Lots to see in Argentina. First stop: Perito Moreno Glacier. It is one of South America's most accessible glaciers, and thus a huge tourist attraction. The visible field seen in the pictures is just the tip of glacier, which is 100 sq miles in size. The height of the visible ice wall is over 200 ft. I'm at a loss to say more about it.
The visitor center at Perito Moreno is quite nice, and they have built and extensive steel walkway system to view both faces of the glacier. I was overwhelmed by the number of people who were sporting heavy-duty hiking boots and extreme foul-weather gear for a walk that could have been done in a bathrobe and slippers. In 2001 I hiked the Inca Trail (Machu Picchu) in Peru. Before my trip, I invested in a $200 pair of hiking boots. As I struggled to haul my backpack up and down the Andes mountains, Peruvian porters wearing rubber sandals were flying past me and carrying twice as much weight. It was a good lesson. Proper gear is important, no doubt, but in most situations, expensive gear is really overkill. As for my $200 hiking boots? They are beautiful shoes which have stood the test of time, but I left them at home. The Torres Del Paine trek was at times quite difficult and my pack was heavy, but I managed to pull it off wearing Chaco sandals and a pair of wool socks, and my feet were never miserable.
Unfortunately, I did have an accident my last day of hiking. Spirits were high and I was moving quickly down the trail. I took an uncomfortably high step which resulted in a slight loss of balance and smashing my right knee into a rock. I initially thought that I had just bruised the area around my kneecap, but after several days it was clear the damage was more serious. My kneecap wasn't sliding up and down properly. Walking on flat ground was slightly painful, walking downhill was very painful. That made my next destination, El Chalten, a bit of a disappointment.
El Chalten is an outdoor enthusiast's Mecca. The town is fairly new, built up by granola-minded climbers and hikers. The end of main street is the trail head for the national park containing several mountain peaks, the most famous being Fitz Roy.
Good weather is notoriously hard to come by, so when my second morning offered a cloudless sky, my knee be damned, I hiked to the base of the peak. The base is an 8 mile hike from town, and the last bit climbs a half mile in elevation. The 16 mile round-trip hike is tough when you're feeling good, so with my knee it turned into a really painful ordeal on the return leg home. Still, I have to say that the weather over the next 4 days would have made the trip impossible for me had I waited. Cold wet wind dominated the skyline and snow prevented other hikers from reaching the top.
My hostel in El Chalten was actually a converted, single-family home. The upstairs bedrooms were crammed with either 4 or 5 bunk beds. Not ideal accommodations, but lying awake at night, listening to the howling, unrelenting wind outside, it was quite comforting knowing that we were all inside together. The owner of the hostel was a friendly guy, living next door with his wife and small children, who were happy to socialize with all the travelers. The main room downstairs was equipped with a picnic table and entertainment system, which played concert DVD's nearly all day long. The owner and I have some unique commonalities in our music taste and one night I walked in to see a concert of Joe Satriani playing on the tv. Joe Satriani is a hard rock guitarist who plays with a technical proficiency which is truly uncommon. You'd be hard pressed to find a serious guitarist who isn't familiar with Satriani's work. I've seen Joe in concert at least 10 times, so it's fair to say that I'm a big fan. I immediately planted myself in front of the tv while the owner and two of his friends had ceased conversation and were similarly drawn to the television. The four of us sat together, mesmerized by his moving fingers. In a place that felt a world away from home, it felt good sharing that experience with people who have been touched by the same (and somewhat obscure) music as me.
With the weather turning bitter and my knee upset with me, it was time to head north. Route 40 is to Argentina what Route 66 is to USA. It's over 3000 miles long. The southern section which gets you out of Patagonia is a lonely stretch of road. The 850 mile journey is largely on gravel road in an area that supports almost no vegetation. The bus ride down this stretch took 33 hours. Staring out into vast nothingness was another chance to feel small in the world.
(disclaimer: not actually route 40)
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| From Argentinian Patagonia |
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| From Argentinian Patagonia |
The visitor center at Perito Moreno is quite nice, and they have built and extensive steel walkway system to view both faces of the glacier. I was overwhelmed by the number of people who were sporting heavy-duty hiking boots and extreme foul-weather gear for a walk that could have been done in a bathrobe and slippers. In 2001 I hiked the Inca Trail (Machu Picchu) in Peru. Before my trip, I invested in a $200 pair of hiking boots. As I struggled to haul my backpack up and down the Andes mountains, Peruvian porters wearing rubber sandals were flying past me and carrying twice as much weight. It was a good lesson. Proper gear is important, no doubt, but in most situations, expensive gear is really overkill. As for my $200 hiking boots? They are beautiful shoes which have stood the test of time, but I left them at home. The Torres Del Paine trek was at times quite difficult and my pack was heavy, but I managed to pull it off wearing Chaco sandals and a pair of wool socks, and my feet were never miserable.
Unfortunately, I did have an accident my last day of hiking. Spirits were high and I was moving quickly down the trail. I took an uncomfortably high step which resulted in a slight loss of balance and smashing my right knee into a rock. I initially thought that I had just bruised the area around my kneecap, but after several days it was clear the damage was more serious. My kneecap wasn't sliding up and down properly. Walking on flat ground was slightly painful, walking downhill was very painful. That made my next destination, El Chalten, a bit of a disappointment.
El Chalten is an outdoor enthusiast's Mecca. The town is fairly new, built up by granola-minded climbers and hikers. The end of main street is the trail head for the national park containing several mountain peaks, the most famous being Fitz Roy.
 |
| From Argentinian Patagonia |
Good weather is notoriously hard to come by, so when my second morning offered a cloudless sky, my knee be damned, I hiked to the base of the peak. The base is an 8 mile hike from town, and the last bit climbs a half mile in elevation. The 16 mile round-trip hike is tough when you're feeling good, so with my knee it turned into a really painful ordeal on the return leg home. Still, I have to say that the weather over the next 4 days would have made the trip impossible for me had I waited. Cold wet wind dominated the skyline and snow prevented other hikers from reaching the top.
 |
| From Argentinian Patagonia |
 |
| From Argentinian Patagonia |
My hostel in El Chalten was actually a converted, single-family home. The upstairs bedrooms were crammed with either 4 or 5 bunk beds. Not ideal accommodations, but lying awake at night, listening to the howling, unrelenting wind outside, it was quite comforting knowing that we were all inside together. The owner of the hostel was a friendly guy, living next door with his wife and small children, who were happy to socialize with all the travelers. The main room downstairs was equipped with a picnic table and entertainment system, which played concert DVD's nearly all day long. The owner and I have some unique commonalities in our music taste and one night I walked in to see a concert of Joe Satriani playing on the tv. Joe Satriani is a hard rock guitarist who plays with a technical proficiency which is truly uncommon. You'd be hard pressed to find a serious guitarist who isn't familiar with Satriani's work. I've seen Joe in concert at least 10 times, so it's fair to say that I'm a big fan. I immediately planted myself in front of the tv while the owner and two of his friends had ceased conversation and were similarly drawn to the television. The four of us sat together, mesmerized by his moving fingers. In a place that felt a world away from home, it felt good sharing that experience with people who have been touched by the same (and somewhat obscure) music as me.
With the weather turning bitter and my knee upset with me, it was time to head north. Route 40 is to Argentina what Route 66 is to USA. It's over 3000 miles long. The southern section which gets you out of Patagonia is a lonely stretch of road. The 850 mile journey is largely on gravel road in an area that supports almost no vegetation. The bus ride down this stretch took 33 hours. Staring out into vast nothingness was another chance to feel small in the world.
 |
| From Argentinian Patagonia |
(disclaimer: not actually route 40)
Posts
Great post -- I hope your knee heals up soon. They're tricky things.
ReplyDeleteI hear ya on the expensive gear -- in Nepal, kids in flip flops flew up the trails carrying bags, chickens and cartons of goods while I struggled with just a daypack and hiking boots. Humbling.