Date of Entry: March 24th 2016
Date of Writing: May 18th 2016, Blue House Hostel, Sao Paulo Brazil
I wake up early today. Not trekking early, but fairly early at just after 7:30 am. The sky is bluer than yesterday, the winds that rocked my tent on my first night camping have disappeared in the night and I feel almost ready for day 3 of my 6 day hike. I have a quick cold breakfast inside the tent and then set to breaking camp, which takes me less time than I expect and I’m on the trail by just after 8 am. the light on the mountains at the campsite and throughout the day are a definite highlight though, and before I take down my tent I snap a few pictures.
Today’s walk takes me back along the trail I walked on my first day and then over from the ferry terminal across towards my first free campsite of the trek, Campo Italiano. It’s almost 20 km and with the big bag back on my shoulders as I head out It’s sounding like a very long day. Still as I hike back up out of Refugio Grey alongside the Glacial waters of Lago Grey I find myself looking away from the lake to the sun breaking over the mountains on my left, mountains I barely even noticed on my tired walk here.
The bag is lighter with two full days of food gone but it’s still heavy, and as the sun comes up the whipping winds come back with even more force,taking some slighter of frame hikers up off their feet and depositing them on the ground not too far away in certain wind tunnels on the trail. I’m lucky I’m a big guy and even then small sections of the walk are proving tough for me not to fall over as the powerful bursts of wind twist and pull me in all sorts of directions.
As I keep trudging along, doing my best to stretch out my back and shoulders and ignore some flaring pain in my feet as I walk I can’t help but be captured by the incredible scenery all around me. The sky is clearing more and more, and distant mountains beyond Lago grey shine under still more rainbows, which are beginning to seem like a common occurrence here.
My feet getting heavy and my water bottle refilled at a path side stream (all the water here is glacial, potable and delicious) I get back to Lago Sarmiento, the first lake from my first day. Today the winds are rougher though causing little bursts of mist to lift up off the deep blue surface of the lake, the suns rays creating always moving path rainbows all over. It’s shockingly beautiful and pictures just don’t seem to capture what it was really like.
The path continues downwards from the lake back towards the catamaran ferry where I began my trip and as I pass through a narrow valley between two hills the wind starts to die down. The electric blue of the lake ahead calls me on despite tiered feet and I manage to make it to Paine Grande refuge, where I sit down at a small ranger station and have some lunch using the last of my flatbread raps, salami and cheese, which has lasted longer than I expected it to.
When I see the catamaran crossing the lake bringing a whole new batch of trekkers though I pack up my blue dry day bag and load up again, taking off down the trail I walked last year alongside my father, my brother and Clara. On that day reflections we;re everywhere, today with the intense winds picking up again it’s a very different experience. There is one positive though, I was so exhausted when I stopped for lunch, but seem to have found a second wind and take the first few kilometers of this 8 km second leg of the trail very quickly, music carrying me on.
As I get closer to the several small blue lakes along this trail I’m sad to see no reflections but thrilled by more misty rainbows on the lakes choppy surface. Even without the reflections though the mountains looming all around me are stunningly beautiful. The trail is easy and there’s lots of streams to refill water and quickly enough I come to the point where me and my dad stopped last year. I can’t help but be a little thrilled as last year I was somewhat tired here, without the big pack, and now, while tired I’ve added 12 kilometers to the day and still feel better. Being in shape pays off, I really need to remember that.
Despite feeling good as I continue along heading up toward Italiano campsite my legs are starting to tire. The last few kilometers of the trail seem to take quite a bit longer than they should and I’m pretty thrilled to stumble out towards a rushing river which is alongside the campsite. The river is beyond beautiful, rapids carrying glacial water down through the park and out of the french valley which will be the majority of tomorrows hike. I allow myself a short break beside the river, shedding my bag and relaxing on the riverside rocks.
I eventually head up river a little bit having lost the trail and needing to cut through some undergrowth to rejoin it before finding another small hanging bridge which leads to Campo Italiano on the other side of the river. 20 km done, and I’m damn well exhausted, but I make myself set up my tent and everything right away in a grove of trees.
There I take a little break lying down and stretching out my legs as best I can in the tent before heading down to the river to refill my water bottle and get some cooking water, it’s more pasta with hot sauce tonight. I was just planning to get some water but the views of the french valley down here at the edge of it near dusk are truly stunning, though sadly the light does not lend itself to photography all that effectively. Still I do my best.
We find a phone in the water down by the river which still somehow works and I make myself go around to all the little cooking stoves until I find who it belongs to. I have to admit I kind of need a phone and even felt a mild temptation to keep it, but travellers don’t do that to other travellers, and it’s part of what I love so much about this community. I eat my dinner with an italian- argentinean couple and again share my hot sauce before heading towards my tent to get ready for bed around 9 pm. First though comes a need every human experience,s, the need to poop, and I’ve heard the drop toilets at this free campsite (just need to register on arrival in march or advance in Puerto Natales in peak season) are really horrible. The stories have been exaggerated though and as I’m sure you’re all wandering I enjoy a pleasant if smelly pooping experience before heading back to my tent, donning my compression stocking, stretching out aching legs and heading to sleep again.
