The Wind and the Glacier of Dogs - Torres del Paine Part 3
Any discussion of Patagonia inevitably turns to the wind. There is apparently some unwritten mandate to mention Chatwin’s quote, “the wind, stripping men raw” (In Patagonia, great read, much recommended) or the tale of Antoine Saint-Exupéry's plane flying backwards in a mighty gale.
I saw this story referenced in three different articles but none gave a citation. Urban legend perhaps? After a lengthy search, which only came to an end when my dear girlfriend searched Exupéry's work in the original French, I can confirm no. It’s from his book A Sense of Life, in a chapter entitled ‘The Pilot and the Elements’.
So there we go, I have mentioned them both.
So far though, we had experienced none of it. Tramping around Patagonia for four days, the worst we had experienced was a gentle breeze.
Leaving Serón, we headed north, once again following the Rio Paine. Shortly, the valley turned eastward, the path climbing up over a steep spur, giving us views down to the Lago Paine. Within a few steps, we emerged into a gale. The wind buffeted us, prying the hood from my head, trying to suck the air from my lungs.
Welcome to the Roaring Forties.
As air is warmed at the equator, it rises, expands, and is pushed toward the poles. Approaching the poles, this air cools and descends. In the Southern Hemisphere, the air moves south and descends. Combined with the spin of the earth (the coriolis effect) this creates a westerly wind (a wind which blows from west to east, slightly counterintuitive I know). These winds prevail from around thirty to sixty degrees of latitude (Patagonia is in the region of forty degrees south, the roaring forties).
This circulation of warm and cold air, in various forms, is what creates the dominant wind patterns all over the world.
Why is it so noticeable in Patagonia? Because Patagonia is all alone at the bottom of the world. No other substantial land mass extends so far south. These winds circle the globe, picking up speed as they whistle over the empty Southern Ocean before slamming into the rocky wall of the Andes, and us.
This is an incredible oversimplification of meteorology. There are a couple of nice articles on Wikipedia (referencing Wiki, shoddy I know but hey, it got me through my degree) titled Roaring Forties and Atmospheric Circulation and I can recommend the weather section in the International Mountain Trekking handbook from Mountain Training
We made our way down the valley, the undulations of the trail dipping us in and out of the wind. Stopping at the Guarderia Coirón we signed the trail register. We were officially on the 'O' Circuit (one can trek as far as Serón on the 'W', but to get passed Coirón you need to have proof of bookings etc. for the campsites on the 'O').
Eventually, the wind eased and we dropped onto a grassy plain. Views of the Paine Massif's northern side unfolded before us. Then, climbing a slight rise, we spotted Refugio Dickson, our campsite for the night. Nestled in a kink of the shoreline where the Lago Dickson feeds into the Rio Paine, spectacular views on all sides. What a place to spend the night.
It was at Dickson that we were christened ‘The Beer and Pizza Group’ (the refugios are well stocked). A moment's silence here for the pizza which, caught by a particularly violent gust of wind, was frisbee'd out of the waitresses hand, making a break for it away across the lawn (thanks to Andy for reminding me of that!).
A nice thing about the ‘O’ circuit is that, for the northern end of the trek, everyone has to trek in the same direction, anticlockwise. Because of the spacing of the campsites, only a few rather ambitious people do two legs in a single day. All this means that you see the same faces each evening. This is fairly common on popular hiking trails but is something new to me. The only other times I’ve done this kind of long distance hiking trail were the Haute Route (Switzerland) last summer, which has so many campsites and variations you are unlikely to see anyone twice, and my time on the Kungsleden (Sweden) a few years back, when it turned out I was the only idiot heading north and not south.
Day 3 - The Glacier of Dogs
Despite our group’s nickname, we were up early and on the trail to the Los Perros campsite, named so because it sits adjacent to the Glaciar los Perros. Translating, in my terrible Spanish, as the Glacier of Dogs I was rather excited to see this wonder of the natural world. Sadly it was all a lie, not a pooch in sight, just a wall of ice spilling down between two craggy peaks, and a small lochan (lochan? I've been living in Scotland far too long).
Rhys trying to hold it together and look like an adventurer but secretly heartbroken at the lack of dogs.
We waited an hour, Andy with the GoPro on timelapse, but weren’t even treated to a single dramatic ice fall. In the end, all we got was another day of beautiful mountain views, natural serenity, and good company. What a disappointment.
References.
Bruce Chatwin, In Patagonia
Antoine de Saint-Exupéry A
Mountain Training, International Mountain Trekking
Wikipedia: 'Roaring Forties' and 'Atmospheric Circulation'