All Good Things - Torres del Paine Part 5

A Triple World

Cuernos has to be one of the most stunning places I have ever camped. Standing outside my tent, I could look south towards the bright blue water of Lago Nordernskjöld, and imagine I was in the Caribbean. Turn east to the craggy peak of Cerro Paine Grande, and I was in the Alps. Then north, and lush forested slopes and sparkling waterfalls of Cuernos del Paine’s southern slopes were like something out of The Lost World. 

Just a pity the water was a degree or two above absolute zero.

We set out for our eighth, and final, day on the trail. Another beautiful sunny day, and an easy hike to Central, bringing us full circle, to the end of the ‘O’.

Sometimes You Just Can’t Win.

04:00 in the morning, twelve men were gathered in a campsite toilet.

The start of our last day in the Torres del Paine. We were supposed to be heading up to see the sunrise at the towers, but instead, we stood in a tense group, in a toilet. 

Why? Patagonia.  

Outside, it was wet. 

Very wet. 

Wet and windy. 

Very windy. 

Wet and windy and dark. 

Whatever offering had been made to the weather gods at the start of our trip, that had kept them happy for the past week, had apparently run out. 

I could tell the lads were all happy to push through. Despite memories of the narrow path up the Valle Ascencio, narrow, with a steep drop to a rocky river, I wanted to push through. 

Mark, though, had reservations. A more experienced leader than I, he recognised that, sometimes, the goal isn’t worth the risk. Slowly, I came round to his point of view. I was reminded of a phrase used by another leader I’ve worked with, “if there’s any doubt, there’s no doubt, you just don’t go”.

It’s a tough decision to make. For all of us, Mark included, seeing the towers was to be one of the highlights of the trip. But, as much as we were tempted to just say “F it” and go, we had a responsibility to the safety of the group. 

As we returned to our tents, I could tell that Chris in particular, who put so much time and effort to put this trip together, was more than a little dejected. But, I hope, he and the others recognise it was the right call. 

John Muir said “the mountains are calling”, but sometimes all they say is piss off.

Later that day, we boarded the bus back to Puerto Natales. Happy to be heading back to real beds and hot showers (and to escape the grinding diet of pizzas, burger and beers in the refugios), but sad to be leaving such an incredible part of the world. 

A night in Puerto Natales, a day in Punta Arenas, where Poth finally got a chance to use the fishing rod he had lugged around the entire 'O' Circuit (apparently without seeing a single body of water large enough to fish in...), and then the long haul home.

Despite missing out on the towers, that trip earned itself a firm place on my list of favourite expeds. The guys were a pleasure to hike with, the landscape was incredible, and getting a brief glimpse of life at the other end of the world was hugely interesting. It would have been great to see the towers but hey, at least I have a good reason to go back some day. 

The group at the Glacier Grey. Can't remember when Chris, front and centre, picked up his cap, but it definitely changed the tone from "Chris organised this expedition" to "we are taking dear Chris for a nice walk..." - Thanks to Andy for this photo.