sours and shared it all along with memories of an amazing journey now behind us…

REMEMBER: There are much more pictures to search through and view in full size on the photo page of this sight. They are now in chronological order so you can find the most recently uploaded ones first!

Tags: camping, chile, Jesse Bania, mesita grande, mike stempfel, patagonia, puerto natales, the W, torres del paine, trekking
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