The W Trail

We hiked a trail called the "W". We left from Pudeto (bottom left) and ended in Hostel de Torres (top right). We were 8 days hiking. 85 kilometers.

TO GLACIER GREY
Along a long glacial lake for 11km; It was to our left. Ice drifted along the shore. Everyone carried big packs. And when we arrived at our camp we were tired. We stayed in a lodge that night. It was surrounded by delicate trees and small transparent icebergs.

We had smuggled cheese, salami, sardines, and wine into Chile. You would think that this is a lite comment, but they actually had checked our tire compartment and everything when we crossed, they were serious! Fortunately for us, we were not serious and they never checked our purses. We snacked well. It was the last good eating for a while.


TO CAMPO ITALIANO
The thunder we heard in our campsite was actually avalanches from the peaks surrounding. We camped under a short tree canopy that barely protected us from the howling winds that swept through the Valle Frances.

At night we read from torches strapped to our heads. I was reading this ridiculously thick somewhat bad fiction and had the pleasure of tearing out the pages as i went. Books are typically sacrosanct with me, but on a 8 day hike- everything must remain useful. I thought of burning socks, but Hisako would not let me.


TO CAMPO BRITANICO
The hike up the Valle Frances must be one of the most magnificent day hikes in the world. Up and up, you climb pass a rushing river, over boulders; to your left a massive peak constantly sheds snow in impressive waterfalls of snow. Through brilliant green Patagonian forest you climb until reaching a crest you step onto a very slight dome of granite. The trees, unable to take hold in this stone surface give you a 360 panorama of a new vista. One that surpasses all yet on the climb, for you now stand in a huge bowl of green rimmed with tall rounded peaks all the way around.

The climb up the bowl past Camp Britanico is straight up. Its not quite rock climbing, but its best to have all four limbs touching the ground. After the trees thin out, big clumps of tundra moss- a panoply of greens coat the slope. Tundra eventually gives way to loose mounds of sharp rocks.

The view is large and strange. The mountains are not like mountains. They have this concrete plasticity- parabolic slopes, rounded peaks. Truly strange outcropping teeming with character and personality- it must be amazing to stand on top of these things...

But the best i can do is climb what i can climb. There is only one other couple i see. As they go down they say i am the last one up here and to be careful going up or down. I am way past the last lookout. I take in a long moment.


TO REFUGIO CUERNOS
Everyday held new surprises. After the monumentality of the ring of peaks above Britanico, this cloudy misty day and low green hills beyond was subdued. A light rain turned up the contrast on all the black and white pebbles disappearing into the silty white/blue glacial lake. The subdued turned sublime when we stopped to soak all of this in. The place had this Zen like-no-mindedness about it- a mandala consciousness, the widest range of consciousnesses. In the distance low clouds were moving quickly out of the Valle Frances and dissipating in animate forms over the lake. A saucer, a dragon clawing...

There is a bit by Herman Hesse that takes hold, "The surrender to nature's irrational, strangely confused formations produces in us a feeling of inner harmony with the forces responsible for these phenomena...the boundaries separating us from nature begin to quiver and dissolve...we are unable to decide whether the images on our retina are the result of impressions coming from without or from within...we discover to what extent we are creative, to what extent our soul partakes of the constant creation of the world."

We stayed there for an hour. I skipped rocks, Hisako was picking little rocks and matching them with larger rocks of the same pattern- an experiment in camouflage. The lake was entrancing not only to us. A group of Australians threw down their packs stripped down and jumped in. You should have heard them howl!

There were many river crossings, but the hike was mellow. We talked about what our business should be when we return back to Los Angeles. We joked that we were on a business retreat. The refugio at Cuernos was very nice and many people were there. We sat in the cabin drinking wine and reading, watching the chef make homemade bread. The dinner was delicious and we went to bed very satisfied. The night was strange and ominous, however, with massive wind gusts rushing through the valley. We could hear the wind as it came rolling through the valley like a runaway bus sweeping through clumbs of trees with great ripping sounds getting louder and louder until it hit the tent. Everything shook violently. We slept in fits.


TO LAS TORRES
The last leg of our hike ended with the park's big attraction- the spiring granite Torres (Towers). Our campsite was in a pasture, but the setting was beautiful and the sun shined on us. A day hike up to the torres was mostly a scramble over boulders and talis piles. The vertical hike was pretty substantial, but the reward was magnificent. I hung out on a rock projecting into the small lake at the base of the tower, laid down and just looked at those massive rocks. Wondering who in their right minds would climb that thing. Of course it was an Italian who summited first in 1963.

We have a lot of time on our hands since the hiking is over. We lay on the grass and hang out in our tent thankful for such an amazing journey.


DRIVE BACK TO EL CALAFATE
Since Miho drove the rental car back, we have to take a bus back into Argentina. We did not really tell them where to pick us up, so we were very curious to know if we would have a ride. It worked out. One bus took us to the border and another picked us up. Its a weird crossroads.