Leap of Faith

Hola de Patagonia!

As many of you know, Joy and I headed down to Patagonia with theintent of bonding with some glaciers. The extent of that bonding wasyet to be determined. So, upon our arrival in El Calafate, we headed straight to the center of town to speak with representatives from the various travel agencies who provide a whole repertoire of glaciertours, including: boat tours, balcony tours (just transport to and from the main lookout points), mini-trekking (a short hike and ice climbing adventure with crampons), as well as BIG ICE (a full 7 hours trek including 3 hours of hiking to and from the glacier and 4 hours of ice laden fun). We went directly to speak with the premier tour company here called Hielo y Aventura (Ice and Adventure) as they were highlighted in our guidebooks. Our decision-making criteria included: photographic opportunities, the physical demands of the excursion, the entertainment or interest value, and of course, the cost. Joy and Ibeing at least slightly type A were sure to weigh our options thoroughly, based on as much information as we could gather (sadly the internet, the guidebooks, and even the brochures all seemed to lack sufficient details).

We spent about 30 mins grilling the travel agency rep on the value ofdoing minitrekking versus big ice as well as our ability to handle it. The rep seemed to have little concern for our ability and suggested that big ice would really allow us some more quiet time on the glacierand very pretty "walks" in the forest- as there are far fewer people who join this particular tour (this should have been a red flag). She asked us no questions regarding our age, physical ability, health nor did she provide any liability waiver for us to sign after we finallysettled on "BIG ICE." With a swipe of our credit card, we were allset to go. The only thing left to do was to pick up some supplies as Joy´s shoes were deemed unacceptable for the journey as were herpants. We were told that we could rent equipment from boots towaterproof pants at a local store. I have to say I´m quite impressed that they allow you to rent equipment at all and don´t choose to gouge tourists (forcing them to buy totally overpriced trekking gear that most people will never use again). Quite the opposite, in fact. They don´t seem all that concerned with making money here at all-- and at times, stores just seem like fronts for mere socializing withneighboring shopkeepers. The concept of "sales" doesn´t really seem to be applicable here.

Joy and I were both exhausted in the morning as neither of us had slept well the night before, nervous about oversleeping and anxiously excited for our next day´s activity. But with our sunglasses, sunscreen, waterproof pants, jackets (mine being Gore-tex and Joy´s being her old gap rain jacket that we both have from high school), gloves, hats, ear muffs, and lunch boxes in tow, we headed out to thetour bus (meeting up with some great people we had met up with the night before- Courtney, Samantha, and Mitch) as well as eventually adding on 5 more people to the tour- for 10 in total. Unfortunately,the day started out rainy and windy and was showing no signs ofletting up. When we finally made it to the glacier viewing point (our first glimpse), it was so foggy, rainy, and windy, that only a small bit of the glacier was really visible. Despite the lack of visibility, it was still marvelous enough to inspire us to stay out and soak in the sights and sounds of the glacier. The sound of the glacier breaking (which has almost become addictive) has been described by many as closely resembling the sounds of lightning andthunder- first you hear a crackling-like sound and then a strong"boom." Joy and I have added a few more possible descriptions below:
- a type of snap, crackle, pop effect like rice krispies but on a muchgrander scale
- like waves crashing onto the shore
- like a breeze developing into hurricane force winds that start torattle physical structure in its path

Sadly, the rainy-windy weather was not letting up and the trail (whichhadn´t been described as much more than a forest walk) was filled with steep inclines on muddy gravel and click loose stones. Furthermore,the guides, as it turns out, weren´t doing much guiding. They barely spoke English (note to self: a serious language barrier between you and the people who are responsible for you life is NOT a good idea) and oftentimes, were together at the front of the heap as opposed to staggering out with one at the front, one in the middle, and one at the back to bring up the rear. As far as I know, this is tour guide101- especially in any situation that might be somewhat dangerous. Alas, it was not to be. The rain was streaming down and the wind keptwhipping at us, making it difficult to see more than a step in front of us. Perhaps that was a good thing though, for if I had a clue what I was about to climb, I think I would have backed out. Actually, this is true for the entire experience-- but more on this to come.

Only about 45 minutes through (maybe half way to the start of theglacier), the trail got increasingly steep and the ground beneath us felt muddier and less steady- there was a rope hanging off of the sideof the mountain that we were supposed to grab onto to stead yourselves. However, the rope was too high and by reaching for the rope, you barely could keep your feet on the ground. I grabbed therope briefly before trying to quickly step up to the next "steady-ish"piece of land. As I went to step down, my entire right leg began to sink, engulfed by mud. If this wasn´t quicksand, it was certainly the closest thing to it I could imagine. My leg actually felt like it was being sucked in my the mud. Thankfully, my other leg was on steadier ground above me and somehow, my instincts kicked in and I put as much pressure on my other leg as possible while I tried to recover my otherleg from the mud. Honestly, I have no idea how I did it, as the guides just stood there above me staring blankly - if not borderline ready to laugh at the whole situation. Finally I made my way out and as upset as I was, just kept moving as I realized that no one couldreally help me but myself. The other tour group members asked me howI was but I basically shut down- my body became increasingly unstable and wobbly and I was nervous with every step, fearful of the same situation reoccuring. I just kept trying to focus on each step but itwas hard not to be both terrified and also angry at the apparent incompetence or disregard of the tour guides. At this point, Irealized going back over that spot seemed scarier than going forward so I had to keep moving. This was the only thing that powered me through.

Before getting to the "rest point" before embarking on our actual ice trek, we still had to pass through a waterfall and climb over rocksand a rain-soaked wooden footbridge. Thankfully, the tour group had begun to rally me- giving me extra moral and physical support when needed. Alas, 45 minutes later, we arrived at a tent for our brief pause before the glacier walking tour was to begin. I just sat onthese makeshift wooden benches in the tent debating whether I could possibly handle the rest of the excursion. Of course I didn´t want tohave come this far and NOT walk on the glacier but at this point I had lost faith in my body´s ability to handle such stress as well as the guide´s ability to actually rescue me if I were to need rescuing. Furthermore, the wind and rain made the whole experience seem ratherdaunting, less enjoyable, and certainly less conducive to photography-obviously one of my huge motivators. As everyone ate lunch in the tent, I just debated in my head whether or not to go for it andsomehow I came to the conclusion that I just had to keep going. Atthis point, however, another couple abandoned the tour as theyrealized this was too much for them (the girl was getting over a coldand the hiking on real land had already exhausted her)-- one of the three guides took them back. And so, we were down to 8. And 2 guides (if you can call them that).
Harnesses were put around our waist and thighs before heading out ofthe shelter. It is still not clear what these harnesses were for aswe were never connected to each other, to a rope, to our guides, oranything else for that matter. Ah, safety! We still had a prettysteep downhill hike to get to the point at which the mountain actuallymeets with the glacier. Here we set on a piece of dead wood to getour crampons put on- (we had been carrying them with us in ourbackpacks). As we waited our turn to get the crampons tied on, the wind got so bad that both Joy´s and Courtney´s ponchos actually ripped to shreds and flew off of them, covering the pristine glacier withbits of blue and yellow plastic. How wonderfully environmental of us! This was enough to send Courtney back as well. We were now down tour final 7! It was starting to feel like Survivor.

Here we were given approximately a 30-second demo of how to walk with crampons: walk uphill in a "V¨ with legs spread apart, walk downhill with legs parallel and knees bent (think seven dwarves singing hi-ho,hi ho . . .) And that about sums up our instructions for the rest ofthe day. No safety protocol, no practice, no nothing. Very reassuring. And so that was it, we were off, no turning back now. We began our ascent onto the Perito Moreno Glacier, trying as best aspossible to use our very brief instructions. Besides for the wind,the actual walking on the ice seemed surprisingly easy. In fact, it felt easier than walking on land- there was a sense of security that came with using your foot to jam pieces of metal into the ice to steady yourself. And more than anything, I just wanted to feel steady. Fortunately, as we began walking further up and into the heart of the glacier, the sun started to peak out and the rain ceased. The sun felt so good that it powered me in a way that I couldn´t imagine. My body was basically experiencing the equivalent of nonstop stairmasteron ice-- I can´t even do the stairmaster at a lovely, temperature controlled gym. However, my body somehow found a strength, an energy,and a peace that surprised even me. I began to enjoy seeing theglowing blue pools of water that gathered in the crevices between theice. Even leaping over rushing rivers of glacial water seemed to be as entertaining as jumping rope or playing hopscotch when you´re a kid. Every once in a while, I would realize what we were doing andexperience a brief moment of panic, but for the most part, I was able to enjoy the moment, in that cheesy zen-like manner that people talkabout but I had yet to believe was really possible (at least for me).Sadly, the guides proved no more useful as the day went on and kept apace that was not at all conducive to breathing or taking photos! Fortunately, the tour group (spread out as we were) did stop to takephotos and basically forced the guides to stop along the way- butnever enough as our bodies needed or our souls.

The texture of the ice closely resembles shards of glass- thus, our gloves could never come off despite our desire to "touch" this wondrous piece of nature. Seeing blue ice (created by the fact thatthe ice is so compressed that it takes longer for light to passthrough it) and pools of light blue and deep blue water - from gushingrivers, to little pools of gahered water, was endlessly exhilirating. At certain moments, I found myself running on the glacier-- feeling asense of freedom I haven´t since prancing around Yellowstone NationalPark a few years ago- also abandoning my fear of heights. Climbing a glacier felt in many ways like climbing the Sand Dunes of Namibia. Funny that things that seem as dissimilar as possible feltlike two halves of the same entity. And of course, the beauty of both seems to dwarf most anything I can imagine. Even when my legs felt like they could not possibly withstand any more, the glacier itself seemed to give me the strength to continue. Was it my survival instinct, actual harmony with nature or maybe it was just the terrifying fear of being left on a glacier all by myself- who knows?Regardless, it worked and I was taking it all in- from the taste of the glacier water to the visual of peaks and valleys and jagged edgesof ice in blue and white gradations all around me. At some point however, the physical strain returned again as we were about 30 minutes from stepping back on"dry land."

The last 30 minutes had intense period of straight uphill climbs,where pausing for a moment felt like too great a risk (as you couldimagine yourself falling straight down). The guides also had to keep testing different routes to see if the ice was solid enough to pass on(perhaps the most they did to ensure our security throughout theentire tour). Joy and I agreed to just go at our own pace and let thetour group move ahead. We had our own buddy system and felt confident that we could get through as long as we just kept moving, regardless of our speed. And this is the way we proceeded through the remainderof the trek from ice and back to land. Thankfully, this time around,much of the path had dried significantly and the ground seemed a bit more solid underneath our feet. However, with most of our tour groupand guides out of sight and no trail markers at all, the remainder of our trek was still filled with some trepidation. However, enjoying the forest trail at our own pace with no one around the disturb us wasprobably one of the highlights of our adventure. As we finally caught glimpse of the end of our journey, there was a sense of complete triumph for having schieved what we did-- SURVIVAL-but also a bit of sadness for leaving the beauty of the glacier behind. Only moments later, however, we were presented with whiskey on glacier ice and could only laugh at the sheer insanity of it all. I´m not sure this really gives a proper end to this story-- but suffice it to say that it was one helluva day! And Joy and I could clearly make some serious money here by putting together a photo-friendly ice trekking tour complete with safety protocols, restbreaks, on demand rental gear (to replace shreeded ponchos), and maybe even some kind words of encouragement for those doing their best tochallenge their bodies and minds.

Note: As a result of aforementioned adventure, Joy and I cancelled our El Chalten excursion and have decided to stay in El Calafate, enjoyinga bit more rest and relaxation that was originally planned.


Con mucho amor,Leah