perito moreno glacier
Yet another border crossing took us to leafy El Calafate in Argentina, the nearest town to the mesmerising Perito Moreno Glacier. The face or ‘terminus’ of this massive glacier is 5kms long, reaching about eight stories high above the lake below. One of only three advancing glaciers in Patagonia, it is a spectacular sight to see enormous chunks of ice, larger than a house, ‘calf’ into the lake below.
We were dropped here in the morning and wondered just how on earth to fill in five hours staring at a wall of ice, yet by the time we had to go we weren’t even remotely ready. This was one of those agape in the face of nature experiences – from the vastness of the scale of this advancing, frozen river to the intenseness of the blues of the glacier, your eyes would dance over every crevice and get drawn into the inching, anticipatory drama of it all.
perito moreno glacier
perito moreno glacier
Apart from strolling the leafy main street and kicking back in cruisy cafes with whiskey-laced coffee, there’s not a lot else to do in El Calafate, so we head off the next day to El Chaltén, about three hours north and the jumping point for the Monte Fitz Roy mountain range.
When we arrived in El Chaltén everything was clouded over, with only the briefest fleeting glimpse of the imposing Monte Fitz Roy that looms over this small, sprawling town. But after spending the day stocking up on a mishmash of edibility from the well-raided stories, we set off for the mountains, greeted with some of the most sensational weather Patagonia has deigned to offer. A crisp, sunny day saw us take off for Piedras Blancas Glacier, a relatively straightforward stroll. We set up camp by the river then wound our way around the lake, stomping over the moraine until perched high over the glacier. The view back down the valley was superb, gazing over a rippled lake hosting icebergs drifting away from the glacier from which they have recently escaped.
piedras blancas glacier
home sweet home
metamorphosis
Heading back to town the next day we stocked up again, grabbing what random items the tiny supermarket still had in stock and enjoying a good night’s rest. The next day we struck out for Monte Fitz Roy itself. These bold granite towers strike up near vertically for the sky, dominating the landscape. Our campsite at Poincenot was about an hour below the lake that sits at the base of the towers, but the steep trek was amply rewarded with an up-close look at these awesome natural wonders.
en route to monte fitz roy
monte fitz roy
The next day, despite crisp blue skies rendering it appealing enough to the eye, was the most difficult walking we have ever done. The plan was to head all the way down the main valley and up into a side valley, trekking to a lake sitting right on the edge of the ice-field, but the howling Patagonian wind had other ideas. The relentless gale literally lifted each of us off our feet at one time or another and made the simplest tasks seem Herculean. Rock-hopping river crossings became fraught with the likelihood of being picked up and dropped in the icy water, streaming straight off the nearby glacier. Every fought-for step was an invitation to give up and turn around.
purrdy but brisk
After battling along one slow step at a time, unable to hear what anybody was saying even if they were directly alongside, we finally reached a stretch of the valley that offered if not shelter at least a slight diminution in the ferocity of the 100km/h+ winds.
While not necessarily what we would have chosen for the day, it did make our eventual warm welcome at Refugio Los Troncos at the top of the side-valley all the sweeter. With a crackling fire and warm company, it was the perfect reward for a gruelling day that more than once almost saw us turn back.
eventime
The next morning Serena and Ben headed further up the valley to a large glacier-fed lake, Sally somewhat sensibly conserving her energy and soaking up some sun over a book in the charming green surrounds. We eventually set off again for the campsite we had stayed in earlier, with one more trip back up to the Monte Fitz Roy lakes the next morning before heading back to town on the fourth day, weary but all agreeing it was definitely the trek of Patagonia thus far.
monte fitz roy
At this time of year the single daily bus out of town fills up days ahead. We had managed to book our ticket back to El Calafate on the day we arrived in town and thought nothing more of it, so were a tad bemused to hop on the bus and find that our tickets for seats 45 and 46 were not going to be all that useful on a bus with only 44 seats. The next available bus wasn’t going to leave for a number of days, so it was a certain relief to find that two other passengers hadn’t turned up by the time the bus was ready to roll.
Arriving back in El Calafate meant it was time to make an all-too-soon farewell to Sally. We’re not entirely sure what she thought of the five weeks spent with the hobos overall, but suspect that on balance there were just enough high points in there to just pip the low points. She seems to be talking to us again, so we’ll run with that assumption.
On the last day of our Fitz Roy trek, Serena had discovered she could hardly move her right shoulder. The situation didn’t improve at all in El Calafate, but we decided to press on with the only plan that made sense to our perhaps diminished sensible-meters – heading back to Puerto Natales, loading up our packs with all our gear and enough food for 10 days and striking out for the full Torres Del Paine Grand Circuit.
