Beginning the Carretera

Ever traverse a 12 meter long climbing rope suspended across a swollen river just as wide, without clipping in? Me neither, that is until just recently. After my massive rack failure on the way out to catch the ferry at Lago Desierto, and our subsequent return to town, Daniel and I decided to hike out to Lago Torre, a few hours outside El Chalten. It seems my knack for procrastination has followed me even to the far reaches of South America, and also spread like an airborne virus to my companions.

Deep blue glaciers were suspended high above us, obscured by the thick clouds hanging around the mountain tops. The deck was slippery with water, it was raining as we slid along the cold blue surface of Lago Desierto. As the boat cut through the water, the anticipation built like the bow wave the boat pushed up in front of us. The steep black cliffs released their granite grip at the north end of the lake. A small patch of green grass and woods sat behind the small wooden dock. The Argentinean border station sprawled across the edge of the lake, small curls of smoke lazily drifted out of the tin chimneys. We left our boat and walked towards the border post. Bored soldiers sat inside in front of the television and ‘toman la mate che’, sipping the ubiquitous tea from wooden cups. After our passports were stamped, we set out to find Chile. There wasn’t even a sign to indicate where the trailhead was. Behind some horse stables, we found a rickety wooden bridge that seemed to lead up the side of a muddy slope. The bridge was the path to more than just a hike through the woods.