Puerto Natales and Torres del Paine National Park, Chile
After a very enjoyable stay in Puerto Varas, Chile, we set off for the much-anticipated next leg of our trip. This would be the single biggest jump we had made to date and involved taking the first flight we had utilized since returning to the mainland from the Galapagos way back in late July. Truth be told I actually felt a twinge of guiltiness. I had really learned to love our bus rides and the intimate views of landscape that you just can’t get from 30,000 feet, and getting on a plane somehow struck me as cheating. On the other hand we were headed to an extremely remote part of the world, and the prospect of spending either three days on a ferry or swallowing two back-to-back twenty-hour bus rides was a little more than even this gipsy was prepared to handle. So, off we went, flying from Puerto Montt down to Punta Arenas and following the beautiful spine of the Andes the whole way. The views out the window provided a real taste of what was to come.
From high above I could see incredibly imposing mountains, black and brooding and still covered in plenty of snow. In between the high peaks were great flowing rivers of ice that twisted and turned through the valleys, eventually ending in huge lakes filled with their own debris. We were flying over the Southern Patagonian Ice Field, home to the third biggest extension of continental ice after Antarctica and Greenland and therefore also the world’s third largest fresh water reserve. This was some seriously rugged territory, and I couldn’t wait to get a closer look at it.
We touched down in a barren, wind-swept landscape and caught a bus to Puerto Natales. Before I go on though a quick note about the wind is required since it is the most prominent feature of the land that can’t actually be seen. In short, it is powerful beyond imagination and absolutely relentless. One second you’re literally leaning into it struggling to walk forward as if some giant unseen cart were attached to your body. The next second you’re walking in the same direction it’s screaming, careful to step fast enough before it doubles your forward momentum with a powerful shove in the back. At night we would lie in bed listening to it howl, just waiting for what felt like the inevitable moment when the roof above us would fly away. It caused the few trees there are to grow in great twisted shapes and made even the smallest of lakes froth like the angriest sea. It was both terrifying and fascinating at the same time, and I now need not witness a hurricane in my lifetime, for I’m completely aware of how one operates.
Once in Puerto Natales we took up residence in Hostal Amerindia and hit the streets exploring the town. To be honest there’s not really much to the town itself besides a plethora of tour agencies and outdoor gear shops. It’s in the middle of nowhere and survives these days primarily as a base from which to explore the nearby Torres del Paine National Park. The park is pretty much what brings anyone to this far away part of South America, ourselves included, so we didn’t waste any time setting up an excursion to see it. Many people head there for the incredible array of hiking opportunities the park offers, particularly the famous “W” trek. We had neither the gear, stamina, nor time for 5-7 days in the backcountry though, so instead we settled for a full-day trip to catch the highlights.
As we approached the park we saw a few interesting creatures including some giant birds that look just like a smaller version of an ostrich and a species of camelid called the guanaco that resembled the llamas we had seen months before in Peru. Eventually we made our way deeper into the park and caught a glimpse of its most famous and prominent features which are the giant rock horns and towers of the Cordillera del Paine. 
These are enormous rock features carved by eons of action of the wind and ice. They dominate nearly every view from within the park and are surrounded by a series of lakes that seem to display every shade ranging between blue and green. Later we went a lake that stood at foot of a distant glaciers. The glacier itself was too far way to see fully, but the waters of the lake were filled with a couple of giant blue icebergs floating not far from the shore.
The other excursion we took from Puerto Natales was a boat ride through the narrow fjords that surround the town. The boat took us close to a number of hanging glaciers along the way, giving us a tantalizing taste of what we would experience the following week in the Argentinian part of Patagonia. We also got a chance to see some beautiful waterfalls and even a couple of sea lions resting lazily on some narrow cliffs carved into the rocky walls of the fjord. Midway through the ride the boat stopped at an estancia for lunch. An estancia is basically a large estate or farm. Most of them were once used primarily for raising vast flocks of sheep which provided not only a good chunk of the world’s wool supply, but also some downright delicious Patagonian grilled lamb. You know you’re in for a treat when you get off the boat and see this waiting for you:
The estancia put on a huge spread and kept bringing out the grilled lamb until we begged them to stop. During lunch we chatted up a nice couple from Spain while the husband of the pair made sure the staff wasn’t stingy with the unlimited Malbec. It proved to one of the finer feasts of our entire trip, and needless to say I may have napped a little on the boat ride back.
El Calafate and El Chalten, Argentina
We still had a lot of Patagonia left to see, so a couple of days later we caught a bus heading into Argentina. Our excitement level was running high not only because we knew the best part of the region was right around the corner, but also because we were about to gain some gringo reinforcements. That day our good friends Joe and Sara flew all the way down from Denver, giving up precious vacation time and the Thanksgiving holiday to share in our South American adventure. We were really honored that anyone would bother to come so far to hang out with us and couldn’t wait to see them. They showed up in El Calafate like two magi with a sack full of snacks that would last us for weeks after they left and a bottle of duty-free tequila with a somewhat shorter lifespan. We made our base at Posada Karut Josh and got right down to business.
Our first outing together was a trip to the nearby Perito Moreno glacier, a wall of blue ice three miles wide and the most stunning natural phenomenon I have ever witnessed. A million words could be typed in a vain attempt to fully convey the experience of seeing it, so instead I’ll just present you with a few pictures.
Our tour began with a boat ride across the lake passing in front of the glacier and reaching the opposite shore near its base. There we received a brief lecture on glaciology in general and the Perito Moreno specifically before being fitting with crampons. Then we hiked up onto the glacier itself, exploring a few of its cracks and crevices, drinking the pure melt water straight from its many flowing streams, and peering into a couple of the sinkholes where water drained and disappeared into oblivion. The hike ended at a spot where they had set up a little table on the ice and served snacks and poured glasses of scotch over ice that was probably thousands of years old. After returning to the shore of the lake the boat took us back across the other side to a series of balconies where we had about an hour to watch the slow but unending advance of ice. Occasionally a massive chunck of the wall would calve off preceded by what sounded like a canon exploding and splashing down into the water below.
The next day we rented a car to do a some independent exploring. We drove through the countryside dodging unusually large hares that darted across the road until we reached the scenic shore of Lago Roca. From there we went back to town via a different road so we could stop to examine the Glaciarium or museum of Patagonian ice. Inside were several interesting exhibits and films on the formation, geography, and history of the exploration of the Patagonian ice fields. Perhaps the most memorable part of the Glaciarium though was the Glacier Bar located in its basement. It’s a bar that’s literally comprised entirely of ice…the walls, the floors, the furniture, even the cups.
They had you put on these funky thermal capes and mittens before you enter for what is supposed to be just a twenty-minute visit. On the day we were there they certainly weren’t checking the clock, and we had our fun for about half an hour at the all-inclusive bar before the cold got the the best of us.
We did one last organized tour in El Calafate that consisted of a 4×4 trip in the hill above the town. The weather wasn’t the greatest that day, but our driver was a hilarious local who drove us around for a few hours showing us lots of interesting sights. We saw a bunch of fossils and crazy rock formations along the way, and he even whipped up some tasty steak sandwiches for us when we stopped for lunch.
There was still another town in the area was wanted to see, and the next day we pack up our rental car and made the two-hour drive north to El Chalten to complete the remainder of our week with Joe and Sara. El Chalten is a tiny little town in a very remote setting, but its position as the gateway to the northern sector of Glacier National Park means the place fairly buzzes with loads of tourists eager to tackle its superb hiking trails. In fact, it bills itself as the trekking capital of Argentina, and folks come from all four corners of the globe just to get a peak at the incredible Mt. Fitz Roy looming above the town. Before we hit the trails we decided to check out another big glacier. We hooked up with a boat tour taking us across Lake Viedma to the base of a glacier by the same name. We weren’t able to walk upon this particular glacier, but the cruise itself was longer and took us through a series of enormous ice bergs that days before had calved off the glacier. 
The next day we were ready to hit the trails, so we packed up some snacks and some lunch and set out. The great thing about the hiking around El Chalten is that trails all start right from the town itself. All you had to do was walk down to the end of the street, find your trailhead, and start hiking up. We chose one of the easier hikes since none of us had done much serious hiking for some time. Still though, the trail was fun and the scenery was great as it wound its way up through the forest. After about an hour we came to an alpine lake set amongst the trees and peaks. The patagonian wind was definitely stirring that day, but we pressed on a little further hoping to catch a peek of the Fitz Roy through the low-hanging clouds. We still hadn’t seen the mountain yet after being in town for a few days and we were determined to catch it before we left. The trail continued on through a flat valley between a series of high rock walls. Eventually we decided to turn around and head back down but not before sighting another hanging glacier off in the distance. The Fitz Roy had eluded us so far that day, so we went into town to grab some grub. Back in El Chalten we sat enjoying a post-hike pizza. Suddenly there was a flurry of activity as people practically leapt from their tables and dashed outside, cameras in hand. The clouds were finally parting, and the Fitz Roy was slowly beginning to emerge as the sun went down. You would have thought a UFO was landing as both diners and pedestrians on the sidewalk alike stopped dead in their tracks to gaze at gray rock spires coming into view.
And, with that final lucky sighting, our time in Patagonia with our dear friends came to an end. The next morning we made an early dash back to the airport in El Calafate (careful to conserve our remaining fuel as there was no gasoline available in El Chalten for the entire four days we were there) and parted ways. Joe and Sara were bound for Buenos Aires and an unplanned two-day layover there thanks to an erupting volcano, and Kelly and I were bound for the city of Ushuaia at the extreme southern tip of the continent, where you’ll find us in the next chapter. See you then.
This cozy house would serve as our base for the next week or so. We spent a couple of days exploring both Puerto Varas and another little town on the other side of the lake called Frutillar. Both retained their strong German historical influence which leads not only to some interesting architecture, but also to some delicious German Kuchen and beers. If that weren’t enough, the proximity to the ocean gave us the opportunity take in some excellent seafood. We gorged ourselves on huge plates of conger eel smothered in shrimp sauce, crab casserole, and squid in garlic and chili at a tiny local dive called Dónde Gordito whose claim to fame was being one of the places Anthony Bourdain visited while filming his episode in Chile. When we weren’t practicing the fine art of glutony we were exploring the beautiful natural surroundings. On one particularly glorious, 
sunny afternoon we climbed aboard a local bus that took us to the area behind the volcano. There we took in the spectacular Petrohué Waterfalls (pictured above) and their stunningly clear, blue-green waters. We also hiked for an hour or two on a trail that provided some great panoramic views of the volcano while traversing a fascinating area of former lahars. 
By far the best part of our visit to Puerto Varas though was the excursion we took with John. Aside from being an excellent and affable host at his B&B, he also operates a world-class fly fishing and adventure 
the fish were practically begging for mercy. We literally lost count of how many we had hooked after just the first couple of hours. I’m pretty sure I caught the greatest number of fish that day, but the prize for the biggest individual fish went to Kelly when she landed a gorgeous rainbow that would make any angler back home in Colorado green with envy. I mean, just look at that beauty. It’s almost half as big as the smile on her face!
During our stay in the Puerto Varas area we also took a side trip down to Chiloé Island for a few days. A couple of bus rides and one quick ferry trip later we found ourselves on a misty, emerald island that looked quite different from the Chile we had seen thus far. And for good reason, too. Though it’s only separated from the mainland by a narrow stretch of water, the island has its own unique culture and heritage based on a distinctive mythology of witchcraft, ghost ships, and even forest gnomes. It also looked as though a big swath of Ireland had been uprooted and plunked down in the middle of South America as the harsh and rainy weather had forged a landscape of green rolling hills covered in a patchwork of farm patterns and thick forests. We set up shop in the northern city of Ancud at a nice little place situated right on the water and set about trying to take in a much of the place as our brief stay would allow. 
Mostly we wandering the hilly streets checking out the really old wooden houses and a few the 
that were home to several colonies of Magellenic penguins. These little guys are the largest of the warm-weather penguins, and they were just beginning to make their annual return to their breeding grounds. We saw probably a few dozen but were told that in another few weeks there would be hundreds. On the trip back to shore we also passed another fan of the local seafood, a sea otter who was floating on his back in the water while cracking open mussels to find the sweet meat inside.
of three separate incursions into Argentina. Crossing the Andes is always an exciting and beautiful experience, but this one would provide its own unique twist. Back in June of this year, the Puyehue volcano roared back to life after some fifty years of relative dormancy, spewing a column of ash nearly 40,000 feet into the air. It buried towns on the Argentinian side of the border and closed airports as far away as Melbourne, Australia. We had known this fact before we even left home, and knew it had the potential to spoil what would ordinarily be one of the most spectacularly beautiful parts of our entire trip, but hey, how often do you really get to see the the devastating effects of a volcano up close? As soon as we approached the border crossing located high in the mountains we began to notice a thin gray dust covering every surface. 
It grew thicker and thicker as we went west until eventually it stood in huge piles where it had been plowed off the road. There was a sickening beauty to it that is hard to explain. We stared out the window of the bus with a slack-jawed countenance, on one hand marveling at the transformative power of the pumice that had rained down for days, on the other hand realizing that the vast forest through which we traveled would reap dire consequences from being buried alive. 
was built to resemble an alpine town, and were it not for the Spanish-speaking locals you’d be hard-pressed to believe you weren’t smack in the middle of Switzerland or Bavaria. Once again the German influence was apparent. Chocolate shops on every corner, St. Bernards in the square complete with the little barrels under their necks, and cuckoo clocks in the shops. It’s no secret that the post-World War II Perón regime in Argentina was more than a little friendly to some Germans who once again needed a reason to get the hell out of Germany, and only a few months ago a book came out making the unlikely claim that Hitler and Eva escaped after the war and lived out their final days in Bariloche. Nazi sympathies aside, both the town and its surrounds are truly a sight to behold. Soaring peaks ring the town, and their sides reach right down to the shores of a host of pristine alpine lakes. In the winter it’s a world-class ski destination attracting skiers and snowboarders from around the globe, and in the summer visitors flock from all over to tackle its endless miles of hiking trails, fish, go horseback riding, and kayak. Kel and I rode a couple of different chairlifts up to some scenic spots to soak up the views. Our favorite was from the top of Cerro Campanario which apparently was once named by none other than National Geographic as one of the top ten views in the world. We rode the lift up, then hiked a couple of hours down a dirt road back into town. 
On another afternoon I tried my hand at kayaking for the very first time. Though the wind that afternoon proved to be a bit difficult and tiring to maneuver in, all in all I think did pretty well and might even be interested in investigating the sport a bit further one day. Our final excursion in the area was an afternoon boat ride across the blue waters of Nahuel Huapi lake to visit a couple of islands inside a national park. One of the islands had giant sequoia trees on it which I’m quite sure were the biggest and tallest trees I’ve ever seen in my life. 
Our first excursion took us to the nearby lakeside towns of Lican Ray and Coñaripe. One great thing about the lake district is that the entire area is served by a network of small buses that only cost a couple of bucks to ride. So, to get to these other little towns, all we had to do was walk ten minutes from our B&B to the center of Villarica, look for the bus displaying the name of the town we were interested in, and hop on. In Lican Ray we took a little hike along a peninsula that jutted out into Calafquen Lake. It had several different vantage points along the way with each providing a new and beautiful view of the lake and the mountains that stood behind it. At the end of the hike we passed through part of a village of the Mapuche people, a group of indigenous inhabitants of south-central Chile and southwestern Argentina. The Mapuche have an interesting history. Despite lacking a state organization, they managed to successfully resist several attempts by the Inca to conquer them, and when they were done with that some of them then proceeded to hold off the Spanish for another 300 years. Tough folks indeed. 
Now, let me just say that I’ve been to a hot spring or two in my day, but nothing I’ve ever seen prepared me for this one. 
Luckily for us the complex was pretty empty when we arrived, so we had the whole place almost entirely to ourselves, hopping around from pool to pool like two Goldilocks in search of just the right temperature. After a couple of hours of soaking we were like two relaxed raisins. Our driver (who waited patiently for us in the parking lot the entire time) took us back down the hill, and we bused it back to Villarica.
About a mile and a half later we reached the refugio where we would stay for the night. I had emailed the guy who ran the place the night before, and as luck would have it the last available private room was available, sparing us the potential hell of bunking up in a dorm room with lord-knows-what other oddball backpackers. Refugios are apparently quite common in the Chilean backcountry, but this was our first experience with one, and although we had no idea what exactly to expect, we definitely weren’t expecting much. Maybe a bed comfy enough to crash on for a few hours, maybe a simple meal we could choke down to hold us over until we got back to our B&B, but not much more than that. We arrived in time to find the owner Patricio having breakfast on the deck with some other travelers. He was extremely welcoming and friendly, looking remarkably like Chile’s own version of Jerry Garcia and immediately inviting us over to the table to have a quick snack of toast and coffee. We hung out there for about an hour, talking with a nice couple from Barcelona who were on their way out and another Australian couple who would also be staying there that night with us. Our bellies full, our veins coursing with caffeine, and our packs loaded with a simple lunch Patricio put together for us, we were finally ready to tackle the popular Los Lagos Trail, a dirt path that led a couple of miles up the valley to a series of alpine lakes and waterfalls. 
It was overcast and misty clouds gripped the mountains at low levels, but our host assured us this was a good thing because it would “add to the mystique of the lakes”. He couldn’t have been more right, too. The hike in was gorgeous, taking us up a well-marked path a couple of hours through stunning dense stands of old-growth araucaria and pines and huge ferns. As we neared the trail’s apex we began to encounter snow, so we grabbed a few sticks of bamboo to help steady ourselves for the final push to the lakes. Minutes later we were there, face to face with the most beautifully serene setting, a strand of three shimmering, crystal-clear lakes, each one more enchanting than the last. We explored around up there for a couple of hours visiting each lake, having our lunch while sitting on a boulder 
and snapping lots of pictures that would never hope to do the scene even the slightest bit of justice. On the way back down we took a couple of side trips off the trail to see some of the enormous waterfalls that were fed by the lakes above, eventually arriving back at the refugio and resting our chilled, tired bones in front of the warm wood stove. Patricio asked if we would be having the refugio’s dinner that night which we agreed to since we hadn’t brought any food of our own and were hungry from the hike. We figured he would slap together a couple of sandwiches or, if we were really lucky, whip up some simple spaghetti or something, but that was not to be the case this night. He then proceeded to go into the kitchen and spend the next FOUR HOURS crafting what would one of finest meals we’ve ever had. We weren’t exactly sure what he was making, we just knew was that the smells kept getting better and better. While he busied himself there, we whiled away the time in front of the fire swapping travel tales and pictures with the two Aussies and sampling a few of the many fine local brews from the impressive selection our host kept on hand. Finally it was time to eat, and Patricio dug into what turned out to be his enormous wine collection and produced a few bottles. We all sat down at a his giant wooden table and gazed in awe at what lay before us. Inside a huge metal pan was a curanto, a traditional dish from the Chiloe archipelago in Chile. It consisted of several different types of shellfish, pork loin, chorizo sausages, chicken, potatoes, and herbs all cooked up in a delicious broth of white wine and garlic. We were absolutely floored. For the next couple of hours we feasted like 
kings, listening to old jazz and funk records on vinyl while opening bottle after bottle of incredible Chilean wines and hearing Patricio’s stories about how he came to own the refugio, his history as an Emmy-nominated documentary film maker, and his passionate love of cooking. It was one of the most perfect evenings we’ve ever had, and when it finally ended we crawled into our cozy bed with full bellies and happy hearts. 
. The picture to the right is a picture of the tablas.
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