The following morning after a recovery hamburger we hit the road, this time we were headed for the Argentinean Trekking capital of the world, the magnificent El Chalten. By Patagonian standards, this was a relatively short drive from El Calafate, a mere 230km or 4 hours by Kumuka truck. After negotiating some heavily corrugated unsealed roads we crossed a very precarious looking bridge before arriving into the quiet hiking hamlet of El Chalten. El Chalten was only established in the late 1980s, and it has become the defacto southern hemisphere Mecca for trekkers, climbers and adventurers. The silence and tranquility was deafening on arrival. During the winter months when temperatures plummet to "minus ridiculous" all those with an ounce of sensibility leave the place. As it was late April, and on the verge of the winter freeze, then the town was virtually closed apart from a scattering of locals and the odd cafe. Oh and our accommodation was open thankfully, and to our joy we were not required to camp. Our frigid camping experience in Torres Del Paine was still telling. We quickly settled into our accommodation, these rather quaint cabanas. We then proceeded to pay Dave, our tour leader, for the optional ice-climb excursion to Glaciar Torre which we had intended on taking the following day. It was at this point, that Dave enlightened us in more detail on the days adventure. What we had thought was a short hike out to the glacier for the ice-climb was in fact a 4 hour walk at minimum and involved setting out in the dark with the last hour involving a steep scramble. This put Margaret in a bit of a bother given the state of her ankle, so while I was fine to go, Margaret was uncertain about whether to do it or not. There was much tossing and turning that night over the decision.

We were up very early. At 6am, in fact in order to meet our tour guides at 7:00am. After much sleepless deliberation, Margaret decided at the last minute, to chance it, and come along for the days walk and ice climb. We met the guides as planned and then traversed an undulating valley path in the glow of torch light as dawn approached. The first leg of the walk which was around about 1.5 hours, took us to a Mirador (a lookout), which gave us a magnificent view of Cerro Torre (Mount Tower) and the glacier we would climb beneath. The dawn light was enough to see by now, so extinguishing our torches we descended from the Mirador down into the valley, for the 1 hours hike over flat terrain to the base camp, where we were to be fitted with our ice climbing gear. Up until the Mirador, Margaret and I had kept good pace with the guides, but as the suns first rays hit the peaks of Cerro Torre, we lost momentum as I let rip with my camera. The beauty of this place was breathtaking, and we could have sat for hours taking the vista in. But, as the photo stop and intake of breathe had slowed us down, Margaret and I became the stragglers of the group, and the guides took off on us, leaving us following a reasonable path towards the glacier through bog and low-lying heath. The guides were waiting for us at a junction and before too long we arrived at base-camp.

The camp was in a copse of beech trees and proved to be frigid with cold as the site was covered in a white carpet of snow and ice. Over the course of the next half hour, we were fitted with our crampons (ice cleats) and harnesses. While we waited we all had to take on board Li’s infamous exercise routine to keep warm. Li was notorious for her warm up exercises every morning and after every break on the truck. Eventually and gratefully, we set off for the glacier, so we warmed up again soon enough. We scaled the terminal moraine of the glacier which sat at one end of the glacial lake. The lake was iced over in parts, and the reflections of Cerro Torre were stunning. We traversed the rocky rim until we reached a flowing stream, which was flowing from the lake. Now, while a few strategically placed rocks in the stream could have seen us across the torrent safely, our guides being avid climbers had rigged a rope-pulley across the water. So we all had great fun hauling ourselves, hand over hand, across this rope pulley to get to the other side. It was probably also to get us used to using our safety harnesses, which were intended for the ice climb later in the day. And it was great fun. It broke up the hike out to the glacier and took our mind off the climb that was to come.

Reflections on Cerro Torre, El Chalten, Argentina

After we had hauled ourselves across, we had a short walk along more moraine to the foot of the steep incline which was the last 1 hour stretch to the glacier. This was a difficult climb and involved plenty of scrambling. While a difficult climb, the views offered of the glacier and Cerro Torre were astounding. The ice-blue vista offset by the autumn colour fest of the beech trees was truly stunning. The climb was interrupted for around 10 minutes to inhale this magical scene.

King of the Mountain, Stephen overlooking Cerro Torre and Glacier, Argentina 

Margaret, played a blinder, and despite her less than sturdy ankle, took the challenge of the climb on. It took us about 1.5 hours to climb up and then descend the precarious scree slope down to the glacier itself. We were pretty tired by the time we reached the bottom, but that was overcome by the elation that we had arrived at the glacier.

No rest for the wicked once down on the glacier though. We quickly donned our crampons and after a short instruction in ice-walking we all began the 1.5 hour walk to the site of our ice climb. This particular ice-walk didn’t feel safe at all. The glacier was very undulating and any slip may well have been rewarded with a slide into a chasm or sink hole. Margaret almost went, and decided to take the guide with her. Fortunately, both managed to stay up-right. In fact Margaret was clinging so closely to her guide, Alexis, that at one point he began humming the Bridal March. I wasn`t jealous of course. The Torre Glacier itself was not as visually spectacular as Grey or Moreno Glacier but still amazing in its own right, for its undulating type structure and the fact that it was at the bottom of the beautiful mountain ranges Cerro Torre and Cerro Grande. After a while, we gained more confidence in walking on the ice, and it quickly turned out to be great fun. One guy in our tour had the scary sensation of putting his leg through a thin patch of ice. Fortunately, he managed to recover quickly with the help of a guide.

And so, we made it to the site of the ice-climb after about 5.5 hours of hiking, hauling, scrambling and ice-walking. We were greeted by a wall of sheer ice, around about 30 or 40 feet high. The guides free climbed the wall without a harness and made it look so easy. They set up some safety ropes for us, and soon enough we were all having a go. The trick was to use the ice-claws on the front of your crampons to dig into the ice and then use an ice-axe in each hand to dig into the ice above your head and then haul yourself up. It was hard work, I must have stubbed my toes countless times trying to get the front claws of my crampons to find purchase with the ice. I did make it to the top though. The best part of it, was then abseiling back down. Margaret also had a go, and did quite well, climbing two thirds of the way up the wall.

Ice Climbing Free-Style, Cerro Torre, El Chalten, Argentina 

Everybody in the group had had an ice climb so we had lunch quickly before setting off to head back to El Chalten. It was a shorter journey off the ice, and very quickly we began negotiating the steep moraine incline once again. This was tougher this time given the knackery effect was taking hold. Margaret, Robin (the most senior on tour at 59 years of age) and I were soon lagging behind everyone else who made good pace up the hill. By the time we had ascended and descended down to the terminal moraine once more another 1.5 hours had passed and we were quite tired. After a further short walk, we caught up with the group who had started to pull themselves across the rope-bridge. After winching ourselves across we traversed the remaining moraine and then got back to base camp where we returned our ice-climbing gear. It was at this point at 5:45pm that the guides informed us that we should get moving quickly as it was dark at 8pm. Given it took us 2.5 hours to get to the base camp with fresh legs, we set off a wee bit concerned about it all. The guides also informed us that they would follow later after they had sorted out the gear.

Robin, Margaret and I were the official stragglers of the group (or The Fellowship of the Whinge as I soon coined, after hearing the amount of ‘Fecking and Blinding’* that was emanating from our fatigued mouths). The rest of our group took heed the ice-climbing guides warning about the dark and legged it back to El Chalten. Fortunately, the path was quite OK, and we made it back to the Mirador by about 7:30pm, but the light was fading quickly and we had at least 1 hour to go.   By around 7:45pm our touches came on. The one torch I had though had extinguished its battery, so we became reliant on only one torch, between 3 people. Eventually when night had descended completely, I led using the torch to see where we were going and then shining it at the feet of Robin and Margaret so they knew where to put their feet on the rocky path. At about 8:15pm, the guides caught up with us, and had a casual conversation with us, about how great it was because they were now on holidays, and not to worry because in 20 minutes we would see the lights of El Chalten. "Just one more valley", they said , and took off ahead of us into the descending night. Well, we weren’t impressed, because after we descended into valley number two and still had not seen the lights of the town we began to worry. Annoyed consternation that our guides had just taken off and left us behind. No such thing as "duty of care" on this little venture.

* Useless Piece of Trivia: For those of you who aren’t familiar with the expression ‘Fecking and Blinding’ and perhaps haven’t worked it out. It means to swear. Yes, it’s an Irish thing.

The Fellowship of the Whinge, Robin & Margaret on the return hike, El Chalten 

While we were always on a path, I retraced our steps a few hundred metres at one point to ensure we had not deviated. Eventually, we had no option but to keep following the path, and our fears eventually abated after seeing foot prints on the trail and as we climbed one more incline the illumination of El Chalten met our weary eyes. Another 30 minutes and we had negotiated the last undulating hills and then back into town and to our hostel. We were pretty unimpressed that the guides had left us, particularly given that we didn’t know the area. If we didn’t have a torch we would have had to sit it out all night. Fortunately, it all ended well, and it was a minor blight on a tremendous day out. Margaret in particular achieved a great deal on an ankle that was still weak from her injury a month ago. The look of relief on our tour guide, Dave’s face when we arrived at our accommodation was priceless. I’m sure he was thinking, okay I’ve got 3 people lost in the freezing wilds of El Chalten….what to do!!!

The following day we slept in. Exhausted from the night before. We took a leisurely stroll out to Salto Chorrillo (Waterfall Chorrillo), before being almost trampled by some frisky horses on the return hike into town. We took a few photos of the majestic Mt Fitz Roy. I also learned that Chalten was the Indian name for Mt Fitz Roy which means "the mountain that smokes". Fitz Roy was the name given to the Peak by the explorer Perito Moreno after one of the crew on the Beagle voyage I believe. So a deserved relaxing day was had.

The following day we left El Chalten, bracing ourselves for another long Patagonian drive. We headed northwards once more on our way to the Argentinean lakes district, and notably Bariloche. The highlight of the day was the early morning drive from El Chalten. We were blessed with the most incredible sun-rise, the colours of which reflected off the peak of Cerro Torre, and washed the morning clouds in a glorious palette of pink and orange. It was truly magical and we took a 15 minute stop to take it all in. I could have spent longer here. If you want to see a truly stunning place before you die, then it’s pretty difficult to go passed this place.

Sunrise over Cerro Torre, El Chalten, Argentina 

It wasn’t long after leaving El Chalten that the terrain reverted once more to the familiar flat Patagonian plains that we had been so accustomed to on our long drive days. Reading a book was the order of the day, and I finished mine by the time we arrived in the small town of Perito Moreno. This was a dinky little town. We stayed at a camp ground and were blessed once more with cabana accommodation, so we didn’t have to pitch a tent. The accommodation was short-lived though as we had yet another early start the following morning in order to make Bariloche the following day.