Glaciers & Granite — Trekking in Patagonia

Posted by Paul Filby on 1/17/10 • Categorized as Chile, Treks & Travels

Back in 2002, in early December, I was two months into a round-the-world trip, and tackling the well known Torres Circuit — an eight-day trek around the Paine massif in Parque Nacional Torres del Paine. Having spent the preceding six weeks in much hotter climes (specifically, Peru and Bolivia), I was relishing the prospect of a week of challenging trekking in an area of the world that I’d been dreaming of visiting for many years.

I recently came across the diary I wrote at the time. Though blogging was pretty much mainstream by then, I’d scarcely dabbled with internet publishing, preferring to keep a limited number of folk updated with my news via regular emails.

And so, I present an illustrated account of the goings-on of Thursday December 5th, 2002, which I hope may provide some inspiration for those considering a trip to Paine, or rekindle fond memories if you’ve already been there. Three days into the seven-day circuit then, and it’s time for the highlight of the trip, as me and my four companions (Brad, Martin, Martin, and Helen) prepare to cross the Paso John Garner, and come face-to-face with the Southern Icefield.

5th December 2002 — Ice as far as the eye can see…

Quite late up this morning, a consequence no doubt of the length of yesterday’s walk. Prepared breakfast in the cooking shelter (loads of porridge — Yum!) and then packed up. I was last to be ready (again).

Leaving camp, it wasn’t long before we came across what had been described to us earlier by an American girl as an “unavoidable knee-deep bog”. She’s obviously never walked over Brown Knoll. It wasn’t particularly pleasant, but neither was it unavoidable (or knee-deep for that matter) — it did drag on for a bit though; probably an hour-and-a-half before we were totally done with the boggy stuff, and had climbed above the tree line. From here we got our first look at the route to Paso John Garner.

Scoping out Paso John Garner.

We now needed to cross the Rio Paso (unbridged). Brad attempted a dry-shod crossing at one point, and promptly filled one boot. Martin balanced across further downstream, using a wire for assistance, but the rest of us just decided to wade across. Mmmm — wet feet for the rest of the day.

Once across the river, it wasn’t long before we hit the first snow slopes leading up to Paso John Garner. This side of the pass was much easier than I’d expected, not too steep, and the snow was very soft.

Climbing towards Paso John Garner.

At the summit of the pass, we got our first view of Glacier Grey, the peaks on the far side, and part of the great Southern Patagonian Ice Field (Campo de Hielo Sur). This was all the more spectacular for having been revealed so suddenly as we crested the pass.

Looking across Glacier Grey, and right to the Southern Icefield.

Glacier Grey — a sea of crevassed ice.

I continued down the other side of the pass, stopping at an obvious shelf, where I could get a better view of the glacier. The others caught up a bit later, having stopped at the pass proper for a while. Shortly after we regrouped, a condor flew practically overhead.

A condor flying above Paso John Garner.

We then started the descent, which soon took us back below the tree line, and degenerated into a steep slither down towards the glacier.

Descending towards Glacier Grey.

This was very hard on the legs, and my left thigh really started complaining. Martin and Brad got ahead somewhat, whilst I raided Helen’s first-aid kit for some Ibuprofen cream, and my own for some painkillers. Not long after stopping to patch myself up, I came across an unopened packet of spaghetti lying on the track, which I picked up and shoved in my sac. Someone ahead had been very careless, losing part of their food supply along the way!

Once the steep section was done with, the track ambled up and down, in and out, through the forest, including numerous diversions over and around fallen trees. Eventually, we bumped into Brad, who’d stopped on the track, and he explained that Martin had gone on ahead (having dumped his sac), in order to see where the hell the camping ground had got to (we’d expected to have reached it by now — according to the map). Martin was soon back, with the news that El Paso camp was 10-minutes away, at a fast pace (this info. having been passed on by some other trekkers Martin had met along the way).

So it was that 15-minutes later we arrived at El Paso. It was a pretty rough spot (in terms of ground where you’d want to pitch a tent), but there was a cooking shelter, and a “hole-in-the ground” toilet. We managed to find a couple of barely adequate spots for the tents, and we were soon pitched and moved over to the shelter to cook (having reunited a grateful trekker with her pasta).

Turned-in quite late.