Rain, Snow, and a Group of Chilean High School Girls

martin Wyświetlono: 647 razy 2003-11-11 22:32:51

Ocena:3.00 (10 głosów)

At the southern tip of Chile, Martin sets out to trek the Torres del Paine Circuit and learns, the hard way, why Patagonia is notorious for some of the worst weather in the world.
“The pass is closed.” We stare in disbelief at the park ranger. “Too many snows this year,” he explains in broken English as we exchange nervous glances, “it is not possible to make the Paine Circuit.”

Rahul and I are devastated. For the last four days, we’d been on a ferryboat crowded with cattle, freight containers and a few adventurous backpackers, traveling 1500km down the desolate coast of southern Chile to trek the Paine Circuit. In the dimly lit interior of the ferry, we’d huddled over contour maps of the park and planned every minute detail of the trek. We’d read the guidebook cover-to-cover, researched each campsite, discussed our food supplies, and reviewed our equipment. Everything was perfect. We were ready.

And now this. It’s impossible to complete the 100km Paine Circuit without crossing the John Gardner pass and the pass is snowbound. Defeated and deflated, we roam the streets of Puerto Natales, looking for a place to share our misery with other trekkers.

The contradictory reports slowly begin to filter in. A Canadian couple has heard from an Australian trekker that two Germans made it across the pass a few days ago. “No, no, no. It is definitely closed,” warns a dour French hiker. But a Norwegian climber just met a Dutch guy who had crossed the pass. Someone else mentions the two Germans. A mountain guide, who has just returned from the park, encourages us to go for it. “You can always turn back,” he adds with a taunting smile.

“Well, why not?” we agree, against our better judgment.

——————

The snow-capped granite spires of the Torres del Paine reach into the sky, forming a mountainous cathedral on the distant horizon that rises to dizzying proportions as we approach the park. Our bus follows a dusty, winding track through the windswept steppes of southern Patagonia. It’s a three-hour trip from Puerto Natales into the park. We arrive in the early evening as a light drizzle begins to fall.

By the time we set up our camp at the foot of the Torres, the sky fades into night and stars begin to appear through windows in the clouds. The Patagonian sky is vast, forbidding, wild, and grows more intriguing with the harsh, gray light of the rising moon. A rain cloud passes overhead. As the raindrops catch the light of the moon, a faint lunar rainbow appears across the night sky.

Tonight, we’re sharing our campsite with a lively group of Peace Corps volunteers from Bolivia. To celebrate our first night in the park, we mix a bottle of pisco and cola, a popular local drink. The bottle circulates around the campfire as we share stories, travel tales, and reminisce about the simple comforts of home. “Hay fiesta?” A group of drunken Chilean high school girls stumbles over from the next campsite.

Strona: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

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