Patagonia II: Part VII
A return to the Perito Moreno glacier.
It’s the last full day of our trip and our last early morning departure. We meet in the hallway between our hotel rooms and walk together to the dining room, located in a restaurant across the street, for breakfast and to pick up our sack lunches.
We drive along the same road west, past the ranch where we rode horses the day before, and into the park. It’s my second time visiting the glacier. I had come to Argentinian Patagonia the year before, spending a week in El Calafate and El Chalten. I had considered crossing the border then into Torres del Paine, but didn’t have the time. Looking back on the past week I’m glad I broke the trip up in two. It offered me the opportunity to return to El Calafate and introduce the glacier to my cousin and niece.
We arrive with plenty of time to catch our ferry to the opposite shore. At the ticketing office a man checks my name off a list and tells me which catamaran we are to board and from which pier. There are few cars in the parking lot and no large tourist buses. I am surprised, given my previous experience, but also happy that it’s so calm. I eye the grey clouds that have gathered over the glacier and wonder if it’ll rain. It did the last time I had come; the overcast skies dulling the light, saving me from snow blindness.
Once we have set off from the shore, the crew allow us to venture onto the upper decks. The crossing is much as I remembered. We pass icebergs big and small as we sail across the lake. As we near the glacier, the catamaran slows to allow us all to take photos before it speeds up for the last leg of the journey.
We alight and are lead up to cabins where we are encouraged to store our things. We’ll take lunch after our hike.
Once situated we’re broken up into smaller groups and lead towards the glacier. It’s a short hike during which our guide pauses at a plaque to show us the region and talk about the glaciers and the weather that causes them.
Before donning our crampons he also leads us to a crevasse we can walk into. Inside, the icy walls radiate a vibrant blue.
We’re given helmets and lead to huts so that crampons can be put over our shoes. The guide demonstrates how to walk in them, planting our feet and making sure not to put ourselves in positions where we might roll our ankles. Satisfied with our abilities, he leads us onto the ice for our hike.
Along the way we see other guides carving paths through the ice, setting and resetting railings. The ice is always changing and so is the path. Now and again we hear their chainsaws bite into the surface.
As we hike I grab bits of ice to suck on. At one point we come across a small pool of water and I take my gloves off so I can cup it to my lips. It’s clear and cold and quenching.
At one point the guide stops to point out an Andiperla, an insect that lives on the glacier. They’ve adapted so well that to hold one in your hand would kill it from the excessive heat transfer from your body.
As we near the end of our hike we’re lead to a small clearing where a table has been set up. The guide chips ice from the glacier and fills glasses with it, pouring a finger of whiskey in afterwards. My niece tries it but isn’t a fan.
We walk back along a forest path on a boardwalk that still looks new. Back at the cabins we eat our lunch outside on the porch. The sun is out and so warm that I can take my jacket off as we enjoy our meal.
We have some time after lunch before the catamaran is to take us back to the parking lot and so we climb the rocks near the dock to admire the view. I can’t stop staring at the glacier and the mountains that loom behind it. The morning clouds have cleared and we have a perfect view of the peaks.
From the parking lot we drive further into the park, leaving our car at the lot for the boardwalks. A bus takes us up the mountain and leaves us where the tourist bus had left me when I was here the year before. We take our time, walking to various vantage points to look out over the ice.
We follow the boardwalk along the lake, headed back towards the parking lot. I had been curious where the boardwalk led the last time I had visited and I was happy to be able to follow it to the end and to admire the glacier and the lake from afar.
Driving back, I take photos through the window. It’s our last excursion and the last view we’ll take in before flying out tomorrow—my niece and cousin back to the states, myself back to Buenos Aires. I feel thankful that I’ve been able to return and happy that I’ve been able to share it with my family. It’s made the trip three thousand times better. In the back of my mind, I’m already trying to find the time to return.
20 March 2023
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