It’s our turn to relax this morning as other dorm members scramble to prepare for their hikes. The weather is certainly not cooperating, however. It’s snowing and blowing a gale in Torres del Paine National Park. I’m glad I’m not hiking 17 miles today. Indeed, Christi and I have a quiet morning ahead of us as we wait for the first catamaran departure from refugio Paine Grande to the Pudento docks at 12:30 pm. Christi is happy to sit by the fire in the large, communal living room and read, but I’m bored. So during a break in the weather I decide to go on a mini-hike to a Lago Pehoe viewpoint. Pathetically, I lose the trail in the hills above the hostel, then the snow and wind return, and I have an unpleasant cross-country slog back to the refugio. I’m such a dumbass.
Suitably chastised, I wait with Christi for the sixty-minute catamaran ride back to the Pudento docks. Several buses are waiting there to connect us with different destinations within the park. We head for the ranger station at Laguna Amarger. And while waiting for yet another bus connection, this time to the Hosteria Las Torres, I photograph a guanaco with wonky ears (or maybe he’s drunk). To reach the Hosteria we have to cross the Paine River via a rickety narrow bridge that’s barely wide enough for the minivan. It certainly not strong enough to carry the minivan and the passengers at the same time so we walk across separately.
The Hosteria Las Torres is the type of accommodation Christi and I live for: hotel rooms with comfy beds, and en-suite bathrooms. Trouble is, in this park, these rooms go for US$400 a night – real budget busters. The snow has returned and we wait in the heated lobby of the Hosteria trying not to look conspicuous. We still have a 2-hour hike ahead of us up to refugio Chileno in the Ascencio Valley and this time I’m lugging the full backpack. I’m not looking forward to this at all: the weather, the weight of the pack, coupled with the long hike – but as they say, it’s the hike that’s never started that takes longest to finish (or something like that). Reluctantly we say goodbye to luxury, throw open the doors of the Hosteria (not a popular move) and with hunched shoulders we trudge on into the white-out. We hike in silence. There’s nothing to look at other than the patterns our breath makes in the cold air. We place one foot in front of the other, concentrating on the slick trail until finally the refugio Chileno appears out of the gloom, hobbit-like, nestled at the base of a wooded valley and beneath the spires of the eponymous Torres Del Paine (well the guidebook says the peaks are out there somewhere.) The refugio is packed, but luckily we booked ahead from Paine Grande (being anal sometimes pays off). The eating area is toasty warm and there’s much talk and much excitement about tomorrow’s hike. The dorm rooms are freezing, though, and the bunks extend three tiers into the rafters. I’m on the second tier and poor Christi is within touching distance of the roof on the third tier.
Blog post by Roderick Phillips, author of Weary Heart – a gut-wrenching, heart-wrenching, laugh-wrenching tale
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