Patagonia: Chapter six
Three days around El Chalten with Juan, day 3.
Since arriving, I haven’t seen any of the famous peaks; nature has had other plans. That said it’s been amazing being in Patagonia and hiking the trails.
This morning Juan meets me at 08:00. I have a box of alfajores for his children and tell him not to forget it. I leave it with Melba at the front desk. We are to take a car north, outside the city and the park to a trailhead from which we will hike back to town past the mirador Glacier Piedras Blancas and Lake Capri. The hike could include a climb to Laguna de los Tres, but Juan was skeptical. Flurries are already falling in town and the skies are cloudy. The weather report calls for wind gusts up to 25 knots per hour and he doesn’t think being out on an exposed summit is a great idea.
We share a car with a Belgian couple looking to do the same hike. The wife and Juan speak in French about the town and guiding and how many guides there are in town (about 100).
They ask about the Laguna de los Tres and Juan tells them it’ll be shrouded in clouds. The husband says that the forecast for the afternoon was clear and he had seen how the weather could clear up on YouTube. He asks what app Juan uses to check conditions. It’s the same he uses but Juan points out that you needed to set the location to the trail position. The weather in town can be drastically different from the weather in the valley.
As we drive out of the park Juan tells me that the town is expanding in this direction as there was no more land to be had in Chalten. A luxury hotel has already been built in the area. You can get property for relatively cheap here, but the road is still gravel and there are no amenities. No electricity and no water.
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The car drops us off at the the trailhead and we start off ahead of the Belgians. The trail we take is new, a shortcut to the new main trail that had been blazed after the original trail had been shut down by the hotel property. They no longer want people hiking through their garden.
At one point Juan turns around. The Belgians are nowhere to be seen. I ask if we should wait and Juan says no. The wife had said her husband is a mountain guide. We’ll see, he says.
We walk across the plains, crossing streams before we make it to the main trail, blazed with wooden posts marked in red. Juan turns back and says he thinks the Belgians have taken the long way around. We hike on.
The sun threatens to peek through the clouds and the mountains around us reveal themselves to us. We hike into the woods and thirty minutes later we look into the valley to see snow being blown through it. We are sheltered by the forest. Juan mentions the Belgians. They didn’t believe him when he said that the viewpoint probably wouldn’t be worth it. We soldier on.
As we approach the top, a woodpecker flies out of the forest to our right. She stands for a bit before hopping around a tree stump, pecking at the bark. Further on Juan excitedly points out yellow orchids growing up the side of the hill. They flower for two weeks before drying out and he is happy to have been able to show me. Just for you he says. Later, as we pass another guide he tells him about the orchids and the woodpecker so that he can show his guests.
We stop for lunch when we reach the saddle. From the view point we can see the glacier in the distance, the ice glowing under what light can reach its surface. An Ecuadorian hiker we had met on the trail expresses some concern about going on. He’s considering turning back. A light rain falls and the peaks are shrouded with clouds. Juan tells him the path is well-trod and that there are plenty of people ahead. As a small group walks past us the Ecuadorian scurries off to join them.
We finish eating, don our windbreakers, and follow.
Two small groups pass us and I mention we seem to be walking slower than the day before. Juan tells me he’s tired. The day before he had gone to the climbing gym after our hike to meet up with friends. During inclement weather the gym is usually packed and he took the opportunity to catch up with friends.
We continue hiking up until we reach the viewpoint for the Glacier Piedras Blancas. As we stand at the lookout, the clouds and mist part for a minute to show us the glacier on the edge of the lagoon before the weather takes over and the view closes up again.
As we hike on I ask him about the house he has built. He’s working on a second one on their property, a tiny house that they’ll Airbnb. I ask him about how that works and whether they have an account outside of the country. He tells me his wife is the brains; he’s the contractor. And a friend told him he should never finish building because then she could leave him. He jokes that he’s slow rolling it.
As we continue walking the path becomes dusted with snow. The snow has been falling steadily, though not with the intensity of the day before. I pause often to take photos, sometimes losing Juan, usually using him as scale, his red jacket easily spotted against the landscape.
We stop for lunch on the shore of Lake Capri. Juan tells me that during the summer you can swim in the lake. Later, Paul will tell me that he did just that when he visited Patagonia years ago. He shows me pictures of him in the water with mini icebergs behind his head.
After lunch we continue hiking, from one valley to another. The weather shifts suddenly as the skies clear and the sun emerges from the clouds. Looking back, the valley from which we came remains grey, the mountain peaks hidden from view.
As we approach El Chalten, Juan points out the red roof of the house left by the original Danish settler. It’s a museum now, preserved as it was for future generations to explore and learn about what once transpired.
Before descending into town, we stop by a lookout. Juan points out the road we drove in the morning north out of the town through the valley. Looking down we can see hikers on the same road returning to Chalten.
Coming down off off the trail, we pass a yellow-roofed house. Juan tells me it was the first house built in Chalten. It’s now empty, but not as overgrown as I might have expected.
As we near the hotel I ask if he wants to get a drink. He agrees and we stop by a local pub where they brew their own beer. We each order a pint and take our drinks outside to sit on the porch in the lee of the wind. It’s a perfect end to the week in Patagonia, and the three days in Chalten. In the back of my mind I’m already planning to return for another three days next Spring/Fall to see if I can retrace some of the same steps and capture clear views of the mountains I know surround us. 🇦🇷
