PLACES WE'VE BEEN...

It didn’t take me long to figure out the game at Torres del Paine National Park in Chile. If you get to see the three famous spires on this massive stretch of granite, you win. But if you come all the way to the end of the Earth, hike 4 hours up in the wind and cold and the clouds keep the spires hidden, you lose.

I first heard how this all worked when we arrived at our hikers lodge after a 5-hour drive from El Calafate in Argentina.

We’d driven across some of the most barren, windswept land I’d ever seen and then crossed into Chile where the mountains began. (The border town on the Chilean side had the oddest system for getting gas; you waited in front of three small wood buildings—each one containing a gas pump–till someone in town told the owner of the pumps that you were there. She then unlocked the buildings and filled you up.)

The day we arrived at Torres del Paine, it was blowing snow and we sometimes couldn’t see the road in front of us, much less the mountains. At dinner that night, we met a young German couple who told us that they knew people who had waited a week to see the three spires that Torres del Paine is known for, but that they were fortunate because the day they arrived the whole sky was clear and the three elusive peaks were shining like a set of jewels.

(One word about hiker’s lodges: The truth is that they’re very much like hostels. They have dormitory-like rooms and shared baths. To be honest, I wasn’t crazy about the idea of staying in one, but the proper hotels in the park are so very expensive—plus every hotel wanted us to get 2 rooms for the 4 of us, instead of letting us share. Let’s see: $300 for 2 nights or $1,000? Wasn’t a hard decision. We met so many people, most of them European. I don’t think Americans in general like the idea of such coziness. I must add that this was a very nice lodge; it even had a bar that every evening hosted “Happy Sour,” 2 for 1 Pisco Sours. Not too shabby. I ended up really enjoying our 2-night stay at the lodge–despite seeing a pudgy Belgian guy wearing only underwear get out of the bunk bed across the room on the second morning. Just part of the adventure.

It seems all the people we met at the lodge that first evening had a story about seeing or not seeing the peaks after they had hiked a very well-worn trail up to the supposed “viewing” sight. Robb and I discussed whether we should do the hike and risk not seeing anything. Maybe it would be too frustrating for the boys—with no pay off at the end.

We woke the next morning to find that the snow had stopped and that the mountains weren’t quite as socked in as the day before. We decided to go for it. The trail wasn’t too hard, really. Maybe I can say that because I had something to compare it to (the Inca Trail) and because we were at such a lower altitude. Our veins were churning with red blood cells doing their business.

After an hour and a half, we made it to a little restaurant shack on the trail and stopped for hot chocolate (a reward/bribe to keep the boys chugging along). We met two young women from the States, who had climbed up to the viewing spot first thing in the morning and were disappointed because there was absolutely nothing to see except swirling cloud molecules. For some reason, we didn’t let that deter us.

A little bit farther up the trail, we met a woman who had turned around before the viewing area. She had met some people coming down who said the last bit of climbing was too slick; they’d fallen numerous times and showed her their tattered pants as proof. Still, after all that shredding and scraping, they hadn’t seen anything. The woman was so disillusioned she retreated. Again, for some reason, we kept going. I told the boys to think positive thoughts, so that the clouds would move away from the mountains at least for a little while. Jeb raised his walking stick and started to do what he called a sun dance. All of us joined in. Couldn’t hurt, I thought.

Toward the end we hit a very steep part that was littered with huge chunks of rock. The snow made it all more treacherous. Robb said that it looked like Everest Base Camp. Hmmm, I thought, this is like extreme mountaineering without the altitude. I caught climpses of the towers as I hiked and it looked like the clouds had broken. I scurried on ahead, thinking we were just near the top and wanting to catch a clear view. But when I got to the next rise, I saw that I WASN’T near the top. The trail went on. This happened three more times (thinking we were almost there, only to find we still had more to go).

Finally, I came to a sign that said: “End of the Trail.” And there was a little canyon with a milky green pond and rising above was an almost full view of the towers. They were certainly impressive. They looked as if someone had been carving skyscrapers that would be shipped to Manhattan and then got called away. We just sat there in awe on some chilly rocks for a while with about 20 other people who had made the trek, waiting to see if the sky was going to clear any more. Instead the wind picked up and we tucked behind a rock to eat our picnic lunch. Cold cuts, anyone?

So, I guess we won the Torres del Paine game. Not a slam dunk, but still we won, according to local scoring criteria. But even if we hadn’t seen the spires, we would have won. Really, it is such a pristine, breath-wrenching spot—with jagged mountains (even those you don’t have to hike to; the ones visible from a drive through the park) and lakes that look like puddles of spilled sky. I read somewhere that this place is considered to have the purest air in the world (have no idea how they came up with that), but Robb and I figured out why. The air moves so fast across the land—truly some of the fiercest wind I’ve even encountered—that it doesn’t stay long enough to get sullied.

Speaking of the wind, that became another game. The boys loved pushing against it with arms and legs spread, to see how far they can lean forward without falling, and loved trying to set a land speed record by running with it at their backs. We were just happy that they didn’t take off and end up somewhere in South Africa.

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