Meaning: we would all be hiking in rain clouds and fog.
We weren't happy campers.
We got off at the end of the road and began our 10.5 miles hike to the Grande Paine Refugio. A constant drip, drip drip was our unwanted hiking companion. Fortunately the wind took Christmas off. It would have been scary if this were not so. The terrain was mostly flat with a few bumps. My camera never came out of its plastic bag coating. It was an uneventful, underwhelming trudge to our shelter.
As I write this, there's no reason to dream of a white Christmas. Fat juicy White Death flakes are now issuing forth. Irving Berlin and Bing Crosby would smile. I'm not smiling.
I'm just hoping conditions change ASAP and not for the worse.
Chilean weather sure has a twisted view of summer.
Which reminds me. Come on Southern Summer!
Merry Christmas to all and to all a Good Night, (You too Jenny).