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Trekking the Torres
del Paine Circuit in the Patagonian Andes -
Page 2
Lago Dickson
to Los Perros (9.5 kms)
This is where
the Doris Day movie definitely ends. It seemed like a short day.
The map said so; it’s supposed to be 3.5 hours. Another group came
to call the approximate hours on the map, "Map Hours" and then added
a couple hours.
We woke up to
torrential rains. We figured we had a short day’s hike, so we stayed
cocooned in our sleeping bags until after 10:00 am and finally gave
up waiting out the rain, ate more crappy oatmeal and packed up.
Decked out in full rain gear, we climbed for well over an hour to
the top of a mountain ridge and then began to walk in a windy, mossy
forest of tall birch.
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and there we had a little patch of sunlight; enough to eat a snack for lunch
and take some photos of the tumbling waterfall. But the forest continued
and continued and continued. I stood and stared. Below me was a stone-ridden
gully with an icy blue torrent about 50 feet down. Ahead of me was a swing
bridge. Cables snapped and frayed, planks missing and the screaming wind
that we had heard in the forest was in full force, bobbing and swinging
the bridge merrily. To the left was Glaciar Los Perros stretching up the
mountainside. |
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With
few options but to move forward, I crawled under a steel cable
(the entrance is reinforced with a cable right across it)
and wriggled my backpack under with me. I stood with the leaping
structure under me feeling the cold, wet metal through my
fleece gloves. Judging the distance and the lack of planks,
I chose my route. This is where a little yogic breathing came
in handy as I picked my way over the leaping structure. I
was one happy girl when I reached the other side.
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Pina,
who had been unhappy about so many little things, wasn’t that perturbed
by the bridge. Still, I was happy when she was on the other side.
Happy for a few minutes at least. |
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We climbed
up the stoney scree towards the glacier in a spectacular wind
with stinging hail. We fought our way up the slope and I belly-flopped
to crawl up to see Los Perros. It was beautiful with chunks
of floating ice in its lake. But its fury was too much and we
moved on through the scree. The wind and hail increased so we
took cover hoping it would pass.It didn’t, so we kept fighting
our way through with Pina being blown over at one point. |
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seemed like an interminable time before we finally wound our way down
to Campamento Los Perros. It seemed like the place didn’t even exist
for a while, but finally we rounded a corner and a tiny patch of forest
was tucked between the glacier winds and mountain winds. What a relief
to get there. |
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set up the tent in the snow and hail and strung out the many windproof
ties then headed into the pass hut to see what was what. Now here’s
one of my favourite things in the whole wide world, a pass hut. I
love them. The excitement, the discussions, the stories, the warmth
from, in this case, a fire in an old oil barrel, everyone cooking
on their camp stoves in the cozy shed, the line of boots drying around
the fire, the clotheslines above the fire, the dirt floor and crazy
hats. It has an air of merriment that beats any party I’ve ever been
to. One of the guys we’d met on the trail had a travel guitar and
strummed a little tune. Outside the wind howled from all directions.
Inside the main topic is whether or not the weather will clear for
the pass tomorrow. That day, everyone had to stay in camp. Some groups
had tried to make the pass but had returned wet and muddy. The storm
we had come into had winds ranging from 80-100 kms an hour and nobody
had made the pass that day. We were in the hut until nearly 11:30
pm before we returned through the cold mud to settle in for the night.
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Campmento Los Perros to Campo Paso (7 kms)
But a tough 7 kms. Give me 20 kilometres of winding valley over
quagmires any day!
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All night the
winds howled and when the alarm went off at 6:00 am (passes are
usually best attempted early in the day) I blearily hopped out of
bed to check out the weather. Blue skies. Hallelujah. I looked at
a guide and asked whether he also thought it was a good day and
he said it was.
I went back
to the tent to rouse Pina, who then said she hadn’t slept a wink
due to the noise of the winds.
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Good weather doesn’t
come often, so we had to make a break for it. It sucked that she hadn’t
slept, though. Not good on a pass day.
The night before in
the pass hut we had the good fortune to meet Xavier (he had guided a photographer
up until Lago Dickson and decided to continue the route on his own for
the sixth time), a gentle mountain guide who was more than happy to form
a group to attempt the pass. Four other Chileans joined us as well. So
we began heading for the pass. .
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But first we
had to get through the pantano: a quagmire of twisted trees and knee-deep
frigid mud. Fun. I was definitely pleased to have my gaiters on. After
splashing through the glacier river, I headed up onto the scree to
wait for Pina and Xavier. The Chileans were well ahead of us by then.
As I waited, I took in the racing clouds, panoramic peaks, glaciers
and blue sky. point. The chances of having clear weather for the pass
is very small and every 15 minutes or so I thanked whoever it is that
needed to be thanked for answering the little requests I’d been sending
out to the world. How incredibly lucky. |
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the weather held, too. As we scrambled up the scree, over the ice, onto
the glacier, over the rocks, against the wind towards the pass, the weather
held. |
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The little orange
flag that marks the top was a triumphant moment for me and I did a
little football-type dance. It isn’t a huge pass but the weather can
make it horrible. But the weather was beautiful and as I hit the top
the massive wrinkled expanse of Glacier Grey stretched before me with
the mountains as a backdrop. I sat my butt in a drift of snow and
dug for my photo gear and chatted excitedly to Xavier. Then up came
Pina, rather emotionally making the pass. |
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Off we went down the
scree on a number of switchbacks to eventually come into an incredibly
steep forest with plenty of mud. That was quite the navigation feat and
to be quite honest, I’m not sure when my knees will recover from the constant
jarring. We went down for a couple hours in this and Pina is quite bruised.
My North Face boots once again proved remarkable and I only wiped out
twice. Mind you, I was also sitting in the mud and sliding down on my
bum at a number of points too. Eventually we cleared this area and made
it to Campamento Paso.
We went up to the
cooking shed and drew water from the small waterfall beside it. Less than
a kilometer away, a massive wall of ice marked the beginning of Glacier
Gray. Xavier knew a spot that was a great lookout and we sat above the
thousands of kilometres of wrinkled, cragged blue ice and he produced
some vermouth and we had a drink.
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Page 1 - Back to the beginning
Page 3 - Campamento Paso to Refugio
Gray
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