Torres del Paine Base
5:30am comes pretty early no matter what part of the world you are in, but there aren’t many where it means you’ve only missed the sunrise by an hour. After talking tough all yesterday afternoon, my hiking partner has decided to sit this one out to try and shake off a cold, and from the comfort of her bed, wishes me luck before rolling back over and going to sleep.
The goal today is pretty simple – after a 2 hour drive to the trail head, cover 9.8km and 880 vertical meters to the base of Torres del Paine, before turning around and doing the whole thing in reverse. There are only 5 of us plus a guide and, not having done a lot of hikes like this, I quickly check the rest of the group to see who might keep me company at the back of the line. My leading candidate is the girl from Mexico with the new pink sneakers and stylie leather backpack.
The drive covers much of the same ground as yesterday, so I don’t figure I am missing much by grabbing a nap. It makes the time pass quicker, and soon we are pulling into the parking lot of the [Hotel Torres] where the fun is set to begin. In addition to the hotel, there are a ton of tents set up just off the road, with groups of people already geared up and headed up the mountain. Where the casual tourists (like me) have made this a “spur of the moment” activity, the vast majority of people here have clearly planned for it, making reservations and bringing all of the proper gear. Not exactly a confidence booster.
The unfortunate news, at least compared to yesterday, is that the clouds have moved back in. It’s not raining (thankfully), and our guide figures that things will clear up in the 3 hours or so that it will take us to get where we are going. As you can just barely make out part of the towers from where we’re standing, I sure hope he knows what he’s talking about.
When my traveling companion signed on for this yesterday, it was largely because our guide let her know the first 90 minutes was fairly gentle, with only a bit of climbing before dropping down to a small camp along a river. Here, if she wasn’t feeling up to tackling the harder part, it was a very nice place to relax and read a book before rejoining the group on the way back down.
As the first leg up is kicking my ass, I start to wonder just what I have gotten myself into.
I also thank the hiking gods that I ended up going solo. There would be one very unhappy camper right about now. Very few people see this face and live to tell about it, and I’m not ready to tempt fate again.
Being curled up in a warm bed does mean missing out on some amazing views however, as the rest camp soon comes into sight.
Near the river there is signpost with a basic outline of how today’s hike breaks down, and I’m not sure whether to fell heartened by the fact that I’m over a third of the way up, or terrified that I have two-thirds left to go.
While pondering that question, the Canadian part of my brain decides to show up and remind me that I know metric. In the tour office, 886 meters doesn’t really sound that ominous, but it works out to 2,907, roughly the height of Snoqualmie Pass. Holy s**t! I paid $50 to walk up to Snoqualmie Pass? I’m a 46 year old man who sits behind a desk all day – what was I thinking?
Fortunately, before that has time to sink in, the guide has us back on our way. The good news is that, despite my early trepidation, pink sneakers and I are actually leading the charge, and have several opportunities along the way to capture some photos while waiting for the rest of the group to catch up.
Two and half hours in, we come to the last, and most difficult part of the journey. The final 1,000 feet are steep moraine, beyond which we can see our destination, unfortunately still shrouded in cloud cover.
It’s tiring work, the scenery is dull, and on more than one occasion I ask myself what the heck I’m doing up here. Then, just as my legs feel like they are about to give out, I come over the final group of boulders and instantly forget every painful step that brought me here. It’s beyond words how spectacular it is – something I try to capture with pictures even knowing each time the shutter clicks that I can’t.
Given the effort required to get to this point, the crowd definitely skews younger and to the more athletic side. I’m not too old to appreciate the foxes wandering around, even though they rarely stay still long enough to photograph.
We recuperate for about an hour with lunch and, as our guide assures us the water is safe, I fill my empty bottle from the lake so that I have a piece of this place to share once I get back to the hotel.
The hike back is uneventful. To my surprise, I’m the only one keeping pace with the guide and, rather than wait all the time for the stragglers, he sends me on ahead at my own pace. It makes for a very peaceful return trip, with the opportunity to just sit and enjoy places like this on my schedule.
I’m beat by the time I hit the bottom and there’s no question I’ve pushed my poor body harder today than I have in a very long time. Funny thing is, if you asked me to go again tomorrow, I’d sign up in a heartbeat.