Torres del Paine, Part 1

Day 1 - Towers

The day I left Puerto Natales two Germans showed up in the hostel who were also going to torres. They were both close to 7 feet tall. They were having a very serious discussion about food to take on their trip, and I was hanging out in the dorm trying to see if they'd join me for dinner. They didn't, and were a bit rude about it, but they agreed to share a taxi with me to the bus station in the morning.

I walked right into my first campsite. I set up my tent then left my big pack in the tent while I climbed up the mountain to see the towers.

When work was really hard this year, I used to Google image torres del Paine and tell myself that soon I would be there. To actually be there was surreal and emotional. The towers are breathtaking and unique, and the hike up is gorgeous on its own, but I had Googled the towers so many times I think I ruined the surprise a bit.

The park has found a way to commercialize nature. They have hotels up the mountains, and signs that say, "tired? Take a horse down to base camp. Very affordable!" Also, when the trail got rough, I had to wait in line to go up the mountain. Ridiculous. But the view at the top was perfect. It felt so good to make it up there and finally fulfill my promise to myself.

It is no wonder a bridge went down. They all looked like they'd been built by cub scouts, and they are often missing entire planks, nails, parts of railings have broken, the wood is obviously rotting, etc. Many people were crossing the rivers rather than risking the bridges.

Day 2 - A Good Day To Walk To Dickson

The next day I start the O circuit and headed to my first campsite. The hike is beautiful, but easy. I walked through daisy fields and by a Glacial Lake. You can tell when it's Glacier water because it's the color of light blue Gatorade. Very pretty.

An American couple starting at the same time as me told me they were skipping the first campsite and going straight to the second, Dickson. I mocked them when I met a guide on the trail, they were way behind me and had twice the mileage to cover. The park puts guides on the trails for safety. It's literally their job to walk the trail, ask people their names and where they're headed and always, always, "how are your knees?" The guide contradicted me. "I am also going to Dickson. It is a beautiful day today, and a good day to walk to Dickson. You are making excellent time, you could go as well." I pretended to think about it, but I knew I would also skip the first campsite.

Sure enough, I get to the first campsite by 2pm. It seemed so early to set up my tent and just hang out all day. I met a group of Chilean college boys, one of whom led the others in a series of stretches. I joined them and they shared their food with me. "don't go to Dickson," they told me. "that's crazy. Party with us tonight and we'll all walk there tomorrow. We have plenty of beer. " at the thought of having to walk with 8 Chilean boys, I thank him, but tell him I'm leaving. He tells me, half joking, "if I find you on the side of the trail, I will rescue you."

On my way out, I see that if I go all the way to Dickson, my total distance for the day will be 31 km. I have no idea how many miles this is but I know it's more than I'm supposed to do per day at my level. I walk out anyway.

Who is more foolish, the fool or the fool who follows him? Only experienced backpackers should have done this hike.

As I go over a mountain I realize the wind is picking up. Gusts knock me off my feet a few times and Tasmanian Devils pick up water from the lake and dirt from the trail and throw it in my face.

When I cross the top of the mountain I gasp. The wind is so strong on the other side it's like sticking your head out a car window while it speeds down the highway. I wait for it to subside, but it doesn't. I have to walk through it. I walk with bent knees like a sumo wrestler and squint my eyes to keep from being blown away. It's 3 miles of heavy winds, and at the end I am completely exhausted. I still have miles and miles to go.

I pass a ranger station and the ranger comes out to tell me my pace has majorly slowed, and I should camp with him that night.

"you will not make it to Dickson before dark, and after dark the mountain lions come out."

Yes, this is a good plan.

"no, I'm fine." I hear myself say.

"how are your knees?' the ranger asks, sizing me up.

They hurt.

"they're fine!" I jog a few steps and flash him a smile. He lets me go.

An hour later I regret my choice. My feet ache, my knees and shoulders ache, and I'm so tired.

I sit down on a log and ponder my fate. I could just camp anywhere, rules be damned, and hope the mountain lions aren't hungry. A woman jogs up to me. Yes, jogs.

"get back up. You're close. The campsite is just behind that hill," she says. I nod and get up, bleary-eyed. I wonder if I'm imagining her.

"you will make it. I can see it in your face. " then she jogs away.

I have no idea which hill she meant. The trail doesn't even get to any Hill for another hour. I convince myself that this is the right hill and agree to let myself cry if it's not.

She was right, the campsite is behind the hill, but not directly. It's behind a hill and around the lake, and I still had 30 minutes of walking left. I didn't cry.

I stumbled into the campsite at 9 pm. I was the last one in. I'm greeted by a bunch of backpackers on the porch of the lodge.

"did you come all the way from Las Torres?" one of them asks.

I nod, and I can tell they're impressed. The two Germans were there, Yannick and Christian. Because I skipped a campsite, I caught up with them. Christian was shocked, he kept saying, "Yannick! The little lady from the hostel is here!" Yannick gave me a high five and a small smile that told me he was impressed, but not quite as surprised.

Now in my tent, I'm alone again listening to the wind howling outside.

I woke up several times in the night to the wind violently shaking my tent. I was scared the whole thing would rip right open. Thank God for REI, my tent stayed together, but I didn't sleep as well as I'd hoped. My whole body feels like it's been beaten with a stick.Read more