Finally, I arrive in Patagonia! The flight from Santiago to Punta Arenas was filled with adventure seekers – folks of all ages sporting daypacks and hiking shoes as well as an assortment Patagonia hats and jackets. Punta Arenas sits on the Straits of Magellan, almost at the bottom of South America. It is the largest city in the Patagonia region and serves as an important port as well as base for excursions to the wilderness parks and/or Antarctica.
Flags of the Magallanes and Chilean Antarctica Region and Chile
The van ferrying me from the airport to the hotel was swerving all over the road, almost taking out a bicyclist! The erratic driving was no doubt due in part to the famed Patagonia wind, but it seemed mostly due to the wavering attention of the driver. I met the rest of our group (six in all, plus our guide Cem) for orientation and dinner, then off to bed for an early start the following day.
After rising for a 5:30 am breakfast, we boarded a boat for the Magellan Strait and our trip to see the Magellanic penguins of Magdalena Island. The entire island is a national nature preserve with limited public access save a ~1 mile circular path from which one can view the some of the ~65,000 breeding pairs of penguins as well as an assortment of waterfowl that inhabit the island. By arriving early in the day, we were able to observe the penguins starting their day, before they ventured into the sea in search of food. The path wound up and around a small hillside peppered with hundreds of penguin nests. And penguins everywhere! They groomed, gathered, waddled, vocalized, peeked out of their nests, and glided into the sea. Baby penguins ~1-1.5 months old were distinguished by the lighter color and/or the fuzziness of their coat. In addition to the penguins, there were a variety gulls and waterfowl, many also with young. On the way back to Punta Arenas, I went on deck in hopes of spotting the plume of one of the whales that roamed the Strait. Alas, no whale plume, but I relished being in the bracing air and watching the changing colors of the sea and sky as the rainy, misting morning gave way to a bit of sunshine and patches of blue.
The Plaza de Armas located in the center of Punta Arenas has a monument honoring Hernando de Magellanes, or Ferdinand Magellan. Magellan is perched atop a large rectangular base, with additional figures on each side. On one side is a Selk’nam Patagonian Indian and legend has it that if you touch, or kiss, the toe of the Indian you will return to Patagonia.
Plaza de Armas is home to a statue honoring Ferdinand Magellan
It is said if you kiss the toe of the Selk’nam Patagonian Indian, you will return to Patagonia. So many have touched/kissed the toe that the patina has worn off the foot
After lunch, we headed to Puerto Natales, one of the major launching sites for trips into the Parque Nacional Torres del Paine. The town of ~12,000 is filled with a sense of excitement and anticipation of great adventures to come – gear stores, excursion companies, hostels, not to mention bars, restaurants, and souvenir shops. Admittedly, I was one of those “adventure seekers”, ready to be challenged and rewarded by getting to know Patagonia up close and personal. We were doing the W trek, a four-day backpacking trip through the Parque whose route is shaped like a “W”. It was to be my first trekking experience, and I was more than a little nervous. I met my pack in Puerto Natales, and after dinner sorted and resorted through the clothes and items I wanted/needed to take – with the goal of a lightening my load as much as possible. A bit like packing the panniers, except I would carry all on my back and my feet, not wheels, would be the mode of transportation.
The following day, Anna and Dania joined our group to help guide us on the W trek. A 2 hr drive to the Parque took us through the pampas where we spotted rhea and guanaco. The first day’s trek was an 11 km hike up to Torre del Paine, the eponymous blue towers of the Parque Nacional. Seven years ago, a photo of Torres del Paine planted the first seed for my trip Patagonia. Today, the towers were encased in clouds, though sunshine and a cool breeze at the start indicated we might have a clear view by the time we reached our destination, some 5 hr later. By 10:30, we had stowed our backpacks at the Refugio, taking only a small dayback with lunch, water, jacket and camera. The trail followed and criss-crossed the Rio Ascension – steep in places, along high passes high above the river, then through forests pierced with sunlight. We had lunch along the river, refreshing our bottles with the cool glacial river water. As we neared the towers, the terrain opened up and we picked our way up and across the glacial moraine. Excitement built as I glimpsed the towers at several points along the way. Finally, after the ~3,000 foot climb, we reached the view point – the three towers looming over a blue-green glacial lake. I shed my daypack, scrambling over and around rocks until, finding a good perch, I sat and took it all in – the magnificence of the towers, the surreal hue of the lake, the background murmurs from a multitude of hikers who had also journeyed to this special place, a place of “jagged peaks…bearing the semblance of delicate Gothic spires” (Lady Florence Dixie, 1879).
Small troop of guanaco's spotted on way to Parque Nacional Torres del Paine
After the obligatory celebratory and group photos, we headed back down. Though my hamstring had given me no problems on the way up (hurrah!), I started to experience sore quads (expected) and pain in my toes (not expected). I stopped at one point to apply moleskin to my big toe, which provided some relief. We made it back to the Refugio about 8 pm, just in time for dinner of green salad, salmon, and ice cream sundaes. The Refugio was quite impressive, with a bar well-stocked with a local beers and Chilean wine – definitely not the “MASH” dining tent I was imagining. After dinner, I was more than very relieved to take off my boots – only to find that I had lost one toenail and was developing blisters/blood blisters in several toes. My boots were fairly new, purchased a few months ago after realizing that both pairs of my current boots were too small. I had walked about 50 miles on them, mostly on flat ground but also some ups and downs – where I could find them in Iowa. However, Iowa is not the Andes, and the boots were clearly too small and/or not sufficiently broken in. The next morning began with what would become a daily routing – Anna patiently, and with good humor, applying antibiotic ointment and bandages to each of the affected toes. She was my savior!
The next day’s destination was Refugio Los Cuernos, which lay at the base of Cuernos del Paine, three peaks, or horns, comprised of sheer walls of light granite topped with jagged peaks of dark metamorphic rock. The route was up and down, 11 km along the north shore of Lago Nordenskjöld. Although a relatively easy day, it was the first day fully loaded with our packs. Throughout the day, I struggled not only in how to load my pack, but how to hoist it on my back and adjust the various straps. Anna, Dania, and Liz (a group member) all proffered advice and help - I was feeling most grateful but also out of sorts. I’m definitely a novice at this! Elevating my spirits were the clear blue skies, the sunshine and the beauty of my surroundings. Each steep climb was rewarded with an expansive of glacial lakes that varied in color from vivid blue to green. The sun brought welcome warmth, and I was able to de-layer down to my tee shirt. As we neared the Refugio Los Cuernos, the horns appeared and seemed to grow in size, their distinct color pattern looking to me, an avowed ice cream lover, a bit like a chocolate sundae.
As we start the day, we bid farewell to the towers of Torres de Paine, now visible on this clear and sunny day
Day 3 of the W trek was probably my toughest. The morning route continued along Lago Nordenskjöld, down to its shore where we enjoyed a short break skipping rocks. We reached the Camp Italiano ranger station around noon and dropped off our packs for the climb up the French Valley. The valley follows Rio Francés as it winds between the Los Cuernos peaks and Paine Grande, the highest peak in the Parque. The Glacier Francés lies near the foot of Paine Grande, and numerous viewpoints of the glacier and glacial moraine are passed on the hike up the valley. The click-clack of trekking poles on ice was periodically interrupted by the thunderous roar of avalanches cascading down Paine Grande. The trail was a little steep, requiring careful navigation through paths of small and medium sized rocks. At one point, we waited in small but sunny patch for everyone to catch up. After checking how everyone was doing, it was decided that a small group would continue up the valley, but slower members were asked to head down. I initially started up the valley, eager to go keep going. Within a minute or two, I confronted the fact that my feet were really, really sore. Moreover, the pain of going downhill was exacerbated by the uneven terrain and stepping/hopping from rock to rock. Although it pained my soul, my the pain in my feet won out and I retraced my steps to join the slower group.
We slowly made our way down to Camp Italiano and retrieved out packs, heading across Rio Francés via a somewhat sketchy suspension bridge. I stayed with the others for almost an hour, but the pain in my feet propelled me to get to the next refugio as quickly as possible. Alone I hiked on, through lakeside slopes recovering from a recent fire. The trail was the easiest yet, and all things considered I made pretty good time to the Paine Grande Refugio. Cem, who had skipped the French Valley, met me with a big smile and a high five. He showed my room, whereupon I removed my boots and discovered that a large blood blister had formed under the nail of one toe – YECH! Fortunately, in addition to Anna, we had both a nurse and nurse practitioner in the group. They triaged my toe and recommend “surgery”, which was postponed until after dinner. Donning surgical gloves, Nurse Liz bathed my toe in iodine and pierced the blister with a sterile safety pin, thereby releasing ~3 cc of somewhat vile fluid. After copious rinsing with sterile saline/alcohol, the toe was patted dry, rested for about 20 minutes, and carefully wrapped in antibiotic ointment and gauze. When unwrapped the following morning, all declared the “surgery” a success, at least as measured by reduced swelling and the absence of infection. Although the toes were still painful, the fear of infection lessened and I was able to soldier on.
Picnic spot/turn around in the French Valley. We had a great view of the Paine Grande glacial moraine, and witnessed several avalanches on the way up the valley
The final day of the W trek took us to Grey Lake, whose color is formed by the sediment running off Grey Glacier. It was a clear crisp day and the wind had picked up considerably. The 11 km route took us up to the Grey Glacier viewpoint, from where the glacier field seemed to cascade down into the lake. Several small icebergs cast their blue and white hues in the sunlight. We braced against the cold wind for photos and then headed down to Refugio Grey for a lunch of warm lentil soup. We were all in good cheer as we celebrated the successful completion of the W trek. The following day, I skipped the glacier hike, and hiked down to the lake edge in my flip-flops. We boarded and excursion boat that took us right up to the edge of Grey Glacier before heading back down the lake where we caught a van ride back to Puerto Natales. After many photos, I went below deck and toasted the end of our W trek with a ginger ale and glacial ice. We checked into our hotel, took a very long and very hot shower, and had a celebratory dinner at a local restaurant on the waterfront overlooking the fjords. Although we were a slow group, often exceeding the expected travel time by 50% or more, Team Turtle was encouraging and supportive of one another. The guides were outstanding: Anna who laughed at my jokes and tended my toes with great cheer; and Cem with his sense of humor, encouragement and can-do attitude. For me, the journey was arduous, but soaring - a singular accomplishment through a spectacular and awe-inspiring area of the earth.
Grey Lake speckled with small icebergs that have split off from Grey Glacier
Scott AndersonOh, my gosh. I want to go! When Rachael sees the photos of the penguins and guanaco, she’ll swoon too. I’m so sorry about your feet, but it gives you a chance to meditate on what it must have been like for the Shackleton expedition a century ago. Reply to this comment 5 years ago
Susan CarpenterTo Suzanne GibsonThanks Suzanne - it has been a truly extraordinary experience. My toes have healed a bit and hope they're ready for the biking, which begins today. Reply to this comment 5 years ago
Susan CarpenterTo Scott AndersonScott - I do think that you and Rachel would love it here! I'm happy to give more info any time. Thank you for the toe sympathy - they are well on they're way to healing and I'm hoping are good for the bike trip, which I begin today. Reply to this comment 5 years ago
Jacquie GaudetSo sad about the foot problem, but I'm glad to know I'm not the only adult whose feet keep growing out of hiking boots. At 60, my feet are almost two full sizes bigger than they were at 20. Reply to this comment 5 years ago
Susan CarpenterThanks for the concerns Jacquie! I made it back home having lost only half my toenails! The feet are recovering, and I just bought a new pair of bike shoes - one size larger. Reply to this comment 5 years ago
