El Chaltèn

The road to El Chaltèn was a 12 hour stretch of ripio down Rt. 40, Argentina`s answer to the Carretera Austral, but in a little better shape. The lanscape was wide open and brambly. We stopped for a break at Bajo Caracoles a town with about 50 people located in the true middle of nowhere. There, I witnessed one of the most impressive sunsets of my life. The crimsons and peach and apricot spread like fire across the sky in deep brush strokes so magnificent it brought to mind the Sistine Chapel.

It was cold and the wind slapped hard against me as it swept across the wide open pampa. Inside the bus I found no relief. The air conditioning for some inexplicable reason was turned on full blast for the entire ride. I hadn`t been on a bus that cold since Colombia and had fallen out of the habit of bringing my sleeping bag on the bus, though I wished that I had. I sat freezing and trying to sleep through the cold on the bus without much success. At around 6:30am I arrived in El Chaltèn, a small tourist center located inside the perimeter of Parque Nacional Los Glaciares in the heart of Argentine Patagonia. Already chilled to the core from the bus ride I stepped into the night air which felt shockingly cold at 6.6C (42F). I realize that isn`t really cold but try telling that to my body which seemed to be in some sort of revolt. My nasal faucet was turned on full blast, my teeth were chattering wildly, and my whole body shook. I rumaged through my bag as soon as I could and threw on my other jacket and my wool gloves. Bare in mind that this is later summer/early fall in this part of the world. Walking to the hostel I sneezed about 10 or 12 times consecutively. It`s official, I thought. I am allergic to the cold.

After locating a hostel I dropped of my bags and began a hike up to Cerro Torre in the early morning light. Cerro Torre, which means Tower Hill, is huge. If they classify it as a hill I would love to know what they consider a mountain. The hike wasn`t too challenging, about 8 hours roundtrip, but it was a really peaceful and pretty path. I saw some wild hare and my first condor flying overhead. Cerro Torre itself was outstanding, steep, sharp spires of rock jutting out of a glacier which led into a murky green grey laguna which contained three little iceburgs. They were tiny little guys but my first iceburg nonetheless and I was pretty excited. My nose didn`t stop running the entire time and I began to wonder if in addition to this new allergy I discovered, I might also be getting sick.

I poked around the markets and shops in town, many of which were closed on Sunday, before heading back to the hostel where I made lunch, a hot cup of tea, and treated myself to a little recuperating nap.

After a good healthy nights sleep I woke up feeling a little bit less snuffy in the morning, though my nose was already beginning to get raw for the endless rubbing with my hankercheif. I went to a little market down the street and got some eggs and to the panaderia for a little bread for sandwiches and a medialuna, a sweet glazed delicious croissant, and my new favorite guilty pleasure. I took my time making breakfast and began my trek up to Cerro Fitz Roy around 11am. The trek from town and back was about 12.5km, began with a little upward battle and a muddy mid-section but was mostly at a nice comfortable pace. The last hour or so of the hike up to the Fitz Roy was a steep climb up a rocky path. The views from the top were well worth the challenge. The Fitz Roy massif is said to be so steep that snow won`t stick to the sides of it. It was very impressive and has to emerald green lagunas at its feet. I saw a mini-avalanche and sat in awe of such natural wonders while enjoying my lunch.

That night after returning to town I calculated that I had hiked around 47km over the past two days. No wonder I was tired. I am constantly amazed by how open and wild Patagonia is. Wind swept valleys with trees that are blown practically sideways and then all of a sudden these mountains rise up out of no where. And the colors! They are out of this world. I cannot begin to describe the way the landscape transforms itself at sunrise and sunset. This unbelievable mixture of violet, indigo, greens, mustards. Sometimes it breaks my heart to pass by these sights from the window of a bus without the opportunity to stop and get out of the car and admire.