Argentine Patagonia - Fitz Roy Area

I’ve just returned from a 9-day backpacking in the northern part of Parque Nacional los Glaciares. I took a bus from El Calafate to El Chalten, the “national trekking capital” of Argentina. El Chalten is a small town established in 1985 to help solidify Argentina’s claim to the area. The border between Argentina and Chile roughly follows the high peak of the Andes, but in a few places it is not very well defined and is the subject of a fairly mild dispute. The town is really nothing but a launching point for exploring the northern parts of the park. Many of the highlights of the park are within day-hike range of town, so people are in town preparing for or returning from for trips of all lengths and difficulties, from easy hikes to serious climbing expeditions.

I got into town late in the evening, pitched my tent in a campground in town, then got up and started to shop for my first backpacking trip in South America. This normally would not be a bit deal--I have backpacking food down to a science, in the US at least. But there’s no Pasta-Roni, and no Kraft Mac-n-Cheese down here! Of all the things I’ve been worrying about in planning this whole South America excursion, backpacking food has been near the top of my list. But fortunately I found reasonable substitutes for most of my backpacking staples. I never did find peanut butter, which is somewhat tragic. (I saw someone at a campsite with peanut butter and I asked him where he found it. He brought it from Canada.) Another thing I couldn’t find was anything like a power bar or a Clif bar. So I struggled to get enough quick snacks. But somehow I managed.

Anyway, enough about food! I got a late start on my first day, but my hike was short--just 2 hours to a campground near Laguna Torre. This is a very popular national park, and, in order to protect the park, backpackers are required to stay in designated campsites. They can get a bit crowded, but they’re not bad. Most importantly, the ones I stayed in are sheltered from the wind.

About the wind... People come to Patagonia seeking many things, and everyone will take away something different. But one thing every visitor will remember is the wind. I may have felt gusts as strong as I felt, but never have I felt a wind that strong and that constant. One time my backpack, which was about half full at the time, started to blow away. I hear the wind is even stronger in Chile, which is where I’m heading next.

View from camp. It’s a bit cloudy here, so you can’t see a whole lot. But it's a little teaser of what's to come.

Most people who do multi-day trips in this part of the park spend a couple nights at a time at the various campgrounds. This allows for side trips, and, perhaps more importantly, it allows one to wait for good weather, which is often hard to come by down here. I stayed out a few days longer than planned because I was waiting for good weather. The hikes here are all about the views, and on many days the views just aren’t there.

I spent two nights at Laguna Torre. The first full day I did a little exploring, but didn’t see too much because it was very cloudy. After my second night in camp, the skies cleared and I finally got to see what everyone comes here for:

The view across Laguna Torre toward Cerro Torre.

I could take pictures of this thing all day, so here are a few more.

This panorama is the view from the lookout near Cesare Maestri base camp for his attempts to climb Cerro Torre. In 1959, when Cerro Torre had yet to be climbed, he claimed to have reached the summit. However, his climbing partner was swept to his death by an avalanche on the way down. And of course his partner was carrying their camera with the photos that would prove they reached the summit. Many mountaineers were quite skeptical of the story. Eleven years later, an undisputed first ascent of the spire was still up for grabs, so Cesare Maestri tried again. This time, though, he hauled a gasoline-powered air compressor up the route and drilled holes and placed hundreds of bolts to aid in his ascent, sparking a huge controversy among climbers. (Bolts placed with the aid of battery-powered drills are now fairly common in some areas; however, they are often controversial, especially in remote areas. Climbers love to argue about bolting ethics, and opinions vary widely. But I think nearly all would agree that dragging an air compressor up Cerro Torre is a bit much.)

Even with this extra horsepower, he did not quite reach the top, as he was thwarted by the peak’s cap of “mushroom” ice. The compressor remains near the top of the route. The peak was finally reached by a group of Italian climbers in 1974.

This peak and the others in the area continue to draw climbers. At my level of climbing I’m not sure I’m allowed to even dream about things like Cerro Torre. The climbs are long and difficult, and involve long approach hikes, usually across glaciers. As I’ve mentioned, the weather around the mountains is pretty fierce. Up on the rock formations, it is downright mean. A few months ago I talked to a climber who spent a summer down here a year or two ago. In the four months he was down here, he only got to climb four days. Yet, for the truly dedicated climbers, the draw must be irresistible, for the climber I talked to is back this summer for more.

Here’s a little fox I saw near the lake.

After hiking around the lake a bit, I started the hike to my next camp. The first part of the hike involved backtracking. The two pictures below were taken from about the same location. The first was taken on my hike in, and the second on my hike out.

A a couple more shots toward Cerro Torre. Why not?

Laguna Hija

My first view of the Fitz Roy, near Laguna Madre and Laguna Hija. Fitz Roy is named after Robert FitzRoy, captain of Charles Darwin’s ship The Beagle which sailed around Patagonia. Captain FitzRoy was also interested in the origins of man and conducted his own research during his travels. Despite his closeness with Darwin, he reached very different conclusions. He believed in a literal reading of the Bible, and believed that the fossils he found proved that the great flood in the time of Noah occurred. Further, he believed that the native inhabitants of Patagonia were descended from “civilized” people who regressed as they wandered away from civilization.

Anyway, enough of that. Here's another picture!

My next campsite was Camp Poincenot. I spent almost an entire day in my tent sitting out a day of cold rain and terrible visibility. (A good book is essential for the long rainy days around camp. I recommend Bruce Chatwin’s In Patagonia, a collection of stories about some of the interesting characters who have called Patagonia home.) The next morning I got up at 4:30 to make the hike up to Laguna de los Tres for sunrise. The sky was perfectly clear as I hiked up, but right before sunrise some clouds rolled in and obscured the view of the Fitz Roy.

Still a cool picture, but just think how nice it would be if it were clearer!

A bird hanging around the Poincenot camp. I don't know my birds at all. Perhaps someone out there can identify this guy. [Edit: My good friend and noted ornithologist, uhh, I mean promising young bankruptcy lawyer Charles has identified this as a caracara. Thanks Charles!]

After two nights at Poincenot, I packed up to head to Piedra del Fraile.

A view of Laguna Piedras Blancas, a quick side trip from the main trail.

Leaving the national park and heading onto private property. (Not a bad piece of land to own.) (Little sidebar: the dollar sign "$" is used for Argentine pesos here, which can lead to some confusion. My first peso-based transaction was to withdraw cash from an ATM. I couldn't believe that they would charge $11.49 for a withdrawal. But that's pesos, so it works out to about $3. If a price is in US dollars, they usually use the symbol U$S.)

This is the Refugio Piedra del Fraile or “Priest’s Rock”, named after a rather unimpressive mound that was a favorite prayer spot of Father De Agostini, an Italian missionary and mountaineer. A tent pitched behind the cabin would be home for the next few days. I planned to stay one or two nights there, but I ended up staying four because I was waiting for good weather.

Guillermo and Christine, the caretakers of the Refugio.

Puma, age 10 weeks, who does nothing but lounge by the wood stove.

I met up with a couple of climbers who were planning a trip to the Marconi Pass, which leads out onto the Continental Ice Cap. It's a long day trek, with most of the time spent on glaciers. They invited me to come along. So after a few days of lounging around the refugio waiting for good weather, we headed to the ice.

Looking back into the valley toward Lago Electrico.

Looking back across the Marconi Glacier towards Fitz Roy. (This is one of my favorite pictures I've ever taken.)

And looking forward to my companions Philippe and Mathieu toward the vast nothingness that is the ice cap. The ice cap, which is about 250 miles long and between 30 and 80 miles wide, has been described as a “white hell” by some mountaineers who tried a north-to-south traverse of the cap. Their attempt was stopped by the bitter cold and fierce wind. We were there on a nice day in the middle of the summer here, yet it snowed a bit while we were up there. This is definitely not a place I'd want to be in a storm.

We had good weather again the next day, so Mathieu and I made the hike up to Paso del Cuarado.

The hike to Paso del Cuarado starts at the refugio and heads straight uphill. This is a view across the valley of the glacier we were on yesterday.

View of the Fitz Roy group from a small climbers’ camp part way up. The top of the Fitz Roy is covered in an unusually high amount of snow for this time of year.

Mathieu starting on the ice. Most of the trip is just hiking, but the last bit is on ice. I know it's done without crampons but I'm glad I had them.

Views from the pass:

A view of the valley as we headed back down the ice.

Looking at the valley during the descent.

After that I went back to my campsite at the Refugio for one more night. The following day I hiked back to El Chalten, spent a day cleaning myself and my stuff up a bit, then took a bus to El Calafate, where I am now.

A parting shot of the Rio Electrico on the hike out.

Next stop, Chile!

Thanks for reading! Stay classy. :)

Argentina! (Part 1 of ?)

As I mentioned last time I posted, I'm in Argentina. I landed in Buenos Aires on Wednesday Jan. 13 after a long but uneventful trip with long layovers in Miami and Lima. There are, of course, more direct ways to get here; but that was the cheapest.

I stayed at a hostel in Buenos Aires. They used to call these places youth hostels, but they've dropped the "youth" part in more recent years. They're geared toward those traveling on the cheap, so they tend to attract mostly folks a fewer years younger than me. But I wasn't even close to the oldest person there. In addition to being cheap, they are great places to meet people. The one I stayed at had a wonderful rooftop terrace. I met people from several continents while hanging out up there, drinking 1 liter bottles of Quilmes, the official cheap beer of travelers in Argentina.

I had always heard that evenings start late in South America. This is certainly true in Buenos Aires. On a few night we showed up at restaurants after midnight and had to wait for a table. I don't know if bars ever close.

I spent a few of my days wandering somewhat aimlessly around the city, taking in the sights. One of the top tourist attractions of the city is the cemetery in the wealthy neighborhood of La Recoleta. This is where the rich and famous of Buenos Aires are buried. Below are a bunch of pictures I took around the cemetery.

For foreigners, and perhaps Argentinians as well, the most famous person buried in the cemetery is Eva "Evita" Peron. The cemetery was about to close and I had not yet found her tomb. I figured it would be easy to find. This was probably based on my visit to another of the world's famous cemeteries--Pere LaChaise in Paris. For Americans, the cemetery's most well-known tomb is, sadly enough, that of Jim Morrison. (Don't get me started on Jim Morrison--everyone needs to have at truly hate at least one band, and my band of choice is The Doors...) His tomb is quite easy to find--just follow the graffiti. Fortunately, this cemetery has very little graffiti, and none indicating where Evita is buried. The cemetery was about to close when I approached an older man and asked him, with my thick accent, "Disculpe, senor, donde esta la tumba de Eva Peron?" Evidently I got the point across, because his face lit up and he told me to follow him. On our way the guards told us it was closing time, but he pleaded with them to let me see her tomb. They resisted but eventually relented. While walking to the tomb, the man went on and on in Spanish, oblivious to the fact that I understood maybe one in five words he spoke. All I could tell is that he liked Evita. We had a quick glance at the tomb before the guards, who had followed us the whole way, insisted that it was time to go.

After five days in Buenos Aires, I boarded a plane for El Calafate, in Patagonia. The airport in El Calafate, which is less than 10 years old, has made southern Patagonia much more accessible. One of the guide books I've consulted says that just 10 years ago, the trip from Buenos Aires to El Calafate was "an authentic adventure." Now it's a quick and cheap flight. I checked into a hostel here and went for a walk to see the town.

Just outside the hostel I saw this truck. Note the print on the back of the tank. In case you can't read it, it says "Peligro Explosive." Hopefully that's just a remnant from the truck's former job...

El Calafate is a small town on the Patagonian steppe, about an hour's drive from the Andes. Since its airport opened it's become quite the tourist trap. Its main street is several blocks of restaurants and shops selling clothes, local crafts, souvenirs and all the stuff you would expect. It's crammed with hundreds of people speaking many languages and dozens of seemingly well-fed and astonishingly well-behaved stray dogs.

The next day I took a day-trip into Parque Nacional los Glaciares. I signed up with a tour operator to take a simple hike on the Perito Moreno glacier. The Perito Moreno glacier is one of the world's largest and one of the few that is not retreating. We drove out to the park and hiked around for a bit, taking in the glacier from terra firma. Unfortunately the day started off rather dreary--cold, windy and wet. (This will likely be a theme in Patagonia--you don't come here for the weather.)

My first view of the glacier, through the bus window.

The park has an area with boardwalks that lead down to the glacier. This is the view from the upper observation deck.

And from the lower observation deck. One fascinating thing about this glacier is that from time to time it advances over Lago Argentina. You can see that the lake has tunneled through the glacier in the pictures above. Every several years, the glacier will advance over the lake and act as a dam. Water will build up on one side, and eventually the water pressure will cause the dam to rupture. This only happens once a decade or so, and is impossible to predict, but I'm told that the lucky few visitors who see it are in for quite a show.

Next we took a boat across the lake to get right up to the glacier.

We hiked along the side of the glacier for about an hour before donning our crampons and getting out on the ice.

Once on the ice we moved pretty quickly, so I didn't stop for as many pictures as I would have liked. But I got a few good ones.

One of our guides checking out a cave. It went back several feet then narrowed into a small blue hole.
While the rest of the people in the group were taking their turns looking in the cave, I talked the guides into letting me borrow a couple of ice tools and climbing around a bit. It's my first ice climb (and my first ice free solo!). I, of course, didn't go very far, but it was fun to climb around a little bit on this wall.

Peering down a deep hole.

Looking across the ice toward some small waterfalls.

We also found a short tunnel through the ice. Most of the group took a pass on crawling through the tunnel, but I had to give it a try.

Disappearing into the tunnel.

And coming out the other end! The tunnel was just wide enough to squeeze through, and went for about 20 feet or so before opening up into this hole. The slight stream of near-freezing water in the bottom the tunnel was a bit uncomfortable, but it was still worth it.

Another member of my group getting some help climbing out of the hole.

After a few hours on the ice, we headed back to solid ground and hiked back to the boat. Here are a few pictures from the hike down. You'll notice that it has stopped raining and the sun has come out!






Back on the boat, where we all toasted with whisky on glacial ice.
Some interesting rock formations as seen from the boat.

That's all for now. I'm about to head to El Chalten, a smaller town right in the mountains, where I'll be heading out for a few nights of backpacking. I'm really looking forward to some time without a roof above my head!

As always, thanks for reading!