4-11-10 Torres del Paine, Chile

We left El Calafate three days ago and had to backtrack as our intended route through a high pass wouldn’t work for a few reasons. We were told there were many steps in the narrow trail that aren’t ideal for motorcycles, it’s typically used for hiking or pack animals. Also, there was no proper border crossing with customs and immigration to accept us which would be a problem when we tried to leave the country as we wouldn’t have any papers.
So, we took missed our little turnoff somewhere as they aren't too big on signs down here so we went a half hour too far and crossed into Chile via another border crossing, no big deal. We then rode up to Torres del Paine but not before getting lost again as they don't have signs showing their huge national park. We finally found the visitor center which I used to be highly opposed to due to seeing too many as a kid. I have since learned to like them but this one was severely lacking.
I had a ton of questions for the lady working there who answered none of them. ‘Can we buy food, water, firewood here? Are there cabins available? Is there snow and ice up the road? Lots of 'no se’ followed by a long shrug.
I was amused when she gave us each a little ticket then told us to turn around and hand the ticket to a lady at a desk a few feet from me. She stamped them and gave them back to me and we then returned them and told me to return to the first gal. Classic Latin American inefficiency. This whole time where was some other lady who had her forehead on her table, sleeping while sitting in her chair, loved it.
We rode an hour or so into the park which is centered around several huge rock formations, similar to Devils Tower in Wyoming but better, more jagged with ice, glaciers, snow, and waterfalls.
It was almost dark when we saw a little campsite that wasn't marked and had not utilities with it, just a table and a grill. Being a large gringo I was able to reach lots of dead branches in the trees and yanked them down for firewood. We got a big fire going and made some pasta and soup and tea all enjoyed with BENJAMIN vino tinto. Obviously superb.
We set up our little gypsy tents and fell asleep, waking up at 8am while it was still totally dark. Such a confusing feeling. We couldn't see the sun till about 10 am. It was freeeezing so we made another little fire and boiled up some water from a little stream nearby. We later found that our pristine mountain stream was frequented by a herd of cattle which prompted us to boil the water for longer than usual the next time.
We set off hiking up towards 'El Mirador' which seemed like a good idea. It was to an overlook of some of the rock towers we were told. The trail was 6 miles in, a steady climb for the most part. Mark and I quickly felt the effects of sitting almost stationary for hours and hours every day.
It was supposed to take us 3.5 hours to the top according to our little tourist guide but we were clearly not on that schedule. We were on a 5ish hour track. We're both horribly out of shape. Not fat out of shape, but weak out of shape. We took dozens of breaks for water, tuna, crackers, olives, cookies and granola bars.
At one point we were passed by a group of tourists on horseback, the first lady was complaining about how much her knees hurt while she was riding. Mark and I considered becoming horse thieves but didn't take action.
We made it to the mirador which overlooked a milky grey-blue lake under the huge rock towers with rock fields surrounding us. Very impressive.
The road home was luckily downhill and faster but oh so painful. This is why God made ATVs. We're getting old, it's a fact.
We staggered down and poked our head in the huge lodge near our campsite, $300 for a room, $10 beers on tap and walked out. We walked back to our little camp and ate some more soup and pasta. A huge herd of cattle started roaming around our camp bleating and mooing. Mark and I each executed good shots with golf-ball sized rocks which kept the beasts away for a little. They came back early in the morning and woke us up again.
The second night was colder than the first so being the clever little Boy Scout that I am at times, I made a hand-warmer of sorts to have with me in my sleeping bag. I took an empty jar of instant coffee, unscrewed the lid and poured some hot water inside. I put the lid back on and wrapped the thing in a bandana. I then crawled into my bag and tucked my little cylinder of warmth inside my shirt, quite content as it was toasty. Well, it was very, very toasty I later realized.
I later woke up with a terrible burning sensation in my chest. No, didn't have the lid come off and get scalded, nor did I break break the glass and have glass shards in my chest. I did some investigative poking around and realized that I had two blisters just to the left of my sternum. Not a common place for blisters I don’t think.
A few nights later I awoke in pain again as I had accidentally ripped one of the blisters open with my watch in my sleep. Looking forward to warmer climates soon but must keep going south for a while yet.