Date of Entry:  March 26th 2016

Date of Writing:  May 20th 2016,  Blue House Hostel, Sao Paulo Brazil.

The day begins with me waking to a few words being spoken outside my tent, someone trying to wake someone else up.  Truth be told I’m glad it does as one sleepy Californian is the only reason I crawled out of bed early enough to see the sky ablaze with an electric mosaics of pinks and purples, swirling once white clouds now coloured as tropical fruits hanging heavy above us. It’s quite a sight to wake up to. Thank god for sleepy Californians, don’t you think?

I use being up early and after a quick bathroom break decide to break camp without breakfast.  Let me stress this. If you’re trekking, don’t do this unless you absolutely have to.  It wasn’t a good idea.  Really.

At any rate I’m on the trail earlier than most and motor along with most people still sleeping and just a handful on the trail which leads up out of the little cuernos valley to new views of new lakes.

As the sun rises to reveal partially cloudy skies I find myself smiling through some early tummy growls, ignoring those to keep walking.  I’ve got a long way to go before I get to Torres campsite and a lot of ascent as well.  Today is going to be hard.

As I keep heading along the trail watching for the cut off for the shortcut to Chileno and Torres campsites a few other more in shape trekkers pass me, kitted out with their trekking poles which I still can’t bring myself to use.  At any rate it works out well that they pass me as it causes me to look back towards the french valley where I see something truly beautiful, the moon still blazing bright in a mostly blue sky above the stunning mountains.

After staring and watching the clouds drift over and around the moon for a few minutes I turn back around and keep going along the trail, still ignoring my hunger for some unknown reason and as I come up over a rise I am quickly greeted by another amazing sight, a arm orange morning glow falling over a picturesque river snaking down out of the mountains and emptying into a beautiful lake.

After some photos I keep walking along towards the glowing horizon and the stunning aqua marine glass like lake.  Out on some high rock outcroppings I catch the people who passed me earlier and we talk briefly about just how stunningly beautiful this place is and also take a few pictures for each other.  Seriously If you’re in Chile anytime between november-april  go to Torres Del Paine.  You won’t regret it.  Unless you hate hiking, stunning scenery and amazing light shows.  Then you might hate it.

Eventually I keep going surprised to reach the short cut (which you should absolutely take) before I expected to.   After leaving the main trail I head up and up some more across open grass lands with a few horses grazing up the mountain from me.

It’s very beautiful, but unforgiving and my legs are aching at the start of this long gradual uphill.  Soon enough I’m covered in sweat despite the crisp patagonian autumn weather and breathing hard, with no end in sight of the uphill towards my final destination, the lake at the base of the torres.

I’ll say this,  I’m glad I didn’t start my hike with this climb.  Not just because my body would have objected, but doing it with a full pack load of 6 days worth of food would not have been any fun at all.  Still I’m proud of how I do, because while I’m exhausted and hurting quite a bit, it’s not to the level of thinking about turning back.  Still this walk overall is turning out to be a bit more taxing than I’d imagined and it’s a good thing I bothered to get into something approaching decent shape before coming to Patagonia.

As I join the main path up for those just doing a day walk to the Torres or starting there trek at the other end of the W I stumble out to a stunning viewpoint of a majestic valley, a rushing river running through it.  I’ve seen pictures of it before from when my brother and Clara hiked to the lake and back in a single day, but they don’t capture it.  The view is majestic.  An eagle soars nearby, only adding to the scene.

I wind down into the valley, facing one last uphill before the final descent to campo chileno, though their camping section is all but closed.  Still I’m glad for a place to rest, charge my camera battery a bit more and even indulge in an expensive but hearty and delicious steak sandwich, especially once I add some peanut butter to the mixture. (Seriously snickers and peanut butter are both amazing trekking treats)

I’m eventually forced to recover my camera battery from the sockets inside as a friendly and sadly all too domesticated fox appears and I snap some pictures. It’s still a wild animal but very used to tourists breaking the rules and feeding it, and so hangs out around here.

After a brief break spent speaking french and eating I pull mypack back onto my shoulders and hurry along towards the Torres Campsite which is still over 4 km away.  Luckily this part of the trail is a bit easier and much flatter winding through impressively green forests speckled with rushing glacial streams and lots of pretty beginning of fall colours.  Seriously for torres Del Paine I don’t know if there’s a better time than late march/early april.  Sure it’s colder but there’s often more clear days, less rain, and lots of impressive fall colours.

Emerging out of the forest I am thrilled to find I’ve reached my final destination and with time to spare since it’s ony around 4 in the afternoon.  I head into Las Torres campsite, which is also free and run by Conaf, and am warmly welcomed by the park ranger who takes my details and tells me to set up camp anywhere.  It’s cloudy but the clouds are high so I’m feeling very tempted to try to head up to the lake this afternoon as well as tomorrow, though I’m unsure of the wisdom of this plan given how much my legs are hurting.

I set up my tent and spend a half hour drifting between sleep and wakefulness before deciding that I have to try, in the hopes that If I go now in less than stellar weather, then tomorrow morning I’ll get good weather for the sunrise.

I’m exhausted but I start the absurdly steep but mercifully short climb up towards the lake, the sun now sinking low behind the clouds.  I force myself to keep moving though it’s a struggle as the trail is immensely steep and never seems to stop going up.  I make it though, it takes me about an hour, but I make it. Here’s some shots from the climb.  And believe me, I was glad the uphill was over, although on this rare occasion the downhill is almost as hard, because it’s just so steep.

As I cross the final little section of the trail cutting around one final rocky hilltop a fox appears on the boulders ahead of me, moving with impressive grace and agility so quickly that at first at least it’s impossible to catch the little and much wilder scamp on camera.  It takes until I get around and get my first views of the lake to find the little sneak again and get some photos, so here they are the first shots of the lake and the fox who distracted me for a good long while.

I’m late heading up so by the time I get there there is only a handful of eager eyes left to take in this incredible turquoise lake with the imposing triplets of stone looming behind it.  Photos truly can’t capture just how big those towers are.  but they are.  One of the friendly hikers takes some photos of me quickly before I wander over the big boulder field in search of different angles to try to capture the impossible beauty of this place.

A little bird joins me as I take a break sitting on a rock, resting my tired legs and just losing myself in this place.  Patagonia is one of my favourite regions in the world I’ve seen, and this place is a gem of patagonia.  It is constantly making me wonder just how it could exist, which is a sign that I’m in love.

I get up eventually and head over to the far edge of the easily accessible rocks meeting a few other guys who’ve joined me up there including Taro who snaps some photos of me and even agrees to the classic paint me jack that I know everyone has been waiting for. (I’m honestly not sure If I’m being sarcastic or not). People seem to enjoy it though as it’s quite cold and everyone is snapping pictures and laughing at the crazy Canadian.  Jeez I wonder what they would have done if I bothered swimming, something I regret not doing.

Eventually it’s getting late and I didn’t bring my sleeping bag so it’s time to head down.  The rain beginning to fall only makes my decision easier as there’s not much shelter up there and spending a night without proper preparations would be pretty crazy and also against park rules.  I head down, eat a quick dinner and chat with some friendly people around our little cookstove fires before falling into my tent and drifting off to sleep.  It’s an early start tomorrow, and I hope the skies will be clear.