day 2, Seron to Dickson...

11/12/11
The most beautiful and wild and huge hike I have ever been on.  We got up at 6:30, had an OK breakfast of oatmeal with walnuts and fruit.  Not all that good actually, the oatmeal we picked up in Puerto Natales is pretty tasteless.  Left camp Seron at 8:45.  Hiked on and up a small but REALLY windy pass.  Put our full weight into it.  Lunch overlooking an enormous glacier that, according to the map, is still a dwarf in comparison to Glacier Grey.  Lunch was peanut butter tortillas and snacks.  We hiked on.  


After many more incredible views and vistas we made it to camp Dickson at 2:45 pm.  Cost $3500 CH per person (about $7 USD per).  Set up camp.  Ate dinner of dehydrated chicken enchiladas we brought from home.  Delicious!  Our friend Will caught up to us that night at about 9:00 pm, just before it got dark.  Had a great time hearing his stories of travel.  We drank Gato wine into the night as the rain came on.  Some rain as I write now; all in all an amazing day.


I wrote in my journal this morning, just before we began hiking, "The wind, like ocean waves on the not-so-distant shores that act as bookends to the waning Andes, remains constant."  It was so powerful to be influenced and affected by such a strong force of nature.  At every turn, with every step, the wind dictated our movements, causing us to make tiny (and sometimes not-so-tiny) adjustments in our strides and body angles.  Places I had been in the United States, like the Wind River Range, known for intense winds, paled in comparison to what we experienced in Southern Patagonia.

We left camp at what we thought to be fairly early, but realized quickly that our campmates had already set off.  Let me share just a bit about our fellow travelers.  First, there was Alex, who I have already written about.  Alex, the savior of our tent.  Alex, the inexperienced Dutchman who hiked fast and seemingly with ease.  Then, there was Yen and Corrine.  They were a couple from Belgium, I believe.  In their 50's (I think...), they dominated the trail and relished every bit of adventure.  Mariella and her friend whose name we never did get, we'll call her Natalie, were two fiesty, middle-aged women from Switzerland.  They travelled in style, calling ahead to each camp to reserve comfy beds in the refugios along the way, or to request that a tent be set-up and waiting for them upon their arrival.  Mariella didn't carry a tent and hardly any food; she ate the delicious-smelling food at the refugios the entire trip.  With enough cash, this trip can be quite luxurious.  She made it happen.  There were two or three others that we saw every now and again along the trail or at camp at the end of the day.  We really came to enjoy the company of our small band of hikers.

Eventually, we caught up to everyone and we all gathered at the base of a substantial pass.  The trail shot up quickly, without the luxury of switchbacks to take the edge off of the incline.  Sometimes, I actually prefer it this way.  No meandering, no wasting time; just getting to the top and getting to the views.  About half way up, we felt the full force of the wind that had blasted through our camp the previous night.  Up here, unencumbered by trees and miles of empty space that dilutes wind's full strength, we were hit hard with gusts that I can only speculate as to their speed.  Several times it knocked us off the trail, or into each other.  It was such a rush!  We all re-grouped and took on the final meters of the pass, up into the wind.  At the top, we yelled at the top of our lungs with excitement.  We were heard by no one.  We all laughed, and in that moment it seemed that the five of us had been destined to experience this together.  All of our paths converged right then, and nothing else mattered.

Courtney and I began hiking again, passing the rest of our crew and advancing down the trail fairly rapidly.  As much fun as the wind had been, we were ready to find escape.  We descended back down into the forest, skirting along a rolling ridge-line that overlooked an expanse of grey/green glacier run-off that sliced through the valley floor far below us.

We stopped for lunch in a small clearing just off the trail and watched clouds pass over ominous peaks that towered above rippling glaciers.  It was surreal, and yet at the same time we knew there was no where else that we should have been right then.  We were well rested after lunch, and we shouldered our packs for another few hours of hiking.  Here on day two, our hips were sore from the weight of our packs, but we were beginning to find a rhythm.

The trail rolled on, up and down and around, until we reached an enormous bog.  There was no way around it, and we had read about this bog, so we trudged through it, stepping as lightly as we could.  We emerged out the other side muddy and wet, but happy and eager to reach camp.  We saw one more rise that we believed was our last climb of the day, hoping that at the top we would be able to see our camp.  This is a dangerous hope, as any of you with trekking experience know, that can leave you sorely disappointed and discouraged when camp is no where to be seen.  Fortunately for us, when we made it to the top of the outcropping, we looked down on Camp Dickson, and what a sight it was.

The Refugio/bunk house sat nestled near the shoreline of frozen lake.  Emerging behind the lake, and feeding into it, sat a glacier of epic proportions.  It soared into the sky, dominating the landscape.  I had never seen anything like it, yet from looking at the maps we knew that it was tiny in comparison to Glacier Grey that we would encounter in the following days.

We scrambled down a steep, loose scree field to the pleasant camp scene below.  As we walked up, a friendly Guacho approached with open arms and a big smile.  "Welcome.  Welcome," he said over and over.  He showed us around the camp-ground, and pointed out the beautiful tent sites.  The sun was shining, and the green, soft grass felt amazing on our tired feet.  Courtney had some blisters that were beginning to take over her entire heels, and the relief on her face when she took her boots off was contagious.  And I instantly felt better too.

Included in our camp fee was a hot shower and access to a small store that sold candy, beer, wine, and crackers.  It was kind of funny.  Here we were in the middle of nowhere Patagonia, sitting with our feet up after a shower, enjoying a glass of wine, and looking out over one of the most magnificent scenes I had ever seen.  Every once in a while, we would simply look over at each other and laugh in disbelief that we were actually there.

We enjoyed the beautiful weather while it lasted.  Eventually, later that evening, it began to drizzle.  It didn't let up for a couple of days.  That night, in the dripping rain, our friend Will caught up to us.  Will had been studying abroad in Montevideo, Uruguay, and when he found out from his girlfriend back in the states (a good friend of Courtney's) that we would be back-packing in Torres del Paine, he was quick to join us!  We were happy to spend some time on the trail with him, and when he finally walked into camp that night, we were relieved to not have to leave in search for him.  We knew he was on his way, but had no idea where he was.  He had left from the Ranger Station early that morning in hopes of finding us.  He had hiked quite a way, and was very happy to be at camp, as I'm sure you can imagine.  We sat with him as he regaled us with tales of his own journey over the ground we had just covered.  He would be hiking with us for the next few days, so our small group of travelers grew by one that night.  

After another glass of wine, we crawled into our tent to the lullaby of the soft, feathery rain.  We were ready for the next day.