My second day in El Calafate was spent navigating the glacial lakes of the region. At least, that's what I think happened. Nothing knocks me out faster than a boat trip on rolling waters, especially when I'm as sleep deprived as I am now. It was pretty much just an expensive nap punctuated with amazing scenery. Here's a sample:
I'm not doing a full day boat trip justice by describing it in three sentences, but I'm excited to tell you about the rest of the week, so here goes.
I had signed up for a highly recommended overnight trip across the Chilean border to see the Torres del Paine national park. But when I got back from the boat trip, the hostel staff told me that there weren't enough people going, and the trip was cancelled. I wasn't too upset, since the trip cost a lot of money (hostel-organized trips usually do). It was $200, which may not seem like a ton, but it goes a very long way down here. Plus, after singing up, I heard that the relatively undiscovered Argentine side of the same mountain range was even more spectacular. So there I was, with two newly-free days, and itching for an adventure. There wasn't any time to waste, so that night I bought a ticket for an early bus to El Chalten, the base camp for exploring the mountains. Even though the majority of the 4 hour trip was along a dirt road, I slept like a baby.
I got in around lunch time to the smallest town I've ever seen (Argentina's newest, by the way). There was just one road with a scattering of hostels, restaurants, and outdoor stores. I had a backpack full of food--no surprise--but I didn't have any other camping gear to speak of. Thankfully, the weather was surprisingly pleasant. (The night before, my German hostel roommates told me of their experience, "Yaah, zee vehzer vas haribul".)
I asked around for a camping store, and one was recommended as having good prices. I should have asked for one with good equipment, but that's another lesson learned. I rented a tent, a sleeping bag, and a ground pad. $10, total.
I set off around 2, alone, but it wasn't too long before I found my first hiking buddy, another German. The weather was absolutely spectacular, and the views were even better. Take a look:
We hiked into the park for a couple of hours until he had to turn back; he wasn't camping. I forged ahead, again solo, with only one semi-serious episode of "where the hell am I?" Around 7 or so, I found the campsite that I was looking for and began to set up my gear. Remember, I was fresh off of running up a mountain with the Italian national team, so I had began to think of myself as a regular Sir Edmund Hillary. This is the mindset I was in when I started constructing my comically undersized mancoon of a tent, so you can imagine my frustration at taking almost an hour to put it together. It was a crappy tent, already in rough shape, but my ineptitude just about destroyed it. Notice the duct tape.
Embarrassed by showing just how much of a greenhorn I was, I sheepishly looked around, expecting army grade gear and rugged, trail-worn faces. What I saw were otherwise peaceful people just about at blows with their camping partners over which piece goes where. I wasn't alone.
A Belgian guy that was on my boat trip recognized me and came over to chat. He was an interesting guy that's been all over the world, but what really held my attention was his camping stove. The sun was starting to set, cooling off the forest dramatically. Not to mention, the campsite was right at the snowline, so it got pretty chilly. Besides, the can of creamed corn that I brought for dinner would have tasted awful if I ate it cold.
Once night fell, an amazing day quickly turned into a harrowing night. After making plans with the Belgian, I retired to my "tent" to discover that the sleeping bag that I had rented barely made it up to my nipples. And it stunk. By this point, the sun had completely set and I was violently shaking, wondering how bad things might get. Now, for those of you who have never warded off hypothermia at high altitude, it puts some pretty crazy ideas into your head. First one: I could borrow the Belgain's camping stove and build the world's most poorly placed space heater. That one didn't stick around too long, don't worry. At the same time, I wasn't yet comfortable enough with my Belgian buddy to ask to share his tent, but the idea did cross my mind. What I ended up settling on was putting on every piece of clothing that I had brought. Two shirts, two socks, two pairs of boxers (ever so important), pants, a fleece, and a windbreaker. I had even considered putting on my shoes, but they wouldn't have fit in my sleeping bag.
Somehow, I managed to fall asleep for a few minutes (a testament to how tired I was), but even then, my mind was playing games with me. I had the most vivid dream of an early sunrise and a warm morning, and was halfway out of my tent before I realized what happened. And I wasn't happy about it. I didn't really fall asleep until after the sun came up, only to wake up to the alarm clock that I forgot to turn off. The morning wasn't much better than the night, so I literally ran laps around the campsite to warm up while waiting for my friend to rise. He had his own gear, so his peaceful, warm slumber was cut short by a temporarily insane Myles violently shaking his tent. I still don't feel sorry for him.
Our hike that morning warmed me up quite well. The prize of the park is a 500 meter trek to the closest and best viewpoint of the giant granite cliffs you saw in the background of the last photo. But here's the kicker, the altitude change was also just about 500 meters, so it was like climbing 5 football fields' worth of stairwells. It was tough. But, as is the theme, the view was well worth the effort. The climb led to a secluded lake that had formed in the crater on the side of one of the mountains. Imagine reaching the summit of a very tough hike and immediately being surrounded with more natural beauty than you've ever thought possibe. Giant granite cliffs, a water fall, a secluded lake, snow capped mountains and wind swept plains all in one amazing panarama. The photos don't do it justice.
The afternoon consisited of a relatively calm hike back, which was entirely resisted by my exhausted legs, but I made it back. A cup of tea, a nap on the bus, and a warm shower had never sounded so good. Now, if anyone's wondering, it had been 4 tough days since my last bathing, so I was like human paint thinner Not that I'm bragging.
I've got one more tale to tell, but it's mostly pictures, so I might as well include them in this posting. Yesterday was spent on the ground, touring of the world's only non-receding glacier, Perito Moreno. It's the size of Buenos Aires, and absolutely incredible, take a look:
Tonight, I'm off to the end of the world, talk to you then!
M
