SEE ALSO
Trekking Patagonia
Cruising the Zodiac
Chamonix: To Climb or Not to Climb
Twight's New Route
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| | | It's always been irresistible, now it's comfortable. |
The man fell from the second story of a bright blue building. He looked
like a goner, but the rope caught him a few feet from the pavement. He
laughed and climbed back up, ready to try the hard route on the
artificial climbing wall again.
Patagonia used to be, truly, the end of the earth. Arguably it still is,
but
it no longer feels that way. Until recently, this windblown, ineffably
beautiful tip of South America saw, in the way of tourists,
only a few hardy climbers or adventurous trekkers. A visit to
Patagonia's famous mountains and lakes was even more exotic than a trip
to the Himalaya, and badged the traveler as hardcore.
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"I'm grateful I arrived in
time to see these places before... before they become as crowded as
the Khumbu..." |
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But this is no more. The future has caught up with these southern
reaches of
Chile and Argentina. The traveling is more comfortable, the border
hassles more reasonable, and the amenities well, we're talking
climbing
walls
here.
After a month in the Falklands, I was beginninng to feel the stab of
homesickness. This climbers' oasis, this strangely familiar scene way
down here in Puerto Natales, looked like the requisite tonic. The sign
said "Amerindia Concept," which wasn't very descriptive, but lower case
letters proclaimed, "slide shows, coffee, beer." Home at last.
I was greeted in English (music to a monoglot such as myself) as
I entered a sunny coffee shop that would fit in any city's university
district.
Pages clipped from the Mountaineers calendar decorated the walls. From
the
aroma I could tell that I wouldn't need to swill Nescafe for a while. I
inquired
about a room: $10 to $15 per person, double occupancy. The lower
priced
rooms meant a shared bathroom.
Once settled in my own digs, I found my view was of a
Chilean fjord leading toward the
glacier-clad peaks of Parque Nacional Bernardo O'Higgans. Just beyond
stood
the spires and walls of Torres del Paine, one of Earth's loveliest
parklands.
I met with the proprietors, Hernan and Romualdo, who spoke warmly about
the huge climbing and trekking potential of the area. Both were ardent
climbers using their hostel as a means to finance their
true love. In addition to running the hotel/restaurant, they guided
hiking,
climbing, and kayaking parties on the Chilean side of the mountains.
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"Cars drive on the wrong side until a driver with right of way
forces them over. Despite this... I saw no
evidence of human carnage..." |
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Before discovering the Amerindia Concept, I spent my days among the
peaks
of Torres del
Paine (pronounced "Pine-Nyay") in a state of high excitement. The
granite
walls
dwarfed Yosemite's El Capitan. Glaciers rivaling Alaska's largest
ground
down
the valleys and calved into aquamarine lakes. Guanacos grazed and
sparred
under the attentive eyes of soaring condors.
Astoundingly, I repeatedly bumped into old acquaintances bound for the
big walls. Patagonia has become comfortable enough to attract swelling
groups
of climbers and
other visitors, almost all from Europe or North America. One can huddle
in
a
tent among the spires or relax at a pricey lakeside lodge. The weather
can
close
down for weeks, but here in high summer, I saw the peaks, often
bathed
in sunshine, every day.
That's the good news. On the
other
hand, Chile is still an emerging country with a cumbersome
infrastructure: climbers must apply for permits before arriving at the
park or risk
days
or weeks of bureaucratic delay.
Across the Chile-Argentina border lies Parque Nacional Los Glaciares,
home
to
Cerro Torre and the Fitzroy massif. Cerro Torre and its neighbors are
classic
spires, inaccessible daggers of rock that only in the last 25 years
first felt the footsteps of
men. Wind deposits a meringue of ice on the west faces
where
Antarctic winds sweep across the Patagonian ice cap and condense
moisture
on
the cold rock. Climbers spend weeks or even months waiting for the
weather
to
calm enough to allow sorties on their targeted routes.
Travel to either park is easy by bus or with a rental car. I found the
parks in Chile to be better organized campgrounds, restrooms,
even
"agua caliente" showers heated by wood fires. The Argentine
roads
tend to be rough a la the Alaska Highway circa 1970. Chile saves money
by
paving only one lane. The road from Punta Arenas to Puerto
Natales consists of one paved southbound lane and one dirt northbound
lane.
Cars drive on the wrong side until a driver with
right
of way forces them over. Despite this unusual economy, I saw no evidence
of human carnage, but lots of deceased machinery.
One thing chilled me more than the winds that can come up from nowhere
to wrap the car door around the fender: the world is poised to discover
these grand parklands. The
good
old days are right now. Go, but go now. I'm grateful I arrived in
time to see these places before...before they become as crowded as
the Khumbu.
James Martin, Mountain Zone Contributing Editor
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