En Patagonia: Chapter Seven

I bought a trekking map at one of the little souvenir shops – it had all the trails clearly marked, and it even gave an estimated time as to how long each route would take. I would spend hours in the coming weeks poring over it. I’d take it out each morning while I had a coffee, and have a last look each night before I went to bed. It was absolutely perfect for planning out the days ahead, and I made a mental list of everything I hoped to do. There wasn’t really much of a need to have a map as a navigational tool – the trails of all the main hikes were so clearly defined, and there was good signage along the way. I loved how accessible it all was – you could have done next to no hiking at all, and you would still have been able to come here and enjoy the benefits of being in such a beautiful place. There is an argument against having signage (and I realise that this is a nuanced discussion and can depend on location etc), but I don’t think that wooden markers or a splash of paint on a rock is going to take away from the beauty of the surroundings, nor are they what stands between us believing that we are in a wilderness free of human activity and human impact. That is not to negate the importance of good navigation and being responsible whilst out walking. But even having that awareness comes largely from a position of privilege – to have grown up having had the opportunity to spend time in the outdoors, and to have the knowledge, the confidence, the time, and the financial means to access it during adulthood. While I don’t have the answers as to how more people can safely enjoy the outdoors – I do think that any snobbery (from those who already enjoy the benefits of it) only serves to put up barriers rather than breaking them down. Over the next two weeks I would see all sorts of different people out on the trails – some who were carrying enough stuff to survive for a month, and others who were just carrying a bottle of water and a coat tied around their waist. On one occasion I saw a man wearing a smart suit – he had made it to Laguna de los Tres just fine, and he was walking back in the sunshine with his jacket draped over his shoulder. All that was missing was a briefcase to carry his packed lunch.

Signpost to Laguna Torre

Without a doubt the two most popular hiking trails from El Chaltén are the Sendero Fitz Roy and the Sendero al Torre. The Fitz Roy trail is slightly deceptive in name – it is not a trail up the mountain itself, but to the glacial lake of Laguna de los Tres which sits at approximately 1,000m above sea level (compared to the 3,405m of Monte Fitz Roy). The views are however spectacular, and in the two weeks that I was in El Chaltén I made the hike up there twice – once when the peaks were hidden in the clouds, and once when everything was in view. The majority of the walk is through beautiful forests, with mountain streams and wild flowers completing the scene. There was a delicious warmth to the air – the kind that you can feel right through to your bones. So many times, I found myself with a smile upon my face without even realising. Some days I would walk quickly, with a great sense of purpose, while on other occasions I would amble along in a daze. And of course, even though I was somewhere so utterly stunning there would be moments or there would be days where perhaps I felt a little anxious or a little low. But rather than feel bad that I was feeling like that in a place where, objectively, happiness is assumed, I tried to simply accept it and carry on. And it’s amazing the things that fall away or fall into place when you’re out walking for several hours.

Sendero Fitz Roy 

Whatever sort of day it was though, and however fast or slow I moved, I would always make time to stop and look around, to pause and really breathe. There was just so much to see, and perhaps my favourite things of all were the wild flowers, and the water. Some of the lakes were a turquoise blue, while others such as Laguna Torre were a milky sort of grey. And I would often stand transfixed looking into a mountain river or stream, watching the way in which the sunlight interacted with the water, and trying to predict the pattens that would form as the stream flowed through the shallows and the depths.

The turquoise blue of Laguna de los Tres

I wouldn’t describe the Sendero Fitz Roy trail as particularly arduous at all, although there was a steepness to the last section – up to the high point of the route, 1,187m above sea level. And the Sendero Laguna Torre was more gentle, still. Aside from a gradual elevation gain in the first few kilometres, much of the trail seemed almost flat. 

Hikers on the Sendero Laguna Torre

This was also through delightful Patagonian Forest, and it was here that I saw my first Magellanic Woodpecker – I was lucky enough to see four in total throughout the trip.

Magellanic Woodpecker

I also saw condors, parakeets, ibis, and flamingos (in El Calafate). And possibly the most remarkable wildlife sighting of the journey was a Patagonian Fox – not too far from Laguna de los Tres. But there was no sign of the elusive puma, which, on balance, I think I’m quite grateful for.

Patagonian Fox 

 Upon reaching Laguna Torre there was the option to carry on further to Mirador Maestri which offered a viewpoint of the Glacier Grande. On this rocky ridgeline of sorts, with the gradient dropping sharply to the waters of Laguna Torre below, a wonderous array of wildflowers could be found. The most eye-catching of all being the Chilean Firetree Emborthyium with its flowers a brilliant red.

Chilean Firetree Emborthyium

There were a few people hunkered down at the viewpoint trying to seek some shelter from the wind – the majority of folk had not ventured beyond the shore of Laguna Torre, and it felt a little bit like a victory in escaping the crowds. I asked a woman if she would mind taking a photo of me – my mum might not forgive me if I didn’t appear in at least one! This was not as straightforward as it seemed though, as both of us were struggling to keep our feet in the wind.

Trying to keep upright! 

I mentioned before about the privilege of growing up with access to the outdoors – and I felt a strong sense of privilege at being where I was now. I felt so grateful every time I went out walking - grateful for every twist of fate and fortune that had brought me here. Of course, a lot of that was due to decisions that I had made throughout my life, and of following passions, and of hard work. But there is so much beyond that – some cosmic roll of the dice, way beyond the control of anyone, that saw me born where I was born, and saw my consciousness come into being at the time that it did. And what do you do with knowing that – that we are nothing, that we are less than a particle of dust in the great deserts of the world. You do the only thing you can do – you live your life with all the energy and all the love that you can muster, and you live it knowing that nothing is in fact everything, and that no event or no amount of time can ever erase you from the history of the universe. And that is the same for everyone you will ever meet – and your life matters because their lives matter, and perhaps we can make things a little better, or a little bit easier in the time that we are here.