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

Day Two: What a difference a day makes (again)...

Good news: The rain and snow left with Santa and his reindeer. The winds aren't  strong enough to fly a kite. The temperature isn't screaming "Beware of hyperthermia" like on Christmas Day.

Bad news: Fresh White Death clung to the hillsides, the trees and dotted the muddy trail. 

As we progressed east, we glimpsed some streaks of blue above us. Glacier fed aquamarine lakes sat below us. Later on, the clouds parted. A mass of Patagonian mountains and ice fields materialized out of the mist. Wow! They really did exist. There was reason I was wearing fleece, a jacket and and a wool hat in the summer. I guess a little discomfort is OK for this kind of payoff. 

At the Refugio, my fellow backpackers and me scan the high horizon and smile. The Southern Hemisphere sunshine defrosts us from yesterday's White Death chill and damp.

We have no idea on what variety of sociopathic weather will arrive in the next few hours let alone the next day. For the moment, we're all happy. 

I'll take it. 

The weather for the moment is even warm enough for Jenny. She makes me look like an Antarctica explorer when it comes to cold. 

Cheers,

Jeff 

Day One: Christmas Day in Torres del Paine National Park...

It was a sullen mass of would be backpackers on the 3.5 hour bus ride to the park. The coach turned left onto the appropriately named "End of the World Road." From a distance we saw the jagged towers (the reason everyone's here). The closer our hard working bus got to the park the faster the majestic scene went bye-bye. Rain clouds and fog enveloped the would be views.

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). 

Jeff