Patagonia Pt. 1

After utterly exhausting ourselves in Buenos Aires it was time to head down into the wilderness of Patagonia. I can't tell you how excited I was to get down here. This area stood out to me due to its vast plains, its sheer spires of rock, and its glaciers that look so blue that they seem to glow. I had heard so much about the beauty and rawness of this place that I had to see it for myself. 

We had initially planned on doing the W trek around Torres Del Paine National Park but realized about two months ago that everything even close to camping was completely booked up. Our only option was to rent rooms at Refugios along the way that provided hot showers, meals, and as much wine as you could afford, a comfortable experience to be sure but not exactly the one we were looking for. We decided instead to rent a car, see the highlights of this region and then move on to El Chaltén where we had heard the environment was a little friendlier to roughing it.

Perito Moreno Glacier

Our first stop after picking up the car was Perito Moreno Glacier, a massive piece of the Southern Patagonian Icefield that nestles right up to the waters of Argentino Lake. The size of this glacier is breath-taking; it stretches off far into the mountains until it and the sky blend together in a sort of white-gray slush. We were also presented with the unexpected treat of changing fall colors, scarlets and merigolds that stood out distinctly against the deep blue of the glacier.

After quickly stretching our legs we hopped back into the car and headed back to El Calafate to stock up on supplies for the journey ahead. Our planned diet consisted mostly of salami, bread, and "suave" sauce, which is mayo with lemon juice in it. If you haven't tried it yet treat yourself and come down to Patagonia for a bag (mayo comes in bags here, not jars). After stocking up on nutritious sustinence we finally drove down to Chile, passing maybe ten cars over a six-hour stretch. We camped on a patch of field 5 minutes away from the border crossing and got our first taste of Patagonian winds. I had forgotten to pack the stakes so Pat and I spent the night being smothered by a tent that was nearly horizontal at some points. At around 3:30 in the morning Rigo, Pat, and I awoke to check out the stars and they did not disappoint.

I have honestly never seen stars like this; we could see entire clouds of stars that would give more and more detail the longer you looked at them and whole constellations that I never knew existed. Apparently there are some even clearer regions, particularly the Atacama Desert to the north, so the best is yet to come.

Torres Del Paine

We woke up to an absolutely killer day with not a single cloud in the sky and we intended to make the most of it. We made it through the border nearly unscathed (they took our eggs) and had a beautiful drive ahead of us filled with sweeping views, lakes, and lots of guanacos.

After making approximately 30 stops to take the same picture we finally made it to the beginning of the hike. The trek took us over hills, through canyons, and past refugios that we had no money for, always surrounded by fall colors.

On our way up we saw a sign that said that the last stretch of the hike was closed for the day but we couldn't let that stop us from seeing the towers, accepting any consequences that might come of it. On the hike up we accidentally took a wrong turn that ended up being the luckiest wrong turn ever, since as soon we realized that we were off the trail we saw the final park workers descending from the top. We hid out until they passed and then resumed our hike up where we were treated to a sunset view of the Torres.

After walking down in the darkness and setting up camp I felt the need to capture one last memory of this inspiring place:

Onwards to El Chaltén

Unfortunately the weather in Patagonia is notoriously fickle and the next day brought with it rain driven sideways by the wind. With this we decided to push up to El Chaltén, first making a trip down to Puerto Natales, the southernmost point I have ever reached.

Our drive to El Chaltén was without incident, save the fact that Pat accidentally threw away the car keys and we spent 20 minutes ripping the car apart before we finally found them at the bottom of a trashcan. With that problem solved we continued on, reaching the hostel early enough to have a shot at a hike on the next day.

Laguna Torres

I can't talk enough about the colors down here. On this hike we traveled through valleys of gnarled trees, twisted by relentless wind, and what struck us over and over was the vibrancy of these fall colors. On a couple of high points we could peer out over the entire valley and see every red, orange, yellow, and green imaginable, backdropped by sheer peaks covered in white snow.

We expected a sparkling blue lake at the end but all we got was a puddle of murky runoff and gusts of wind that nearly knocked us on our asses. We finally found a small rocky redoubt and after fortifying it for a bit we settled in for yet another meal of bread, salami, and of course suave sauce. After finishing our feast we returned back through the more peaceful sections of the valley, stopping for a bit of sun on a rock that sat in the middle of the river where Pat entered into a deep meditative state.

Upon our return we felt ready for something a little more involved and set out to make preparations for a short backpacking trip that would lead us to some more of the region's lakes.

The Spiritual Journey

The next morning we shouldered up our gear, some more salami, and a few liters of boxed wine and set off down the trail towards the center of the park where a couple of potential campsites awaited us. The approach in was uneventful and wet but once we had finally reached our campsite the skies had started to clear up and we wanted to get out there and explore. We set out looking for the trail to Laguna de los Tres armed with only our cameras. The route was a little unclear but eventually we picked up a path and off we went. We wound through a field of rocks parallel to a small river until we came to a small ravine that would not let us pass on either side, forcing us to cross the river once and then yet again to bypass this section.

The second crossing was especially sketchy and we decided that we would figure out our return path "later." The rest of the trip to the lake went relatively smoothly, crossing over piles of boulders and a stream that descended from above the valley. Once we got to the lake and drank from the glacial waters we looked at a map and realized that we were not where we thought we were. The trail that we had wandered down was not a trail at all and we had ended up at Laguna Sucia rather than Laguna de los Tres, a lake about 1000 lower than our intended destination.

As we started back towards our camp, Rigo noticed the river coming from above and postulated that its source was the lake that we were initially looking for. At this we decided to extend our adventure in order to reach this lake, ascending a massive field of boulders before we realized that the source came down off of a cliff far above us. Dejected, we decided to traverse across the side of the valley to see if we could find an opening that we could use to access the lake. We knew it was up there from our maps but all of the routes we saw were too exposed and with the wind starting to pick up we decided to look for safer routes. After traversing through thickets that clung onto the side of the hill and drinking from trickles of water that crawled down the faces of rocks we spotted an opening that looked safe, in relative terms, to attempt.

Our path up followed the base of the rock face that you can see on the left

Pat led the team up and I took up the rear, a spot that I was not exactly stoked for since the rock was loose and I didn't want to go out with a boulder to the face. As we got higher the snow got thicker and helped solidify the hillside, providing solid footholds for us on the way up. All of this would have made for a sketchy descent, however, and as we got higher and higher I could feel our contingency plan of returning this same way getting looser and looser. We knew that there was a trail that led to Laguna de los Tres so if we could reach the lake we would be fine but alternatives were starting to look a little dim. I looked up and saw Pat disappear over the crest of the hill. We all waited in suspense, praying that Pat would return with good news. After what felt like forever Pat reappeared at the top of the hill with arms upraised. We had made it to the lake.

The route up

At the top our celebration was cut short by the wind which was gusting at speeds of up to 80 mph, making it literally impossible to move forward. All we could do is hunker down and wait for breaks in the wind, finally making it to a large rock which we were able to take some level of shelter behind.

At this point we were all exhausted and ready to get back down but one challenge was still before us: finding the trail down. It's getting pretty late in the season down here and the snows have really started to set in. This made finding the trail particularly difficult as the only features in this landscape were the lake and a sea of undistinguishable rocks and snow.

We knew the face that the trail had to descend but finding the entrance point was proving difficult. Plus the wind was making everything hell. At one point we had come to a dead end and I was yelling out directions to the next place I thought we should check and felt like I was storming the beaches of Normandy in Saving Private Ryan. We came around a hill and saw a solitary figure trekking towards the lake and knew at last that we would be alright. We directed him towards the lake and he directed us towards the trail and we finally started our way down, completing the loop that had felt predestined since we first leapt over those rocks during our river crossing. 

Now that I'm safe from that adventure all I want to do is go out and have another. I'm lucky to be on this trip with a partner who is down for the same. Along this hike we joked about it being a spiritual journey but in a lot of ways it did feel like that. Pushing for self-defined adventures can be a little dicey but those moments of uncertainty are really what make them memorable. Ultimately its you that got yourself in that sort of situation and it is up to you to figure out the best way to get out. I have a feeling that this excursion will make it onto the highlight reel of this trip.

Down to Two

After we got back into town we had one last night with Rigo and Ricardo before they had to return home. Spending the first two weeks in South America with them was a fantastic experience, not just for their Spanish but for the company they provided. Rigo helped me out with my photography a ton and gave me invaluable pointers on how to take the night shots that are pictured above. You two are already missed and I can't wait to meet up with you guys after we get back to recount the rest of our trip. Now its time for Pat and I to set set off on our own. Fingers crossed that we don't lose any limbs getting into spicy situations. This part of the trip will definitely have a different dynamic but I am excited to explore it and see what kinds of situations we get into. The wifi down here in Patagonia is a little choppy so it may be a while until my next post but when it does come I will have plenty to share.

-Joseph

Art

Stop reading this post and go buy a ticket to Buenos Aires. Right now. This city is absolutely incredible and has everything you could ask for: history, art, culture, nightlife, scenery, tango, parks, dirt-cheap street food, and more reggaeton than you will ever want to listen to again. 

The first thing that struck me about BA is that there is art literally everywhere. We expected it in La Boca, a region of the city known for its brightly colored streets filled with murals and sculptures:

but we didn't expect to find a series of murals under a freeway overpass in an old industrial section of town:

Something something smoking kills

Art doesn't just exist on the streets, however. BA houses several world class museums ranging from postmodern interactive art in the Kirchner Cultural Centre:

My personal favorite. This scene was accompanied by ritual chanting and doorways that looked like exits but actually just opened up into hallways that led you right back into the exhibition. Very creepy indeed.

to more traditional Latin American pieces at the Museo Nacional de Bellas Artes and the MALBA:

Argentina has quite a rich history, filled with political turmoil and strife of the working class. I saw this reflected heavily in their art in scenes that depict common folk wanting to be free of the influence of wealthy, land-owning elites and politicians obsessed with quieting opposing voices. While I was in Buenos Aires I witnessed massive parades celebrating Día de la Memoria por la Verdad y la Justicia, a holiday that commemorates the victims of state terrorism that occurred under the military junta from 1976 to 1983. This parade stretched from morning until after nightfall and was filled with Argentines proudly voicing their opinions, opinions that would have been silenced just 40 years ago.

One of my largest goals for this trip is to run more. I've never been a good or even decent runner, it's just never felt natural to me. I've talked about this subject with my brother, Peter, who is by all accounts a phenomenal runner, and his take on the sport really stuck with me. He sees it as an opportunity to really connect with his body, to test how this repetitive motion can be mastered and improved upon little by little, exploring weaknesses and using strengths to compensate for them. The way he describes it feels like a science, a study of kinetic connection. It is this view that has really helped me break through some of the barriers I have placed in front of my running game. By focusing on how my body is feeling rather than fruitlessly trying to block out the pain that running brings I have actually begun to enjoy the process. 

Another major thing that has helped me appreciate running is the fact that it is probably the best way to explore a city. Especially in the early morning, when the city is just starting to wake up and you get to see its freshest side:

The one thing that held me back from running more was the absurd schedule that Buenos Aires keeps. It is pretty standard to get dinner at 10, have drinks at 12, head to a club at 2, and stumble back into your bed at 7. Maybe not the healthiest of lifestyles but when in Rome...

It might be time to venture into Patagonia for a break from all this city living. 

- Joseph

Friends

Our time in London flew by. Whether it was due to having a great group to hang out with or the fact that we spent a good amount of our time recuperating its safe to say that we had a fantastic time exploring the city and its bars.

I suppose I should answer the question of "Why the hell would you go to London before traveling around South America?" I wish I could say that it was about enjoying the scenic route (Quite scenic, a 4781 mile trip that only got us 3 miles closer to our final destination) but it was actually entirely motivated by cash. Little known fact: you can get a direct flight from Seattle to London for $200 but be warned, they won't give you so much as a peanut on the entire plane ride.

We originally planned to only stay in London for a couple of hours but after one of our flights got shifted we decided to spend 4 days exploring the city and meeting up with some of Pat's friends from his days of studying abroad in England. We were graciously hosted by his mate Conrad in his spectacular home, which, let me tell you, was one of the most beautiful places I have ever stayed in. Built in the 1790's in the Georgian style, this place felt like a museum of art and British imperialism. Countless pieces of artwork were scattered about the house, the highlight of which being two six-foot tall mounted elephant tusks in the living room. Quite an imposing sight to say the least. We did eventually settle in and by the end of our stay we felt quite at home in the menagerie. 

On Friday we were treated to some rare London sun and spent the day touring the museum scene, finding out that Chihuly is also appreciated on this side of the Atlantic.

Saturday took away the sunshine and replaced it with cold and snow. 

Luckily it was St. Patty's day so we had nothing on the agenda except for drinking. After downing a healthy number of pints and learning and subsequently forgetting the rules of Rugby, Pat and I were educated on Ireland's most famous pintman. Paddy Losty, a man known to down 30 plus pints in a single day, has become a sort of mascot for this whole spiritual adventure.

“...pintmen exude a sort of spiritual aura when in union with their pint. An ethereal look can be seen in their eyes as they are transported beyond spatial and temporal bounds.”

— Kevin C. Kearns, Dublin Pub Life and Lore

Chronic alcoholism aside, if you are going to do something you best to do it well. There is a notion of Quality in this man which Pat and I hope to emulate on this journey.

St. Patty's day was capped off by a night at Fabric which really is a legendary London club. Or maybe it just stood out due the fact that one member of our party spent over £200 on tequila. Regardless if you are ever in London and are looking for a spot to hang out until 6 AM it is absolutely worth the wait.

After nights like that you don't tend to have particularly interesting next days. We spent most of it on the couch recovering, reminiscing, and preparing for the next leg of our trip, Buenos Aires. I would be remiss if I didn't give a huge shoutout to Conrad for being such a gracious host. I can't think of a better way to start of the trip than hanging out with you and the rest of your crew; hope we can catch you on the way back!

Look out for the next post from Buenos Aires!

-Joseph