It was fitting to wind up my Patagonia adventure spending the longest day of the year — the winter solstice in the southern hemisphere — with what felt like the longest hike of my life.
Twenty kilometers, four of them gaining elevation and one of them spent almost directly uphill to the lagoon at the base of Fitz Roy. That was our target. We were starting around 1:30 PM, but we had aspirations to go all in. And despite a swollen Achilles tendon at the end, every step and all the hustle were totally worth it. This endeavor was awesome.
Fitz Roy was a new addition to the itinerary, thanks to my friend Emily’s sage advice to go to El Chalten for an overnight during our days in the Calafate region of Argentina. Chalten was folkloric to me, first introduced from reading Yvon Chouinard’s book, Let My People Go Surfing, a well-crafted autobiography that sketches the origins of the man as well as his world-renowned company, Patagonia. I happened to notice a poster in a local shop that featured Chouinard’s name, as well as Lito Tejada-Flores and the late Doug Tompkins, who all summitted Fitz Roy in their earlier climbing years. It was fun connecting dots in that shop, having a vague idea of the history, legends and terrain we were about to explore.
When we arrived in Chalten after a three hour bus ride from Calafate, we sprang from the bus station to our local inn to store our bags and get organized. While the days run long way down south, especially on the solstice, we knew we had 20 kilometers of new trail ahead of us and it was critical to maximize our daylight. Once we found our way to the north end of town, the signage for the Fitz Roy trail was undeniable. We were pleased by the few fellow travelers on the trail with us, and the subsequent silence that the trail would offer. The views along the way were stunning, though the miradors that typically provide great sight lines to where Fitz Roy rose, projected stormy weather ahead. We carried on, having come to town to do this regardless of weather or other potential obstacles. As we passed through the first nine kilometers, the final kilometer was notoriously steep and warranting an hour’s time to get to the top. We were very proud when we clocked in about 48 minutes instead (not that anyone’s counting, but we kinda were). Across a combination of steps, scree, pebbles and small creeks, we hauled ourselves to the lagoon and took in the 360 view around us. The clouds were moving in and it was snowing up top, but we caught the last few minutes to get a few photos before making our way back to town.
Emily and I both noted the gentle, quiet nature of the snow on our return. The snow fell gently and lightly enough so that tree cover would create white canopies above us. We were wet through our sleeves and the afternoon temp was cold, but bearable. Days before Christmas, the festive feel of the snow dawned on us. We were missing our friends and families during this season, but completely present and committed to being here instead (after all, no one had forced me to take a solo travel sabbatical or to share a few days hiking with a friend living in this beautiful region).
A white Christmas found us in the Andes at the base of Fitz Roy.
That night, we ate and slept well, nursing sore feet and being generous with stretches before crawling into bed. I was fond of Chalten for the adventure spirit intrinsic to its economy — the outdoor retail shops and trip agencies far outnumbered the hotels and restaurants, let alone any other enterprise. It had a subtle commercial edge to it, designed to attract the globe’s trekking community in pursuit of summits. But it also offered a quiet resting place in an out-of-the-way part of Patagonia. Chalten was not “on the way” to anything. One had to be deliberate in getting here. The Fitz Roy reward and all the underspoken charm of Chalten made the last minute plans addition worth it.
It was a brief overnight before we were waiting for our bus back to Calafate, and thereafter, our flights the next day to Buenos Aires (for me) and to Bariloche (for Emily, where she found home several months prior). Calafate was clearly the regional hub for transit, which developed more quickly as a result of the tourism boom from El Parque Nacional de Los Glaciares (PNLG). We were delighted to observe Chalten’s relative “sleepiness” in comparison, and hoped it would maintain for a good long while.