Patagonia Pt. 5

Campamiento Los Perros to Glacier Grey

“Tomorrow, the hike will be around 13 miles but last 11-12 hours. It will start with a 6,400 ft incline until the John Gardner Pass, then about a 9000 ft descent that will last around two to three miles. It is STEEP. If you don’t have trekking poles, find a good stick. After that, you’ll have around five hours left before you reach the next campsite. I suggest an early start.”

The ranger briefed me on tomorrow’s hike to Glacier Grey, looking concerned that I was one of the last people to arrive at the Los Perros Campsite that afternoon. I reassured him that I spent a few hours writing by the glacier. I’m not such a slow hiker.

“No writing or reading tomorrow. Stop to take a quick photo, but then keep walking.”

I nodded, scavenged for a perfect walking stick, and snuggled into my sleeping bag before 8 pm.

I woke up pre-dawn the following morning, swallowed a handful of trail mix, and followed a group of other hikers up into the forest. They were faster than me. It was dark, and the already aggressively steep trail was covered with fallen branches. I lost the group within thirty minutes, and I lost the trail soon after.

I couldn’t hear anyone around me, and I couldn’t see anything beyond the glow of my headlamp.

“HOLA!?” I yelled.

Silence.

“HELLO?!?!”

Nothing.

My heart started to race while I speed-walked through the trees, scanning my surroundings for the trail. Even though I climbed in elevation, the forest was so thick I could not get a clear view of what was below.

I high-kneed my way over tall bushes across the mountainside, hoping I would run into someone. Worst case scenario, I would walk back down, and I was positive the campsite would be easy to find. I wasn’t in any real danger, I told myself.

I lowered my body into a narrow, dry riverbed, suppressing panic tears, when I heard, “Oh hey, Jessica!”

It was a Texan man I met on my first day in Torres del Paine National Park. He was trekking up the riverbed. I was on the trail!

“I’m glad I ran into you! I was told this hike can get pretty gnarly, so it’s best to do it with a buddy. Want to walk together?”

I agreed, though my fear of getting lost was now replaced with a fear of holding a conversation with a stranger for possibly 11 hours. At least my mind was too wrapped up thinking of conversation topics that I paid less attention to the steepening incline until it was painstakingly impossible to ignore.

The trail left the forest and brought us into a clearing of loose rocks and draping glaciers as we ascended the pass. Orange metal poles jutted out of the earth indicating that the trail continued up as far as I could see. Teeny tiny backpackers ahead were slowly trudging up and behind a mountain. I hoped the incline ended there. (It didn’t.) Glacial runoff spilled from the direction we walked up, making the loose rocks even more slippery. Thank goodness it was a windless, sunny day. The trail could easily be a treacherous hike under worse conditions.

The conversation between my partner and I shrank into groans, numerous comments about burning calves/hamstrings/etc., and asking each other, “how much longer, you think?” As if either of us knew.

A wooden sign presented itself. My friend read it while I caught my breath, hands on my knees. “We’re about 1/5 of the way done, according to this map.”

Hours passed, and as magnificent as my surroundings were, I looked down at my feet as I walked. If I kept my head up and looked ahead, I would get discouraged, my heart would beat faster with overwhelm, and my body would ache more. So focusing solely on the next step was the only way I could convince my mind and body to keep moving.

“An inch is a cinch, but a yard is very, very hard,” My mom used to say.

I trudged on and on and on. Higher and higher and higher until…

“Jess, look up!” My friend said breathlessly.

I looked up, and my jaw dropped. We reached the summit of the John Gardner Pass, and ahead of us was Glacier Grey. It expanded across my peripherals, and even when I turned my head, I couldn’t see where it ended. It was gigantic. The ice field spanned across the bases of six or seven mountains, and a luminous baby blue hue glistened in the valleys and caves within it. Distant, thunderous howls erupted from the mighty glacier as it calved in places I couldn’t see.

I took off my backpack and sat while my friend opened his one pack of M&Ms in celebration.

It was just us, our aching muscles, a frigid wind, a powerful silence, and a 100 sq. mi. glacier. I felt so small and insignificant but in a beautiful way. The experience commanded a shift in perspective. My anxieties, pain, joys, past, present, and future matter, but I realized how foolish it was to believe my reality ended there. True reality is shared, constantly shifting, and expanding. Even this thousand-year-old massive glacier is merely a speck in the universe. So what am I?

The universe is infinite. It is a reminder that life events are important, but in the grand scheme of things, the itty bitty moments that make up our lived experiences do not matter as much as we think they do. A failed business venture, a breakup, an embarrassing moment, and even the death of someone important. All that matters and is worthwhile to hold dear, but the possibilities to learn and live in life go beyond what we personally experience. We just need to be open to going beyond our ego to find it. Fear, suffering, and pain are even smaller specs in this universe, as is joy. And oddly enough, that makes me feel free.

After an excruciating six more hours (where I experienced the steepest descent of my experience as a hiker, multiple adrenaline-pumping suspension bridges, dangerously exposed ledges, and the worst knee pain of my young life), I reached the Glacier Grey Campsite.

I was too tired to eat, wash up, or secure my tent. I just stripped down, got into my sleeping bag, and slept soundly until morning.

Hike Info:

Campamiento Los Perros to Campamiento Grey

Length: 22 km (13.7 miles) Point-to-Point
Elevation Gain: 1,204 m (3,950 ft.)
Terrain: Dirt trail. Loose, sometimes slippery rocks. LOTS of mud.
Other Notes: Trekking poles are recommended! I definitely needed a hand on the steeper steps and out of deep mud. Most of the trek will have forest cover, but the hardest ascent up the pass will be completely exposed to the sun! I was lucky that it was sunny, but I heard winds and rain are common, so I 100% recommend finding a buddy if you’re backpacking alone. The views are 100% worth the pain! Also, I brought ibuprofen, and I was very happy I did.

More Photos from the Epic Hike!