Day 10
The staff at the privately run Los Cuernos Refugio has prepared a lunch for us to pack. It is last night’s cottage pie in a sandwich. Pretty darn good.
Today is the big, big day. 29 kilometers. I put the camera in the duffel bag for the porters who will not make the trek up, but hug the lake for a shorter run. Porters run. Gabriel offers & I accept. He carries my lunch. We leave the lush Refugio by 8:30 after a delicious breakfast in perfect weather conditions.
We will hike to the Italian Camp and decide from there on the weather. This is also a possible turning point for any of us who feel ready to turn back. Later, when I get to this junction , I don’t stop to think. I just keep on going straight on up. At the end of the day, there are several others who chose not to climb up.
Roberto has not been to the top all summer. He is in the lead with the first four of the group chomping at the bit to go faster. Juliette is very fast. Eric, a contractor, about 40 something, is incredibly fast and his wife, Ester, treks right along all week until her stomach acts up. Todd is from Chicago. He and his daughter Julie are always at the front of the bunch. Julie is on the off season from her work in the Tetons National Park as a nature ranger. It is Lena who always takes the head to the line. Her pack is most prepared with moleskin, water, snacks and other essentials. Her watch clocks the pace of steps and the distance. She treks at over 3.5 kilometers per hour.
I am at the back of the pack. Dead last and working hard. Along with me are Michael, Eric and Pamela. We swap stories about our trips, our poodles, our homes. Gabriel has enormous grace on the rocks, hopping ahead if he thinks he can be helpful…holding back to take pictures since he is assigned this role at the end of the line….as we slowly plod along.
The snack time view is absolutely breathtaking. I have never seen so many mountain peaks at the same time. Roberto says are you ready to climb? I call out – “More Mountains?” Can there be more?
By the time I get to the very top it is yes, even more spectacular. The clouds dance around leaving plenty of views of the Cuernos/Horns are on one side, the Bariloche range on the other, then the middle section of mountains include the Towers and the Twins and the Cathedral and the Shark Fin. The wind is very strong. I sit on my own rock enjoying my sandwich and twisting a bit one way, then the other.
We don’t talk very much. Other groups are here too – scattered all over the rocks.
There is an odd moment after stopping. After keeping a destination in mind for so long, that feeling comes around that awakens the urge: it is time to go. I think I will stay for hours to soak up the experience, but instead, I hop up with the rest of the group to move along. Because it is basically unliveable up here!
But I will never forget the French Valley of the Torres del Paine range.
The downhill is a scramble of loose rocks for an 800 meter descent – in reverse obviously – of what we just did. The views are completely different, as is the pounding on the body.
At Italiano Camp, many back packers are settling in for a windy night. Somehow they will heat some food on a gas stove – carefully avoiding the risky business of a fire. Two years ago, a third of the park burned. after the fire, these foxgloves moved in – beautiful & invasive.
We will walk through acres and acres of the recovering landscape where new growth includes invasive grasses, dandelions, foxglove and other beautiful flowers. This terrain is uneven and challenging – up and down.
The last 2.5 kms are relatively flat, rolling hills with low lake views of the Grey glacier.
Oh my, oh my. It is one long way. My feet walk for so long, they have their own personality down there. I make up my mind that I am going to make good time and start to push the pace a bit. It all feels the same and I get there sooner!
I am so glad to be free of the blisters that are plaguing the others. Gabriel calls me a goat. I get a hug from Roberto.
I finally see this structure in a field. It is a huge 2 story wooden hotel looking place. It is run by the Argentine park service. I keep walking towards it forever.
How did it get in the middle of nowhere – here
It is Refugio Paine Grande – 7.5 kilometers from the Italiano Camp.
The early arrivals were kind enough to leave me a lower bunk. It would have been a one way trip after all that hiking. In any case, when I finally arrived, I dropped onto the mattress and closed my eyes for several minutes to recover feeling the blood recirculate through my body, feeling the momentum slow down. I drag myself into some warm water in one open shower stall. The dinner is practically over by the time I straggle in near 9 pm. I eat less now and don’t feel my appetite!
Tonight, the men have a harder time in their bunk room than the women. Their door won’t shut and the bar crowd at the Refugio rocks on for half the night. I sleep through all of it.
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