We hopped an early morning bus from Erratic Rock II @ 7:30. It picked us up right after a great breakfast that was included with our hostel stay. We stashed a few things at Erratic Rock II in their free, locked storage unit. The bus ride was beautiful as we neared the park. The towers came into view; I've never seen anything like it. The jagged peaks soared into the air, piercing the clouds hi above. We arrived at Laguna Amarga, checked in at the ranger station, and began hiking at 10:15 am. Park Entrance fee was $15,000 CH per person, which comes to about $30 USD each. We skipped the shuttle ride from the headquarters to the trailhead, and were glad we did. We hiked along the road for a kilometer or so and then too the right-hand trail heading north on the east side of the towers. We met Alex, a dutchman who has never camped before! He seems quite capable, though, and we expect to trek with him for the whole circuit, at least camping in the same spots.
Camp Seron emerged from beyond the burned landscape (not sure when the burn happened) at 3:00 pm. The 15km hike took us just under 5 hours...incredible headwind for most of the journey. Alex, Courtney and I, shortly after arriving to the wind-worn hut that served as base for Camp Seron, began setting up our tents. Our tent-pole, the main stay, snapped. Our hearts sunk for several minutes as we contemplated options: turn around and rent a tent back in town, use our fly as a cover, somehow repair the pole? Alex happened to have a tent-pole repair brace from his rental tent, so we are using that for now. Good thing the guy with NO experience was prepared.
We share the area with a local Gaucho. I wish I spoke better Spanish - enough to gain wisdom from him anyways. Dinner was mac 'n cheese from home, couscous with veggies, chocolate, and Tang drink. (Lunch, by the way, was wraps with cheese & salami, trail mix, and bars). Cost at Seron to pitch a tent was $4000 CH ($8 USD) per person.
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| The view of Torres del Paine |
We paid our entrance into the park, which was actually pretty expensive at $30 USD or $15,000 CH per person, shouldered our packs, looked back once more at the park headquarters station, and said goodbye to civilization for a while. The trail begins on a dirt road that is possible to skip by paying for a shuttle. We opted out of the paid shuttle so that we could take in our surroundings and breath the fresh air for a while. Courtney, and I and a few other European folks we met on the bus, all began together. There is a branch-off trail about half a mile up the dirt road that meanders away to the right of the road. It was quite pleasant, well marked, and allowed us to look out over grasslands that eventually gave way to the mountain ranges of southern Patagonia. 
We hiked through a recently burned out forest that was just beginning to show signs of new vegetation pushing up through the ashes. The trail meandered through rolling foothills. We breathed deep and long, allowing the new and foreign smells to enter our lungs and purge us of the stale airplane air we had been inhaling for days. Eventually we crossed into private land and walked past herds of cattle and an occasional group of lamas (actually, I think they are called "guanacos", a relative to the lama and alpaca). The streams and rivers flowed seemingly on all sides. There was water everywhere. The glacier run-off had a particular look and texture it, it even tasted different. Amazing, actually. It was almost pastel in color, gray/green, beautiful. There was no need to treat the water here; the land was perfectly pristine. We rarely hiked with full water bottles, but instead, shaved weight from our packs by hiking with near-empty bottles and taking sips at every river crossing. 
After about 4.5 hours of hiking that afternoon, we caught up to Alex and hiked alongside him the rest of the way to camp. Alex was a friendly Dutchman, traveling in South America for his 3 month vacation. Europeans know how to vacation! He told us that he had never camped before (!) and figured this was as good of a place as any to learn. He assured us, however, that he hikes all over Holland, and felt prepared for the trip. He rented all of his gear, from his pack to his tent to his stove, and hit the trail. Turned out that he was very competent and a quick learner. We arrived at Camp Seron after about 5 hours of hiking. The map you receive upon paying your park entrance fee is fairly accurate at time estimation. The maps show distances and approximate times, and our hiking times matched theirs nearly spot on, nearly every time. So, if you are wanting to calculate times and distances, the park map is a great resource. Camp Seron was comprised of tent spots, all on soft grass, and a small shanty where you could buy a hot meal if you wanted. The hut was run by a man who shared the area with a Guacho, a South American "cowboy". We watched him handle his horses, working as a team with his trusted dogs. It was beautiful to watch. Time felt as if it had slowed down, and that we had entered a different age.
Setting up our tent turned out to be quite the experience. We have set it up many many times before this trip, we knew what we were doing. As I pulled a clip that was attached to the body of the tent towards the pole, a hard gust of wind swept through our little meadow. In an instant, it grabbed the tent body and snapped the pole like a twig. We stood there, shocked, and speechless. A broken pole on a trip like this means several things. It means the trip could be over. It means we would be sleeping under the stars...or in the rain. It means we had no shelter. For a few minutes, we literally just stared at the pole, trying to erase what just happened with sheer will-power. But the pole remained broken. Next, we freaked out. All of the planning, the travel, the money it took to get to where we were! We had covered all of our bases...except this one. Since we had bought the tent used a while back, and had used it many times since, I didn't think to check if it came with the simple metal tube used to temporarily "fix" a broken pole. These metal sleeves simply slide up the pole to the broken section and act as a brace, and they are essential to have in windy conditions. We had no such piece. After we freaked out, we went into fix mode. I tried tape. Courtney looked for anything sturdy enough to splint our fractured pole. Nothing. So, we walked through the camping area and asked our fellow hikers if they had any ideas or anything to fix it. Everyone was so helpful, so friendly. We got to know all of our hiking friends that night, a total of 7 people who we would spend the next week with on the trail. Alex, the inexperienced but capable dutchman, ran to his pack yelling back that he had just the thing. "Is this what you need? It came with my rental tent." He emerged from digging in his pack holding a 4 inch long, shiny, metal sleeve. It was a tent pole repair brace, worth more than gold in our present situation. I have never been so relieved. In an instant, our trip had been saved, or it at least became more comfortable and convenient than it would have been had we not been given the sleeve. I pleaded with Alex to take the part back if we ever parted ways. I knew that for the next few days we would be camping at the same areas. In the north section of the park, campsites are few and far between. So, even if we weren't actually hiking together, we would at least be camping together. But, I told him he must take the fix-it part back if he ever decided to hike farther than us. I hated the thought of his pole breaking somewhere along the trail, while we stayed comfortable with his pole repair. He promised. Our tent was saved for the time-being.
We lounged around on the lawn for hours, searching for the perfect spot to avoid the wind that incessantly cut through our camp. Our mac 'n cheese with couscous tasted great, but the smells coming from inside the cabin of grilled steak and fresh sautéed vegetables detracted from the greatness of our meal! We had planned on purchasing a meal or two while on the trail, but because of some ATM difficulties, we hit the trail with much less money than we had planned. We had enough to pay for our campsites and to buy a beer or some wine at a couple refugios along the way, but not enough for meals. Camp Seron cost $4000 CH per person, NOT per tent. Keep this in mind if you plan on doing this trek. You will need some cash. We slept soundly that night, sheltered from the wind, though every once in a while a gust would slice through camp and bend our tent nearly to the ground. We had finally arrived, and we were free.
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