The Last Hike in Patagonia

We woke up in our dorm room raring to finish the last part of our four-day hike in Patagonia.  The day’s hike was another short five-hour hike that would take us to Gray’s Glacier and back to our home base.  The rain was coming down hard so we decided to give it an hour to see if the weather would change.

We made ourselves cheese sandwiches for breakfast and went to the common room at the refugio.  It was overrun with campers who were trying to warm up and get dry.   One woman was shaking uncontrollably.  She was soaking wet.  I went to my room and retrieved my sleeping bag and gave it to her.  It was a simple gesture but to her and friends it was heroic deed.  I don’t understand why somebody hadn’t done the same thing earlier.  Sometimes when people travel they get focused on themselves and don’t think of others until they are specifically asked for something.

At 10 am, we made the executive decision that we would start the hike regardless of the rain.  Most people at the refugio decided to skip the day’s hike because of the weather.  They had the luxury of time, which we didn’t because we needed to get back to Puerto Natles the next day to meet up with our friends, Nichola and Nicole for dinner.

A little after 10:30 am, we started the hike and the rain didn’t stop  until the last hour of our five hour journey.  The hike would have been scenic and enjoyable but the rain made it miserable.  I don’t think Patrick or I exchanged more than a handful of sentences during the first 2 ½ hours of the hike.  We made it to Gray’s Glacier and ate another cheese sandwich.  We had reached our goal for the day.  Unlike other days, we didn’t spend much time appreciating our destination because of the weather.  We took a handful of pictures and we were back on the trail. 

Gray’s Glacier is one of the highlights of the famed “W’ Hike in Torres del Paine.  For us reaching Gray’s Glacier was anticlimactic.  We had just returned from Antarctica where glaciers were abundant and awe-inspiring.  I imagined the rain also dampened our appreciation as well.  Ahhh.  Dampened-rain-the pun master strikes again!

As I look back at the pictures and reflect on this post,  I am glad that we made the journey to Gray’s Glacier.  Though not much will compete with the beauty of Antarctica, Gray’s Glacier is still a natural beauty that needs to be experienced.

   

Patagonia-March 17-or How I Saved Patrick’s Life!

We woke up on the morning of March 17, a little bit sore from our 12-hour march from the day before.  We organized our packs and looked over the maps of where we needed to hike for the next day.  We had heard the second point of the “W” hike had been difficult to see because of the weather.  They call the hike the “W” because the three main points that one hikes to are the tops of “W” and the rest of the hiking route fills out the rest of the “W.”

The fog had rolled in and it was beginning to rain.  Patrick made the executive decision to skip the second point because why should we hike an additional four hours to the area and not be able to see anything.  I wasn’t complaining because the day before was a tough day for me.  Patrick actually said hiking those 26 kilometers was more difficult for him than running the marathon (42 km) in Antarctica. It made sense not to go to the top and see the second point but now were weren’t going to be doing the “W” hike- we actually were doing the “Big U.” 

The hike we planned for ourselves was a very simple one that would take us about four and ½ hours.  As we went through the day, we found the terrain to be much easier than the day before.  No wonder those women were able to hike 28 kilometers yesterday.  As I mentioned in the earlier Patagonia post, Patrick is a faster hiker than I am.  He would often be anywhere up to ten minutes ahead of me on the trail.  He would then stop and wait for me at certain points to catch up.  The rule was you never leave your hiking partner behind.

As we got to the halfway point, Patrick was ahead of me and the drizzling rain began to get worse.  I began to pick up my pace because there is no better motivation to reaching your destination than to get out of the freezing cold rain.  As I kept walking, I didn’t see Patrick.  He had never gone ahead of me too far in the past but anytime I would get to the top of the hill there was no sight of him. 

The rain now started to hit us sideways and I was beginning to feel miserable.  My motivation to hit our final destination was not the feats of endurance of others that I used the day before but rather that of whiskey-sweet-whiskey.  Technically, it was scotch whiskey and I had been hiking with it in my pack for the past two days. Why wouldn’t I have a fifth of scotch in my hiking pack?  I am quite sure that it is standard issue for all hikers.

Gentle Reader-I need to explain why we had scotch whiskey with us so let me digress for a few sentences.  Two days earlier as we were about to get on the bus to come to the national park, we realized that we were going to be hiking on St. Patrick’s Day.  Obviously, Patrick is Irish and we needed to celebrate.  We made a mad dash into town. We needed to be appropriately supplied for the big holiday. Puerto Natales is a small town and there were only two stores that sold alcohol.  Unfortunately, neither store had any Irish whiskey.  There was no way we could carry beer with us because it would be shaken up too much through the hike.  We didn’t have any other choice but to pick up the scotch.  I am quite sure that this was sacrilegious in some way.  But I mean it wasn’t like we were drinking English whiskey.

I kept slogging through the hike.  The rain was cold and coming down harder.  I still hadn’t caught up to Patrick.  I assumed Patrick had gone ahead to the refugio-it was too cold and wet to be waiting on the trail for me.  I eventually made it to the refugio and went to the reception.  I asked the woman if an American had checked in recently and she said yes but didn’t know what room he was in.  She gave me a key to a room and since they were dorms, I figured I would walk around and find Patrick’s room after I took a shower. 

After a shower, I walked around and looked in all the dorm rooms and didn’t see Patrick.  I went to the common areas and still no Patrick.  I went back to the reception and asked again if they had seen Patrick and they mentioned that an American had checked in.  I asked if he was tall with a shaved head and pretty good-looking.  The woman at reception, now armed with the description, immediately said the American who checked in did not match the description.  Patrick was officially missing.  He was not at the site and it had been over an hour and he was well ahead of me on the trail.

I quickly put my gear back on and headed out to the trail. The rule was you never leave your hiking partner behind.  I informed the reception that I was heading out to find my friend.  I needed to save Patrick.  Perhaps he had sprained his ankle; perhaps he fell into a crevice.  I wasn’t out there for more than three minutes before I had found Patrick. He was fine.  My rescue attempt was successful.  I had saved Patrick’s life.

Patrick had actually been out on the trail waiting for me in the rain for the past hour.  He eventually got tired of waiting and was heading back when we bumped into each other.  We figured out that I must have passed him when he left the trail for a quick minute to relieve himself when nature called.

He doesn’t like it when I tell people that I saved him while he was lost on the trail.  But that won’t stop me.  He, who blogs about it first, gets to tell the story their way. 

Postscript-we enjoyed laughing about the situation over our fifth of Scottish whiskey as we celebrated St. Patrick’s Day and my daring rescue attempt saving Patrick’s life. 

It reminded me of a my favorite line from the Patty Griffin song, Mad Mission, – “We were drinking like the Irish but we were drinking scotch…”

The Long March- Hiking in Patagonia

We arrived after our seventeen-hour bus ride into the city of Puerto Natales.  It was the staging point for most hikes to Torres del Paine.  It was still a two-hour bus ride to the national park from there but it was the biggest city by far near the park.  From our friend, Nichola’s description the hike would be vigorous but rewarding. We were planning on renting equipment so we he could camp at night during the four-day hike that we organized for ourselves.

We were men and were going to conquer Patagonia. Why wouldn’t we camp?   It was because we were men. 

We went to the hostel that everyone mentions for hiking in Torres del Paine, the Erratic Rock.  Two American’s who call Chile home now own it.  They have developed a newspaper for the hiking and outdoor community in the region and their three hostels rent out all the equipment you need for hiking the famed ‘W Trail” of Torres del Paine.  They actually hold seminars on how to hike the “W.”  We decided we didn’t need the class.

We didn’t need any classes! It was because we were men. We were men and were going to conquer Patagonia.

They didn’t have room for us in the main hostel so the gave us a room in the annex. After the night in the annex, Patrick and I decided we were not going to shave until after the four-day hike.

Why would we shave?  We were men and were going to conquer Patagonia.  It was because we were men. 

We went to rent equipment and the owner was the only one who was there and he told us to come about 30 minutes before we getting the bus to Torres del Paine to get our equipment.  He didn’t want to disrupt the system his employees had but he guaranteed us the equipment we needed. 

Why would we worry about the equipment?  Everything works out in the end.  It was because we were men. 

We went and bought our food supplies for the four days. We planned for two meals a day.  We were told there were refugio’s (cabins) along the way where they would serve warm meals and if you needed a room at night they would have cots for people. In worse case scenarios, you could rent tents and sleeping bags from them if the cots were all filled up. 

We were ready to tackle Torres del Paine.  Why?  It was because we were men.

We got back to the hostel 45 minutes before our bus arrived to pick us up.  The equipment manager told us the owner was mistaken and that they didn’t have the things we needed but if we wanted to stay in town for the night they would be getting all the things we needed to be able to hike tomorrow.  If we stayed in town for the extra night, we wouldn’t be able to complete the whole “W” because we would have to leave early to get our flight to Buenos Aires.

Screw it.  We don’t need equipment, we can rent sleeping bags and tents from the refugios and we would only eat staples that don’t need to be cooked.

Why? We were flexible and could flow with the punches. It was because we were men.

We stored non-essential items at the hostel but our packs still weighed 30 pounds. We took the bus into the National Park where Torres del Paine was located.  We would be hiking with these packs for all four days.

The 30- pound packs were not going to be a problem.  Why?  It was because we were men. 

We got to the park entrance and paid our fee.  From the entrance, the park had a shuttle that would take us to the refugio.  It was only seven kilometers.  Since we didn’t have equipment we decided we would stay at the refugio for the first night and go hiking from there.  We were on the late afternoon bus so everyone except one couple took the shuttle to refugio.   We decided we would join the couple and hike the first seven kilometers into our first stop. It was a very easy hike and almost embarrassing that we considered taking the shuttle.

Why did we hike in when the shuttle was available?  Why?  It was because we were men.

We got to the refugio in no time flat. It wasn’t this rustic cabin with cots as we were led to believe.  It was as nice as a Hampton Inn.  There were no cots- there were beds with “heavenly mattresses”.  OK maybe not “heavenly mattresses” but close enough!  This is not where men stayed.  For crying out loud you could get a mud massage at this place.  We didn’t have any other choice so we stayed in our not so manly rooms with nice amenities and hot showers. 

As we planed our first leg of the “W” we met a Swiss guy who recommended that we try to do the first two days in one and take it easy for the rest.  “If you are in shape, it should be nor problem,” he told us. We decided after the easy hike and staying in the “Hilton” refugio, we needed something that was a challenge.

Why wouldn’t we do a day and a half hike in one day? How hard could this? We had just run on Antarctica! No problem.  Why? It was because we were men!

We woke up in the morning and started our hike around 9 am.  About four hours later we made it made it to the top of first part of the “W” in order to see the towers.  Luckily, the clouds cooperated and we got a pretty good view of the towers. 

After a lunch on top, we made our way down.  We needed to make it to the next refugio around 7 pm in time for dinner.   

We had five hours.  This should be no problem.  Why?  It is because we are men.

The last part of the hike was harder than either of us thought.  The 30-pound packs were weighing us down.  The hikes up in elevation were stressful.  At one point, I was sure that we would be able to see the site over the next hill but the next marker said we were still 2 hours away.  I was devastated and I looked at Patrick.  We didn’t say anything but we were both surprised about how much time we still had left.  We had both underestimated the trail.

We didn’t say anything nor complain.  Why? It was because we were men.

My trick when things get rough or difficult is I always think of others who have had it worse.  It usually gives me the strength I need to keep going.  I use this technique in all parts of my life.  I don’t have time to ever worry or feel sorry for myself. 

I kept reminding myself no matter how tired I was that this was not anything compared to how other people have felt.  At first I thought of my friend, Lesley, who is training for an Iron Man.  I mean that is exhausting.  After a while, I started thinking of the mountain climber, Ed Visterous.  He climbed 14 of the world’s tallest mountain peaks without oxygen. That is exhausting.  The last 30 minutes I needed to think of Captain Scott and his men from the expedition to Antarctica in 1911.  These guys man-hauled over two hundred pounds each over hundreds of miles in all conditions and elevations.  I was not tired those guys were tired. They were dead as well but you get the point. 

At one point we got to where a normally small creek was the next obstacle.  There were a group of three hikers-two men and one woman trying to figure out how to get over it.  The creek had risen dramatically and covered most of the rocks most climbers would use to walk over.  Patrick decided there was only one route and that was walking in calf deep water vs. risking slipping on the rocks and sliding down the sleep slope.  The two other guys followed his lead but the woman was too afraid of walking over.  Neither guy (and one was her boyfriend) would go back to help her so Patrick took it upon himself to go back in the freezing cold water to help her across.

Why would Patrick help the girl when her own boyfriend wouldn’t? Why? It is because he is a man.

It took me a while but I got over with out any help but my feet were frozen as well.  But we didn’t complain.  Why?  It was because we were men!

We eventually made it to the refugio a little after 9 pm.  We were in front of two women who were coming from the other direction.  They to were tired and looked like that had a long day like we did.  We got inside and I let Patrick deal with the reception.  He was going to get a room vs. a tent because we deserved a room after the twelve hours of strong hiking. Also, it had started to rain as we arrived to the refugio.

We deserved a room. Why? It was because we were men and had hiked 26 kilometers over 12 hours of rugged terrain.

One of the women sat down next to me.  We started to exchange our stories on the day.  I could tell she was tired.  She was a pretty woman from New York but her hair was matted down from being in a hat all day. She had a natural beauty and she had piercing blue eyes. They mesmerized me.  I continued on with our heroic tales of our 26-kilometer hike and then she began to smile.  It was a sly smile and her eyes were trying to tell me something. They were the types of eyes that could tell you a whole story before she even spoke a word.

What was she trying to tell me? I couldn’t tell.  Was she flirting with me?  I am too tired. 

But then after I was done with our story, she began to tell us their tale and she slowly mentioned that they had just finished a 28-kilometer hike over 12 hours.  Two more kilometers than us!  Her smile broadened and her eyes kept focus on mine.

I couldn’t look at her eyes anymore.  I now knew what her eyes were trying to tell me all along.  It was a simple story.

Why would you hike 28 kilometers in one day?  Why?  It was because they were women.

Getting ready to Hike in Patagonia...

We got off the Antarctica boat a little bit before 7 am on the morning of March 12.  I said good-bye to the people who were heading off to the airport because Patrick and I decided to stay a night in Ushuaia-it ended up being two nights in the end.  We needed a break from the boat.  Some time to decompress and figure out our plans for the next stop for our whirlwind tour. 

Prior to even getting together with the Marathon group two weeks earlier, Patrick and I made the executive decision that we were going to stay in the Southern part of Argentina and/or Chile so we extended our flight back to Buenos Aires for ten days.

Rewind to the first night I was in Santiago-February 14.  I was there before Patrick because he was held over in Atlanta for weather reasons after visiting his fiancé for her birthday in Michigan.  I had put out on the blog a request to readers if anyone had any contacts in Chile and my friend, Joe Banick, had replied within minutes that a former teacher from his district was teaching at the international school in Santiago.  I e-mailed her before I got on the plane and by the time I landed she had replied with an invitation to her apartment complex for a barbeque her and her colleague were throwing for the teachers at her school for the new semester.  WHY WOULDN’T I BE INVITED ON MY FIRST DAY IN TOWN TO A BARBEQUE?  It is the story of travel that things always work out for you in the end.  Rule # 1 of Singh Around the World!

The barbeque was a blast.  I met some great people who were teaching at the school.  They were very passionate about their jobs and all seemed to be genuinely enjoying their experience living in Santiago.  I also met a number of local Chileans who worked at the school or were friends with the teachers at the school.

I took a shine to one of the friends.  Needless to say, my lack of Spanish and her lack of English was one of our many hurdles.  The other hurdle was my lack of salsa skills.  The moves that made me popular at the Guatemalan wedding in January were antiquated in Santiago.  Plus if you know me—I don’t have any game.  The one thing I did take from our conversations in each other’s broken languages was that I had to go hiking in Torres del Paine- the Chilean-side of Patagonia.  It was not on the world list but I was enamored with her so it was added to the list immediately.   Though I did get her phone number, I never did call because I knew the language barrier would be too much.

Why didn’t I take Spanish classes before I left?  Salsa dancing classes?  How to pick up ladies when you can’t speak their language classes?  I mean something.

While we were on the boat for our trip to Antarctica, we hung out with Nicola, a nurse from Utah, and she was hiking both the Argentinean and Chilean sides of Patagonia after the Antarctica trip.  Since we didn’t have any maps, let alone a plan she became our consultant on where to hike.  After a session with her, Patrick and I decided to hike the famed “W” hike in Torres del Paine just as was recommended by my Chilean crush.

We spent two days in Ushuaia as we planned our trip to Torres del Paine.  One of our friends from the boat, James from Paris, offered up his room in Ushuaia for us to crash in for the two nights.  I am not sure if he thought we would take him up on the offer but when you are the road and a free room comes up-- you take it.  It means two more nights of travel in the future.  We are hoping to meet up with James in Paris for Bastille Day this summer. 

By March 14, we were ready to head to Torres del Paine.  It was a seventeen-hour bus ride from Ushuaia but everyone we talked to told us it was well worth it.  They were not wrong but that is the story for my next blog post…