Hiking Patagonia, Part 4 of 4, French Valley and the End of the World

Highlights of the French Valley hike were the half dozen avalanches we witnessed.  Each began with the sound like a squadron of jet plane engines roaring off the mountain.  Then the cloud of cascading snow came billowing out of the clouds, which shrouded the higher glaciers on Paine Grande.  We finally did get a full view of this greatest mountain in the park before the day ended.  Read on.

My last day in Torres Del Paine National Park started out with rain and gray skies.  I had rearranged my schedule in order to stay an extra day and do this last significant hike, to the French Valley lookout beside the massive Paine Grande peak.  Forecast was for the weather to improve, and thankfully it did.

The hike begins with an hour ferry ride the length of Lago Pehoe to Paine Grande Refugio, a major campground and lodge that is not accessible by overland vehicles.  Everybody huddled in their vehicles at the Ferry terminal rather than waiting in line at the boat ramp, in order to stay out of the wind and rain.  But by the time we arrived at the Refugio, as you can see below, the weather had improved.

The challenge of this hike is less about the elevation change and more about the need for speed--to get there and back in time to get in line (the boat has room for 100) for the last afternoon ferry ride at 6PM.

The first part of that challenge is that the ferry doesn't arrive at the Refugio until 10AM.  Then off we marched - me, guide Nino and a 40-something American couple named Sara and Paul.

The first part of the hike undulates along the slopes beside picturesque Lago Skottsberg.

To the right is the lake, with views of the Cuernos beyond (I had close up views of Los Cuernos peaks on my previous hike, see part 3) and to the left the great mountain and most of its glaciers were shrouded in cloud, out of which pour a number of cascades.

The next delay came once we actually reached French Valley.  We had to wait in line at the suspension bridge across the French River in order to get across to the Italian Camp, a busy hiker campground.  People were lined up to cross both ways and the strict rule is that only one person is allowed on the bridge at a time.

From Italian Camp the French Valley trail climbs several hundred feet to the panoramic viewpoint of the glaciers up on the grand peak,

with views of the valley between Paine Grande and Los Cuernos, of the Cuernos themselves, and of Lago Nordenskjold and the landscape behind us down the valley.

The clouds continued to lift over Paine Grande as we returned to Italian Camp.  Better yet, there were no lines waiting to cross the footbridge so I could stop in the middle of the bridge and take a photo of the French River and the mountain slopes and glaciers beyond.

Checking the clock at that point, it was clear that we had to make time.  Five miles back to the ferry landing with two hours to get there.  I took the lead because I have a natural pace that would get us there on time, and Paul and Sara were troopers, keeping up that pace, even when I stepped it up another notch.  Nino, of course, was just strolling along in back.

The boat was coming up the arm of the lake as we came up over a rise and into view of the Refugio, so we were able to get in line in time.  As we waited in line, the Grand mountain finally revealed herself.

A fitting end to the day and to my Patagonia adventure.

Next it was on to 'Fin del Mundo' - the self-proclaimed 'End of the World' at the town of Ushuaia, Argentina.  Plans were to continue my travels, but it was in Ushuaia that I got the news of my Mother's sudden illness.  I had an afternoon and the next morning here.  I started by walking from the airport to the motel.

This is a town that embraces outdoor adventure despite the famously brutal Cape Horn climate.  Fall had arrived with snow in the mountains, but the denizens were unfazed.

Tourists were lined up to get photo-ops at the town's iconic visitor sign, but I managed to get this shot when one celebrating group left and before the next one assembled in front of the sign.

Many are here for Penguin tours, for Antarctic Cruises, and for various hikes and treks.  There were a couple of cruise ships anchored in the harbor, but one or two others that didn't look like they were going anywhere anytime soon.

Finally the next morning, as I had an early breakfast at my motel's penthouse dining room, I was treated to one of the most vivid sunrises I've seen anywhere.

Then it was two days on airplanes to get back to family.  I had a chance to say a loving good-bye to Mom and to fulfill her request to trim my beard to a length she thinks is more befitting a PhD scientist, and then to recalibrate my life.

Next it's back to the domestic trails, to resume my oft-delayed quest to hike to every place I've ever lived.  Reports will begin soon.

Hiking Patagonia, Part Three - Lake Sarmiento and Los Cuernos in a Hurricane

The highlight of the day was this ridiculously windy afternoon hike to Mirador Cuernos (Viewpoint of the 'Horns').  Here's a look at them from the trail.  The light colored rock is a granite magma intrusion that lifted these peaks above the surrounding landscape about 12 million years ago.

This was the windiest hike I ever did.  Here's a short video clip taken at the waterfall we stopped at along the way, simply called 'Salto Grande', the Big Jump, which pretty well captures the 'atmosphere'.  It was hard to stand.

In the morning it was nearly calm.  Go figure.  That's when I headed out from the motel after breakfast to do a seven mile meander around the south shore of Lake Sarmiento--a lake with no outlet.  It is filled by the rain and snow melt and loses its water entirely by evaporation.  The lake level is gradually dropping so there were some interesting sights along the shore.

Back at the hotel I captured this shot of the Towers of Paine from my room.  World class view, right from my bed.

After lunch it was off to the short hike to the Cuernos viewpoint.  This was an hour drive each way, but then just a four mile stroll.  It would have been a walk in the park except for that wind, which was literally picking the water up out of the lake in the background of the photo below and raining it down on us half a mile away.

The area had experienced a massive burn in 2011.  Every tree in the park over an area of 40,000 acres, had burned when a camper/tourist decided to put a lighter to his toilet paper rather than bury it.  This one lonely tree on the shore of a lake escaped the carnage.

Here's the actual view of the Cuernos from the viewpoint at the end of the trail.

What a relief to be back in the van after the incessant assault on the senses.  Wind is probably the thing about being outdoors that I dislike the most.  Better yet, was the pleasure of my warm bed in my calm room, watching the sunset over Lake Sarmiento with the Towers of Paine in the background.

This report has been long delayed because real life has intervened.  My dear mother, age 96 has left us.  In the last report, Part Four, I document the last hike I took before I got the news, and my quick stopover at the 'End of the World.'

Hiking Patagonia, Part Two, the Base of the Towers

The destination--the base of the triple peaks of Torres del Paine (pronounced "pie-nay").  The name translates to 'The blue Towers' via a combination of Spanish and the native language of the indigenous Tehuelche people.  (That's the Spanish name for them.  They called themselves the Aónikenk.).  When I got here it was raining and windy and miserable and the peaks were hidden in cloud.  The hike up had been under cloudy skies with cold rain that was mixed at times with sleet.  I was resigned to the fact that I had been dealt a bad day to do this bucket-list hike.  I turned around and started back down, but then noted a small patch of blue sky off to my left ...

People who hike only one day in the Southern Hemisphere are most likely to do this hike.  It's a well-trampled trail and was very crowded on the Saturday that I was there.  It's moderately difficult - almost 13 miles round-trip from the trailhead parking area (complete with gift shop and restaurant), with 2500 feet of elevation gain, most of which happens in the last few miles.  Having hiked only level beach hikes for months I found that my climbing muscles had seriously atrophied.  This hike turned out to be nearly all I could handle.  Worst of all, the weather was not cooperating.

Our group, two American couples along with me and our guide Javier, were on the trail before 8AM.  On the lower slopes, under cloudy skies, we had views back to the lowlands to the south, with the showy Fire Bush putting on its display.

Fire bush is a favorite sweet nibble for the horses, so they are more commonly seen at a distance from the trail.

We ascended about 600 feet up to Windy Pass, where we could see the route ahead leading back down to the Refugio in the woods beside the noisy Ascencio River.

The Refugio, a back-country pit stop, comes complete with picnic tables, a store, restrooms, and plenty of campsites.  It was there that the rain started in earnest.  We continued up the river valley through the forest of Antarctic beeches of three species.  Here and there we caught a few splashes of the upcoming fall color, which would be in its full glory in about three weeks.

The climb began as we turned left, leaving the river.

Our group was splitting up, with one couple ahead of me and one behind with Javier.  As I approached the viewpoint the faster pair, Sam and rail-thin Lorrie, passed me, heading back down.  They said it was too miserable up there and there was not much to see so they were retreating to the woods to have their lunch.  I headed on up and recruited a stranger to take a few snapshots of me with what little view there was,

then I too headed back down.

I didn't get far before I noted the patch of blue sky off to my left.  I thought to myself "I'll never get here again, why hurry away?" so I turned around and headed back up, arriving just as the clouds parted.

Or as much so as they ever do here.

I wandered around taking photos, then spotted Javier with the couple from San Francisco.

Sam and Lorrie soon returned too, and we all had lunch together beside the lake and I got my moment in the sun.

On the way down the trail was so crowded that it felt like rush-hour on a DC freeway.  We were cued up waiting to get through narrow spots.  But the scenery was gorgeous, now that the sun had won out over the storm clouds.

The beech trees here have a semi-parasitic free-loader known as Chinese Lantern.  Similar to mistletoe, it photosynthesizes its own sugars but relies on the host tree for its supply of water.

The scenery had opened up beneath the blue sky.

But as afternoon rolled on and we returned to the valley, crossed the suspension bridge over the Ascencio River, it was getting cloudy again.

Back in the parking lot we rested and had a snack and were joined by a beggar, a young crested Coracora, which is a common local scavenger and predator, second only to the Black Breasted Eagles and the mighty Condors.

I was bushed, but very satisfied with the day as we made the 45 minute drive back to the hotel.  Next day my thigh muscles were sore.  What a softie I have turned into.  But I could relax and recover later.  There were more hikes to do.  Stay tuned.

Hiking Patagonia's Torres del Paine, Part One

Darwin's Rheas, locally known as ñandu, grazing on Patagonian Steppe with Paine Grande wreathed in cloud behind.

If you're going to hike in the Southern Hemisphere, the mountains of southern Chile have to top the list of destinations.  It's a hiker's mecca.  And arguably at its very epicenter is Torres Del Paine National Park.

I didn't come to Patagonia specifically to hike, but how could I *not* take the time to explore this bucket list destination.

This report covers my grueling three-day journey to get to Torres del Paine - five flights followed by a four hour drive - and the a glorious afternoon hike from my motel, the Tierra Patagonia, down along the shores of Lake Sarmiento.

As usual my photos, with captions, will tell most of the story.  It began with a final sunrise from my Topsail Island, NC condo, with a prophetic glimpse of a high-flying jet, no doubt headed to some exotic international destination of its own.

First leg took me to Charlotte, then the second leg presented some interesting scenery, as I had a window seat.  First we passed over an old hiking venue of mine--the Overseas Heritage Trail through the Florida Keys.

Marathon Key with the Seven Mile Bridge in the background. 

Then, passing another string of coral keys east of the Isle of Youth, Cuba, I captured this view, complete with what we meteorologists call 'cloud streets' because of the resemblance to city streets lined with buildings.

Finally we arrived at Costa Rica, where they were at the end of their dry season.  The hills approaching San Jose looked pretty parched.

My flight schedule, tailored to save a few bucks, gave me eleven hours in the San Jose airport and a chance to watch a nice sunset.

Then it was on to Bogota Columbia via a pre-dawn 'red-eye' flight.  After a quick layover in Bogota, I was on to Santiago, Chile where I got a hotel for the night near the airport.  Here's a view of a hillside neighborhood as seen from my sixth floor hotel room.

2AM wake-up call, 5AM flight from Santiago to Punta Arenas.  I was flying over the glacier-covered mountains and melt-water-fed lakes that I was here to hike.

At Punta Arenas my driver, Camillo, an avid photographer, picked me up and we headed out across the flats of Patagonia.

I was the only passenger, so Camillo and I stopped many times as he introduced me to the indigenous wildlife.  The drive felt more like a wildlife safari than a tedious commute.  Here's the ubiquitous Guanaco, wild relative to the domesticated llama.

Next was a good close-up view of a Darwin's Rhea or ñandu, as it is called locally.

Then … who knew there were Flamingos in Patagonia.  Wind was nearly calm in this normally windy place so we lingered here and got lots of great shots.

Camillo captured some good shots of a Black-breasted Buzzard Eagle, but my shots with my little point-and-shoot camera didn't come out too good.  As we approached the hotel, we stopped for the headline photo with the Rheas grazing with the mountains behind.

The wind was almost dead calm as I checked in to the hotel.  I got this shot from the dining area and lounge as I was talking with Basilio, coordinator of the hikes and excursions.

He said the lake is almost never this glass-smooth.  Maybe twice a year.  So I hurried to dump my stuff in my room, changed, and then headed down the trail through the 'backyard' and down to the lake.

I did a quick six and a half miles along the lake shore and adjacent bluffs, then back to the hotel.  It's an award winning architectural masterpiece, and a bucket-list destination all by itself.

And every room has this view.

Stunning.  This was sunset on my first day in Patagonia.

Next day, my first full day, I had scheduled the iconic bucket list hike to the base of the towers--the Torres del Paine--namesake of the park.  That report is next.  Stay tuned.