Day Five: Our first meeting with...

the infamous Patagonian wind. 

I walked outside in the early morning light and did the usual glance upward. Hmm. Not bad, minimum clouds and pleasantly warm temperatures. Yippee! Another day of hiking in shorts was coming my way. 

We began our 13 mile hike to the Dickson Refugio by walking upstream along a riverbank. Our map's elevation profile projected fair to mostly flat with a 100% chance of a minor pass. All was honky dory until the divide. A blast of icy wind struck me full on in the kisser. I had to retreat to don my Windstopper jacket and hat. I tightened all my straps and Velcro snaps. In essence, I was battening down the hatches. I waited for Lisa to appear and issued a high wind warning to her. We headed up and over. 

I estimated the winds to be about 40 MPH. We were getting pushed around a lot. Luckily the gusts were forcing us into the hillside instead of down the hillside. It took about ten minutes before we were through the mini-maelstrom. For me, the experience felt like being a kite in a hurricane. On the other hand, Lisa found the experience to be "exhilarating and fun." Once again, typical men vs. women stuff. 

On the final descent to the Dickson Refugio, we spotted semi truck sized icebergs bobbing in the greenish waters of Lagos Dickson. The potential frozen margaritas were calving off the distant Dickson glacier. It was an amazing scene, and something I never saw in Tucson, Arizona. The rest of the day was spent in a long drawn out Happy Hour and glacier photo shoot. 

This sure beats working.

Sleep well Jenny and

Good night from my Refugio bunk bed.

Jeff

Day Four: We sure could use the...

Moisture.

At 2ish am, the not too gentle pitter patter of rain striking nylon rocked me from my sleep. Of course, the laundry was hanging outside. Oh well, an extra rinse cycle couldn't hurt. 

After breakfast, the rain subsided long enough to perform the unenviable task of packing a spongy wet tent and damp sleeping bag. Everything was divided in my too many black plastic garbage bags. One for soaking stuff, one for just damp stuff and one that held not many items - my dry stuff. I was wearing the dry stuff already. 

Downhill we went in intermittent showers and dappled sunshine. (Rainbow provided by Patagonian weather.) On an upscale hotel's patio, we made like we owned the place and set the gear out to dry. I was amazed no one came out to tell us to scram in Spanish. 

Once that chore was done, we repacked and started uphill once again.

It was a put on the rain gear, take off the rain gear hike through forested lands. The trees were as macabre looking as Edgar Allen Poe's creative writings. They were kind of spooky. Eventually the landscape changed dramatically (in a good way) below us. A milky glacial river sashayed across a wide valley, fields of daisies took up residence along its flood plain and the usual waterfalls cascaded down from the brown foothills. Pretty nice natural eye candy.

At the Seron camp, we wasted no time getting into the R&R mode. After four days of trekking, we were about to get into the hard stuff. We had many kilometers to go and one steep 3300' foot climb up and over John Gardner Pass to negotiate in order to complete the loop. 

We hope the tempestuous weather treats us kindly. 

Good Morning, Jenny.

Cheers,

Jeff

Day Three: Where's my cotton tank top...

and shorts? 

I awoke (after a restless slumber in a one star rated Refugio) and stumbled outside. I looked up and saw sunrise colored peaks and a sky that featured absolutely no clouds. I pinched myself, thinking I was still asleep and dreaming. Fortunately, it was real and it was warm. 

After fortifying ourselves on instant coffee once again, (how hard can it be to make a few pots of real coffee?) we set off. I was wearing shorts and a thin long sleeve shirt. It seemed like eternity since I wasn't shrouded in full fleece and Windstopper. 

For the moment summer had returned. I felt energized and motivated. 

We trekked past fields of wild flowers to the next camp. The many peaks weeped waterfalls. It was all fun and games until we arrived.

The scene at the Chileno campground was a chaos of day hikers, horses (lots of poop) and backpackers. Everyone was there to see the objects of their desires (except the horses), the Torres del Paine. We checked in, set up and took off uphill.

One must not tarry in Patagonia when the sun is shining. You've got to seize the moment. We passed tour groups, mud holes and many rickety bridges. A series of switchbacks led to a high saddle. We crested it. There they were. 

I had to sit down to take it all in. Awesome is an overused descriptor. Same as magnificent, incredible and beautiful. The towers were better than I ever imagined and I have a lot of imagination. I was very happy to be there. 

I'll shut up and let the photos speak. 

Cheers,

Jeff