The Final Trek

Up at the crack of dawn, we all surprised each other by how poorly we slept despite the amazing hotel. We meandered over for breakfast and started to mentally prepare for the elevation onslaught. With stiff legs and some mild aches and pains we set out, shadowed by the looming mountains ahead. The theme of the day was ‘up’.  Billygoat Ben led the way.  Step by step we began to assault the ever increasing altitude. Funny enough, we also were hiking in record breaking winds (65mph), and let me tell you, there is no more interesting sensation then rounding a corner on a cliff and receiving such a powerful gust of wind that you teeter on the brink of oblivion. The sun was warm and so was the wind as we trudged onward.  The scene was a deep valley cut by a roaring glacial stream engulfed by razor sharp mountains. The actual towers were obscured from our view until the end.  To start the hike we had to back track a little bit to arrive at the trailhead. One funny moment was when we were most of the way up our first long incline and Emily turned exhausted with a red face glistening with sweat stating, “this is so hard and we’re still only back tracking”. To which I replied that we had finished the backtracking over an hour ago and we had been hiking on the trail nearly the whole time. The instant transition from agony to elation was priceless.  Higher and higher we rose. This trek had two main elevation gains, one in the beginning and one near the top. The middle section was a very pleasant walk through cool wooded areas punctuated by glacial streams. Finally we reached the last hard ascent. It was bouldering more or less; hard, windy, and cold. There was also an odd juxtaposition of blue sunny skies and being pelted with hail blown off the nearest glaciers.  Through sheer force of will; We. Made. It. 

A breathtaking front row seat to the Torres del Paine; staggering mountain peaks dotted by small glaciers all feeding into a small mystical turquoise lake.  Photos first, then we sat in silence eating our packed lunches admiring the spectacle.  An interesting surprise was that we met up with an old medical school housemate of mine, Anna at the top. We chatted and then wished them luck on their reverse trekking. After we drank in our fill we started the decent which went without a hitch other than the trains of tourists hiking up and the quadriceps stain of prolonged and steep downward hiking.  Oh and also, dad persistently grumbling, “if only i was [a half century] younger I’d easily be able to keep up with you [whippersnappers]”. Arriving at the hotel we collapsed joyously in the chairs and ordered beers and empanadas recounting tales of our adventures. 

From there we took a ride out of the park passing lama-like wild herds and salty lakes to Puerto Natalas. Ben took off from here back to the states with promises of more hikes. The five of us remained and scoured the Pueblo for food which, despite a heavy tourist industry, we found difficult as most restaurants were closed on Sundays. Finally settling on a late night pizza we ate then passed out. What a day.