OK, well, if you ever wondered what it was like to be a member of the Grizwald family, I can tell you. Take a camping trip with us, and experience it first hand.
We were off to a good start, map, gotta buy a map. So we did, AND made a plan. 75 mountainous miles in eight days...no problem for us!!! After all, we had done the Inca trail! Camping, cooking, and carrying all of our own stuff, no sweat! We actually did a pretty good job planning our meals and shopping, if we do say so ourselves. Flashforward: all we had left at the end was some dried out salami and crusty cheese. Not bad! But if I ever see another tuna casserole, I will eat my own tongue instead.
Now the harder part, the trail. It was a circuit that made it's way around the park, not to miss any of the geologically important features. The torres, the cuernos, the glaciers, and miles and miles of colorful pampa, eye candy for days! Wish we had a few more details beforehand though, as the topograph and hike times were a bit, how do you say, WRONG! But what the hell, we're young, right? Well, we made it anyway!
Day one: Refugio Los Torres
We got to the Refugio in the late afternoon. Alan took out the stove in order to cook our first sumptuous meal, and discovered (surprise!) that he was missing a vital part. This really put a damper on Lisa's spirits, who was already imagining the delicate crunch of raw pasta and gritty (non-)hot chocolate on her teeth. He managed to borrow said part from another hiker (from San Jose, no less) long enough to cook up the first meal. But we still had eight more nights to handle without a working stove. Alan walked to a nearby fancier establishment and struck up a conversation with one of their knowledgeable guides. Not surprisingly, the stove subject came up. This guide, Eduardo, said "no problem, you can borrow mine for your whole trip. Just buy fuel for it. You can get it at any Refugio, as it's what we all use to cook down here". So Alan returned to the triumphantly, stove in hand, telling Lisa all our problems were solved. Just have to get some of that fuel. He went up to the "store" and said, "fuel please". The blank stare made him realize maybe our troubles weren't over. But we had to leave the following morning, hell or high water. Right now, looking more like hell...
A flavor of what the next 8 days would have in store. Map says 4 hours each way, slight climb 1/2 way through. Reality: started out nice, wondering why everyone else is passing us on horseback. (hmmmmmmm) maybe because this day is a real ass-kicker? Well, foresight is never 20/20, and in hindsight, rather than buying a map, I should have spent my money on tiger balm and moleskin! Thankfully, this hike began and ended in the same spot, so we did not have to take our backpacks along. (more on that later). Just before we reached the Torres though, wanting to throw it all in, there is a greuling climb up a morraine that lasts about an hour. It actually began snowing on us at this point. The wind is an entirely different issue. It's enough to exfoliate the skin on your face. Or knock you off your feet. It actually did a few times....scary! What seems to be a burn from the sun, is actually windburn.
Day two: Refugio Dickson
This was to be a long, difficult day. We had decided to push on past our planned first stop, which we used to dry out from the rain, eat lunch, and ... ask for fuel (Answer: "NO!"). This would've been an easy 4 hr hike, but it was tent-camping only. Our next good target was the bonafide Refugio Dickson 12 long miles beyond. The reason: fear of crunchy pasta. They would SURELY have fuel at Dickson, and we could make a hot meal. Preview: by the time we got to Dickson, cooking on our own was out of the question. We got about an hour into the 2nd leg, which was a long and strenuous 7 hours, when Alan reached for his binoculars, attached to his... FANNY PACK!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!! IT'S NOT HERE!!!!!! I left it back at the lunch spot! We had to decide on an action plan quickly because we figured we only had about a 45 minute cushion of daylight on the far end. Plus, the Germans were on our heals. The Germans represented our arch rivals in a race to snag a precious commodity at Dickson: a BED!
So, the plan was laid: Lisa would forge ahead (ok, storm off angrily), while Alan would JOG (!) back to the lunch spot (after removing and hiding his heavy pack of course). Which reminds me - did we mention the lunch site had a nice amenity? A Scale to weigh our packs! Lisa's weighed in at about 275 lbs, and Alan's something between a Ford Pickup and the QE2. Actual numbers -- Lisa: 35 lb, Alan: 52 lb.
So, after adding a senseless 4 miles to Alan's Already Very Long Day, he picked up his pack from the bushes and continued after Lisa and the Germans. We both spent the next 6 hours hiking alone, and pretty much hating life. It was probably pretty, but the opiates have obliterated all memory of the treck. Lisa got there just before 8 (an hour early!), and Alan an hour later. Altogether, Lisa did 17 miles, and Alan "Bonehead" Peevers did 21. Whew. For the last hour before he got there, Alan was praying for three things: 1) Lisa had made the trip on her own safe and sound, 2) She'd scored dinner and a bed for us, and 3) Lisa 's temper had subsided. She was pretty close to throwing me off the mountain earlier...
All my prayers were answered. We had the biggest dinner of our lives, with like about 10 lbs of food each and about a barrel of tang-substitute each. All you could hear while we ate was a deafening slurping sound as we made all that food disappear faster than a dog in a Chinese restaurant. Life was good. Better still: they had FUEL! No Crunchy Pasta!!! We finally made it up to our luxurious beds (i.e. not a foam pad on the dirt) and spent the next 20 minutes lifting all our various body parts into the sheets amidst groans that the other folks probably misinterpreted as fun sounds.
Day three: Perros
We woke up SORE, and LATE, but managed to cook a nice oatmeal breakfast and got a good start on the next day. This was a pretty short day, but had lots of steep up and down climbing all day. The story of "the guy who forgot his fanny pack" must have traveled well, because a few minutes after we left Dickson, I went back to get Lisa's stick, and the guards were laughing their heads off wondering what the hell I'd forgotten!
I said "It's NOT ME THIS TIME!!!".
Day four: Paso
This was going to be another tough day, because we had to ascend to a high mountain pass. And it was. But oh, so beautiful. Alan had wanted to go winter camping at least once this year, and I guess you could say his wish came true, because we found ourselves trudging through snow as we climbed toward the pass, which was probably around 9000 ft. We saw gorgeous alpine scenery (snow-covered mountains, glaciers, the works) as we climbed.
We were passed during our ascent by about 30 crazy "runners", who were going to do the entire circuit in 3-4 days. They each carried nothing but camelbacks for water and some power bars and first aid. They were from all over the world and shared one thing in common, addiction to endorphins. Lisa cheered on one woman as she passed, alluding to the Boston Marathon. The woman replied "that was easy compared to this". Her expression told us she meant every word. Still, this pass was so steep, even they with their light loads were slowed to a crawl.
So we had to once again adopt the "one foot in front of the other" Zen mindset in order to make it up. When we did, we were greeted with 100 mph winds (enough to nearly blow Lisa off her feet more than once). We were also rewarded with a spectacular view of the Northern Ice Field stretched out 6000 ft below us, off to the North as far as you could see. Its sheer size was mind boggling and impossible to describe. After a short blustery break, we begain our descent to Paso. It was very steep and muddy, and at times we had to hold on to ropes that had evidently been set up to assist the runners. Thank God for them! We made camp, had dinner with those crazy Dutch and our French Canadian friends, and crashed hard.
Day five: Grey
Another long, steep descent. We finally got to Grey around 3 PM. We were kind of hurting at this point, and glad to see the hosteleria. It was overwhelmingly crowded, being the only warm space, shared by both those sleeping in it, and the many campers, like ourselves. We set up our tent on the shore of Lago Grey, at the base of Glacier Grey, which is the foot of that spectacular Ice Field. There were beautiful icebergs floating past on the lake.
Day six: Italiano
We had a much longer hike than expected this day (interrupted by a spectacular stretch along emerald green, pristine, Lago Pehoe). By the second to last hour of hiking, Lisa was getting pretty grumpy... Her feet were really starting to bother her, and she had a bad cold coming on. We pushed on and finally made camp. Everyone seemed to be asleep already, or just inside their tents staying warm (the wind was very strong), so we decided to just eat and crash. Still, it was a lovely site, nestled in the deep valley between two ice-covered mountains. We were really looking forward to our hike up that valley (the French Valley) the next morning. It's one of the highlights of the trip, they say.
Day seven: French Valley, Cuernos, Christmas Eve!
Lisa's cold was now in full bloom, and she seemed to cough about 3 times per minute. When she wasn't coughing, she was wheezing. It made hiking a bit uncomfortable, but at least the wheezing sound drowned out all the wind noise. It was a Seriously windy passage up the valley, but the views on either side were amazing. Great hanging glaciers. Huge granite masses. The Cuernos, flowers, and the gorgeous Lago Pehoe combined make this an unforgettable stretch of our hike. Go there.
We actually had reservations at Refugio Cuernos for Christmas Eve, and with all the camping and hard work we were really looking forward to it. So we hiked back down French Valley, gathered up our campsite, and headed the rest of the way with happy expectations. This was a good thing, because Lisa's feet were starting to fall off at this point. You could here the sound of her ankle cartilege being ground away at every step. OK, maybe that's an exaggeration, but she was in a lot of pain, so she finally had to change out of her boots into a pair of sneakers. That helped, but of course offered very poor support. Still, she pushed on for our long-awaited Christmas Eve meal.
The meal turned out to be a big buffet, that the kitchen staff worked on so proudly that they actually kept it hidden behind a tablecloth and "unveiled" it like a work of art. All the hungry hikers cooed their approval. You could hear the salivary glands kicking into high gear. Maybe that was just mine! It was a fantastic feast, and everyone had a wonderful evening of it. We met a nice couple from Sweden, Sebastion and Inga. Sebastian was something of a backpack fanatic and spent almost half an hour helping adjust Lisa's pack to perfection. He was evidently appalled at the poor state of calibration hers was in. Too bad we ran into him on the eve of our last day of hiking. They taught us a new card game, which we love, and continue playing to this day (it's now late January as we write this!).
Day eight: Hosteria Los Torres
Our last day on the Circuit. Merry Christmas, everyone! Being done with this hike was the best Christmas gift. We decided to splurge and stay at the "upscale" Hosteria Los Torres. It was SO not upscale. But they did have a nice spa so we treated ourselves to a massage, sauna and fresh fruit juices. Ahhhhhhh... Our bodies soaked it all in with glee. We ate at the bar and Alan's stomach decided to cause him enough pain that he became rather unpleasant company. On Christmas Day no less. So we turnded in early (and Alan, grumpy). The next morning, all was well again and we headed out of the park. All in all, it was an amazing experience and we're sure to return there again one day...
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