Third Trek in Patagonia - Torres del Paine: With Summers Like This, Who Needs Winters?

February 17-21, 2008

Trek Three in Parque Nacional Torres del Paine

(Amber)

Torres del Paine is a world famous trek and possibly one of the most beautiful places on Earth that we´ll ever see. But our bodies are really tired. Matt´s heel is in bad shape, and my left knee is basically done being a knee. It envies forearms, etc...that just sit there straight and do very little heavy lifting. I think we´ve clocked about 75 mountain miles so far in Patagonia, and this one was another 35 or so. We´ve been going non-stop really since we left home.....but especially since we´ve been so far south.

Nonetheless, the time came for the Torres trek, so we spent the day planning meals, packing, and getting ready to resume our lives a la pied.

Day One

(Matt)

The trek, which is (understandably) Chile`s most popular, began with an 8am bus ride to the Parque Nacional Torres del Paine, which is about 112 kilometers north of Puerto Natales. Once in the park, we paid our entrance fees and had to catch a catamaran across Lago Pehoe to the beginning of the trek known as the "W" (based upon the W shape of the route), which takes 4 to 5 days.

From Lago Pehoe, we hiked 4 hours to our first campsite near Glacier Grey, which is magnificently huge glacier, on the scale of Perito Moreno Glacier in Argentina. Once our camp was set up, we hiked to the point of the peninsula in Lago Grey closest to the glacier to get the best view. We had the point to ourselves. It was outstanding, though the winds were very, very strong (and really cold) coming off of the glacier and blowing across Lago Grey. After the Monte Fitz Roy hike, where we were blown and battered mercilessly for two days, we were somewhat accustomed to the conditions of southern Patagonia...or so we thought.

One added problem was that Amber`s knee was really hurting during this initial five hours or so of hiking. When we hiked out to the point of the peninsula, which was partially climbing, Amber was almost unable to do it because of her knee pain. I told her, "This is going to be a long week with that knee." Luckily we had purchased Ibuprophen prior to leaving Puerto Natales, and she was able to manage her knee pain during the rest of the trek by taking it regularly beginning on day two. Only a few times on days two and three did she complain about being unable to walk properly because of the knee.

After taking in the views of Glacier Grey, we went back to our camp and made dinner. Amber cooked up her milk and honey, which is beyond wonderful in those cold and windy conditions. We ate some of the pasta, which was VERY heavy in my pack. Eating well on a hike is not without some serious sacrifice with regard to your pack`s weight. Both of our packs were really heavy.

We assessed the status of my heel, which has not healed since our first trek in Patagonia, where I got a blister that, in retrospect, was very small. We have waited no longer than 3 or 4 days between any of the hikes, and the heel has never had time to mend. On night one, the heel looked pretty bad really, but I was not going to miss "one of the world`s classic treks" because of a blister (or actually three blisters).

Camp one was packed with tents along Lago Grey in a certain defined area near a refugio building. It also required payment, a feature unique to Torres del Paine. Not all camp sites in the park require payment, but Refugio Grey charged us about $14 US Dollars for the night to pitch our tent.

In all, Parque Nacional Torres del Paine was not cheap to visit. While the time spent in the national parks in Argentina was very cheap--we were not charged admission fees for the parks, and camping was free--Torres averaged us about $60 US Dollars per day to camp, including the transport costs of the boat and the buses.

Day one ended with both of us falling asleep in our tent by about 9pm.

(Amber)

We were on a bus early in the morning, which took us through beautiful Chilean countryside, which is almost all ranch land outside the national parks, to a catamaran. Then we boarded and rode another hour or so to the trailhead. During this time, we saw the bluest lakes you can imagine anywhere on Earth, a whole family of condors (10 to 20), guanacos, sheep, black necked swans, eagles, hawks, and many more other beautiful birds. We are in bird country for sure. I loved seeing the wildlife and was especially happy to know that the pumas have a virtual smorgasbord (mostly guanacos) and have no real need to tangle with two stinky hikers.

One note about the lakes here.....our photos can in no way do these lakes justice. They range from your standard Central Texas looking lake to bright turquoise, to deep blue, to milky blue. Oftentimes, on the ride and on the trek, you look around to see two or three different lakes...all vastly different shades. Any one alone would be striking. Together they are spectacular. When the planet was formed, special attention was paid to making this park a highlight.

Seriously, while I hope we see things throughout our lives that rival its beauty, I can´t imagine we will ever top it. Now onward and upward....

Day one of the hike, we walked toward Glacier Grey. The walk was up and down along beautiful lakes, through a mountain range, and through one valley. It was exhausting (because day one always is) but not too bad....except for the wind. We mentioned the wind in Fitz Roy. Well, if Fitz Roy wind is the little brother....Torres is the angry granddaddy. We were literally pounded by cold, rainy wind all day long. But the scenery for such a beating was world class.

We arrived at the camp, set up our tent, and walked another couple of hours to the main mirador (viewpoint in spanish) for the Glacier and back. My knee at this point, even on more Mgs of Ibuprophen than the law should allow...or does allow....is done. So getting up and around the granite spires to the viewpoint in the wind (which really requires some agility to keep you on your feet...and come to find out, agility on your feet means lots of knee movement) was painful for me. But mind boggling and wonderful. Remember that I´m a glacier snob? Well....Grey gets an A+. And we had the place virtually to ourselves while visiting the mirador, which made it even more incredible.

We went back to our camp, which sat near the base of the Glacier with a view of a lake, which boasts HUGE floating ice pieces, made dinner, bundled up, and passed out.

Day Two

(Matt)

Despite turning early the night before, the morning of day two began at Refugio Grey with a late start. We ate some oatmeal and hardboiled eggs (later discarded as inedible) and started hiking at 11am. For Southern Patagonia, the weather was fairly mild in the morning. Though there were high winds, I hiked most of the morning wearing only a short sleeved shirt. This was due in large part to the fact that day two, which begins by backtracking from Refugio Grey to the campsite at Refugio Paine Grande on the shores of Lago Pehoe, begins by ascending for almost the entire hour right out of the gate. Our bags were still exceptionally heavy at this point, and I had a sweat built up within the first few minutes of the hike. I quickly shed all nonessential clothing.

After 3.5 hours, we arrived at Refugio Paine Grande. By then, the sun was shining, and the wind was still blowing. As we approached the campsite and ranger station, exiting the valley toward baby blue Lago Pehoe, we were pleasantly surprised to find that the entire Cerro (Summit) Paine Grande, the beautiful mountain range on the cover or our guide book, Trekking the Patagonian Andes, and our map for Parque Nacional Torres del Paine, was fully exposed in all its glory. While disembarking our catamaran the day before, we had not even seen that there was a mountain there at all due to fog and clouds.

According to the Chilean national park service, which interestingly is at odds with our guide book, the Paine Massif is small mountain system completely independent of the Patagonian Andes range [Note: if true, this would technically make the title of our trekking book a misnomer]. It formed 12 million years ago when granite penetrated a crack in Magellan´s basin. Subsequent glacial activity and millions of years of other geologic events resulted in a two toned mountain range that is unique and immediately recognizable as being part of Torres (Towers) del Paine. I was particularly excited to see the big mountain because we had been warned by the owner of our hostel that the weather is often so bad during the summer that we could be in the park for 5 days and not see the mountains at all, which was a disturbing thought for all the effort involved in getting there.

We took off our packs at the campsite by Lago Pehoe, snapped some pictures with the Cerro Paine Grande, and retreated briefly from the incessant wind to eat lunch in a structure built for that purpose. Each campsite, paid or free, has some form of structure, though usually very basic, to allow hikers to escape the rain and incessant wind while cooking. This one was the fanciest of all. It had windows and a door. After a short lunch of Maggi noodles and peanut butter, we picked up our packs and began what was to be another 2-hour leg to Campamento Italiano, which lies in the scenic Valle Frances.

Because this leg of the hike was probably the most spectacular of the whole trip, inviting photography at every turn, and because it was one of the easiest, the hike ended up taking us nearly three hours. In all of our time in Southern Patagonia, the afternoon of the second day of this hike was by far the most temperate, which complemented the scenery between light blue Lago Pehoe and the green of Valle Frances. The skies that afternoon were blue and the mountains completely unobscured, showing off stunning glaciers that seemed newly marvelous and strikingly different with each step we took along the trail that weaved through the lovely lenga forests and glistening lakes, such as Lago Skottsberg, which is a brilliant dark blue that contrasts peacefully with the powdery blue of the larger Lago Pehoe which is visible in the distance.

After about 5.5 hours of the most pleasant hiking of the whole trip, we arrived at Campamento Italiano, a heavily wooded free camp site in the Valle Frances. I set up camp while Amber cooked, which has become our routine. For dinner, we again ate pasta, though the flavor of the sauce was slightly different than day one. Thereafter, we walked down to the Frances River alongside the campsite and admired the enormous Glacier Frances, which overlooks the whole valley, being wedged between two peaks of the Cerro Paine Grande--the Punta Bariloche and Cumbre Norte. It often rumbled loudly, leaving thundering echoes rolling down through the valley to Campamento Italiano.

As the river crashed through Valle Frances, we stood on its banks and marveled at the mountains towering above. The valley had the glacier at its one end and, at the other, complex and intricate cloud formations coursing over distant mountains and the beautiful Lago Pehoe. As we looked around us, it was quite easy to justify any hardship or expense that was required for us to be here. We returned to our tent and inspected my heel, which had degenerated alarmingly during the day´s hiking. Amber was really worried, and it certainly was not looking good after only 2 of 5 days of hiking. But I told Amber the same thing I had told her when her knee was giving her problems, "We have to continue. We can´t just decide not hike `one of the world´s classic treks´because of a blister.¨

With regard to Amber´s knee, it had been surprisingly unproblematic during the 6.5 hours of hiking on day two. Amber only yelled out and then began slowly limping on a few of the longer downhill sections. Not bad! This behavior was almost constant at the end of the first day. She seemed to have a 2-hour window to walk normally without any medication, but this window was significantly extended with the Ibuprophen purchased in Puerto Natales. We turned in early and slept well.

(Amber)

We woke up the next morning to better weather. The wind had died down, and the sun was out enough that we were able to shed some layers. We walked back to Lago Pehoe, the trailhead where we started, at lunch, and turned toward our camp on night two, which was in the beautiful Frances Valley. We got clear skies and amazing views on this day. It was a fantastic day of hiking.

After all day on the trail, we arrived at Campamento Italiano and set up camp. Our tent was in the middle of a forest and sat right on a beautiful glacial river under two strikingly different mountain ranges...one covered in glaciers. See photos for our views. They were astounding.

We slept on night two with the sounds of high winds and rain beating our little tent. I was none too excited about what the next day had in store with this weather.

Day Three

(Matt)

During the night, we heard the beginnings of that familiar Patagonian sound, wind roaring through the tiny leaves of the lenga trees, like a stormy sea crashing violently along the shore. It can be unnerving to say the least. As you spend more time hiking here, with the tenacious and unrelenting winds, you can hear especially large gusts coming from far away. There is a certain roar that comes upon you when the edge of one of these exceptionally large and powerful swirling typhoons is approaching, and you can begin to predict the arrival of a large wave of wind by the punctuated roar of the lenga trees and ñirres, which are smaller beech trees that look more like bushes. This is helpful for bracing yourself for a cold blast of wind and closing your eyes so that they are not filled with debris or slapped by your backpack´s straps. This anticipation, however, begins to wear on you. The mere sound of the roar begins to create its own torturous effect, even when you are in the tent unaffected by it directly. You start subconsciously bracing yourself for a chilly blast of Patagonian wind whenever you hear that distinctive roar through the trees.

That is how day three started, with the arrival of the high winds at some point during the night. The roar. Then before daybreak, we heard the sound that no hiker wants to hear, the tapping of rain drops on the tent. The tapping sped up to a light rain that continued until the sun came up over the cloudy valley. Based upon the rain and dark skies, Amber speculated from the warmth of her sleeping bag that our plan to leave our camp set up and to hike up to the mirador above Campamento Britanico was probably shot. Shortly after breakfast, the rain stopped. But after a short hike out of the campsite, we confirmed that Amber´s suspicions about the clouds covering up the mirador at the top of the valley had been correct. In fact, as we stood there discussing the situation and the alternative plan of attack, a storm began rolling over Cerro Aleta de Tiburon into Valle Frances.

We packed up camp and began a 7.5-hour hike. As we began, we initially dealt only with the wind. But after an hour and half of hiking at a pretty spry pace, the storm caught up to us and added rain to our circumstances. As the storm gained on us, the wind became colder and its gusts more violent. The sky darkened, and the rain fell more heavily.

After 2.5 hours of hiking from Campamento Italiano, we arrived at Refugio Los Cuernos and realized why they are called "refuges". We went into the shelter to hide from the rain and frigid wind and bought a couple of coffees. As we sat there for about half an hour, we watched the storm worsen though the large windows of refuge facing part of the mountains called Cuernos del Paine. The wind howled outside, and the rain hit loudly against the glass, reminding us that we were only prolonging our inevitable march through the storm. With each minute, the rain fell harder, and the wind blew stronger. We still had 5 hours to hike. Weather patterns, especially harsh ones, can last for days here. We learned that well in Glaciers National Park. Plus, the longer we sat inside the refugio, the harder it would be to force ourselves to leave the warm and cozy environment. So we bit the bullet, walked out into the rain and hurricane-like wind, got our rain gear out of our wet packs, which had to be left outside along with our shoes, struggled against the violent gusts to put on our rain gear, and then began our hike...only to lose the trail less than five minutes later.

Minutes after leaving the refugio, I looked up and found myself on a mossy, slippery rock overhanging the icy waters of Lago Nordenskjold. The wind was exceptionally powerful at that moment and was blowing me towards the ledge. If blown off, the fall itself certainly wouldn´t have killed me, it was only about 15 feet or so, but the water´s temperature would have sent me into hypothermia very quickly as a struggled back to the shore. Plus, I would have had that heavy backpack to contend with after the fall. These thoughts passed quickly through my head, and I logically concluded that I did not want to be blown into the lake. The environment was so loud and chaotic that Amber couldn´t tell what was going on and was about to follow me out onto the ledge. I was just able to yell back to her over the storm that we had lost the trail and to go no further. At about that time, an Israeli couple walked up. They apparently followed us in the confusion and were now lost too. I yelled to them over the wind that the trail did not lead down to the shore of the lake, as it had earlier in the day, and that we needed to walk towards the mountains to relocate the trail.

After scrambling around comically in the wind and rain for a few minutes, at times clinging to shrubs to stay upright against the insane winds, I finally found the trail, but not before we had climbed over two large hills and unnecessarily expended a lot of energy fighting the wind. Literally a stone´s throw from the refugio--we could actually see it while we were lost--we were panting and sweating before we began hiking through some of the most grueling weather conditions of the trip.

After about an hour, we left the rain. The sun even came out, but the conditions were brutal. It cannot be overstated how powerful these winds were along the lake. I was blown over numerous times. At one point, a blast of wind threw me over. I caught myself on a rock and immediately turned around to see how Amber had fared, since she much lighter than I am. The gale of wind had lifted Amber off of her feet and thrown her body, pack and all, down the trail like a rag doll in a tornado. She was rolling along screaming when I saw her. She looked at me expressed something emphatic about the weather not being safe, to which I responded something like, "Yea, I had noticed that." During this part of the hike, I had to laugh at some of the most extreme gusts of wind because hiking in these conditions was absurd. "Hey, it looks like a tornado out there, let´s go on a 5-day hike." We were both bludgeoned by the wind for most of the 7.5 hours of hiking day two.

At some point during the day, we passed a couple of hikers traveling opposite us that mentioned something about a "perilous" river crossing. After they were gone, I dismissed this as the opinion of lightweights. I truly doubted that we would consider it a "perilous" river crossing. The day before someone had warned us of a dangerous bridge that was perfectly safe. So when the second person said something about it, I was even more convinced that this was only perilous to the uninitiated. So you can imagine our surprise when we came over hill to find a Patagonian traffic jam at what was, objectively, a perilous river crossing. There were probably ten hikers standing on either side of this raging river. When you consider that we probably had averaged seeing about two people, going one way or another, every half hour or so on this, the most popular trek in Chile, you can see why we were surprised at this sight. As we got nearer, we (like the others) had to take our packs off, sit down, and try to wrap our minds around what was going to be required to proceed down the trail. We would have to wade knee- to waist-deep in an icy cold river (check), in our hiking boots and socks that would remain wet for at least the rest of the day (check), and the only thing preventing us from being swept away to be ground up by the river and then deposited into Lago Nordenskjold via a waterfall was a rusty wire attached to three rusty stakes driven in between some of the river´s boulders (check). Sounds good.

We developed a theory about the crossing after watching two guys with very different techniques and who had very different results. The first guy got the closest to being swept away of anyone else that I saw. He let himself get far downstream of the wire and into deep water that came almost to his chest at one point. A smaller woman in the same place would have been ripped off of the wire for sure. He was a husky guy and held on, but his pack was wet, and he had been in some danger. The next guy, who had to do it three times because his girlfriend refused to carry her own backpack, had developed the better strategy, staying near the wire and on the highest stones until reaching the knee-deep portion in the middle. Amber carried her own pack.

Amber and I decided that we had watched enough and went to cross at the same time, which turned out to be our biggest mistake. At one point, I crushed her fingers when I grabbed one of the metal stakes that she was already holding. I went across and talked Amber through the rest of  the crossing, but I forgot to pull out the camera and photograph her in the middle of the river, with rushing water almost to her waist. Once across, we found that we had to do it again across a smaller river. This time I went across ahead of Amber and took a short video of the crossing on our camera.

Once across, we walked in our soaked boots for about ten minutes and sat down for a lunch break of tuna and peanut butter. The tuna was strangely similar in texture and smell to cat food, and we were unable to eat it. So we just sat in the wind, in our wet boots and socks, and ate peanut butter crackers and laughed about the day.

It was at this moment that I look up and told Amber, who was being a really good sport about all this, and said "You deserve some kind of award for being the coolest wife in the world." I have to say that while preparing for this Patagonian hiking trip, I figured it very likely that I would have to go it alone at some point. And that was when I thought that the hardest aspect of Patagonia was going to be hiking and camping. In reality, the physical and emotional toll that the weather takes on you is really the hardest part. You find yourself enjoying hiking and camping in spite of this extremely inhospitable climate.

Amber, as it turns out, is completely hardcore. In the face of some seriously adverse circumstances, she has stayed very positive. In fact, I don´t know many people, male or female, who would have endured some of the things Amber has endured in the name of trekking. For this reason, early in the trip I stopped viewing Amber a potential roadblock to my trekking in Patagonia and began viewing her as an asset and a teammate. She is more vocal about her feelings and emotions, but I don´t worry about having to convince her that the pain and discomfort is all is worth it. And she can do it all.

After we finished our "lunch," we continued along being battered persistently by the wind along the lake. Around hour number 5.5, we arrived at a crossroad that would become significant a few hours later. We could either go left and uphill for 2 hours to Campamento Chileno, which was much closer to our goal the following day, the Mirador Las Torres, or we could continue straight and flat for an hour to the camp next to Hosteria Las Torres. We decided to spend night three at Campamento Las Torres and night four at Chileno. As it would turn out, this was a very fortuitous decision.

We arrived at camp haggard. The Torres camp was very strange compared to the others. It was on private property ten minutes down a dirt road from a fancy hotel. Cars and shuttle buses streaked past our tent until after dark. The camp site was clearly set up for "car camping," and we felt out of place, though there were other hikers stopped over at the Torres campsite overnight. I was anxious to get back up to Chileno and away from the cars and hotel. We ate pasta (again), looked at my hideous heel blister, hung up our wet boots and socks, and went to bed. I felt great other than the heel. If the weather was good the next day, we were going to get up early, hike to camp Chileno, set up our final camp, and then hike to the mirador.

(Amber)

I woke up on day three and forced myself to face my enemy....the great outdoors. While Matt packed up, I went into a makeshift shelter to make breakfast. Since the weather here is so harsh, most camps have set up some sort of shelter to cook in out of the wind and rain. When Matt came and found me, sitting on a rock in the dirty shelter stirring oats with a dirty spoon....and surrounded my similarly disheveled backpackers, he said it looked like I was in some sort of safehouse for insane addicts. I guess, to a certain extent, it was.

We ate and started our hike for the day, which we estimated would be anywhere from 6-8 hours. We knew the weather was horrible, but we didn´t know how totally it would govern our day.

Long story short, the scenery was amazing....the rain and hurricane force winds were not. Many times, Matt and I had to hang on to each other to keep from being blown off of a mountain or into a frigid lake. We`d have to grab trees, rocks, thorny bushes....anything solid. We had to assume a stance similar to a lineman all day long....which was tough on the knee. We were both knocked down many times. One time, I was thrown about five feet and landed on a huge rock. We passed an Australian late in the day. He quietly said as he passed....I´ve had more fun....Well put. It was awful. A true beating. Made the wind at Fitz Roy look like a sissy.

Matt kept thinking of Patrick Swayzes...She´s Like the Wind. And all I could think was that the road wasn't rising to meet me, nor was the wind at my back. It was ludicrous. And I am forever changed in more ways than one regarding music and poetry.....when Bono crooned In the howlin wind, comes the stingin rain....to me on the bus yesterday, he seemed more like a prophet than ever. He just gets it, you know?

After many hours of pummeling, we got to a fork in the trail. We could go two hours up a mountain to a camp that would get us closer to the next day´s destination...or go one hour, rest, and do the mountain the next day. We were beat. Knee and heel were bad, wind was insane, and we decided to get some rest. Turns out, it was a great decision.

In the middle of the night, Matt got violently ill with some sort of food poisoning. Guess my mountain kitchen probably doesn´t meet health code. OOPS! I really try to keep things relatively clean, but come on....

Day Four

(Matt)

At about 2am, I woke up, walked out of the tent and vomited for the first time. By 6am, it was all I could do to unzip the tent and lunge half way out before I began retching violently. It was unusually calm and peaceful in the the camp. So everyone around us was awakened each time I started throwing up. I knew it was food poisoning because I have had it several times before. At some point during the night, Amber said, "We are not hiking tomorrow." This wasn´t news to me though. From the first session of puking, I was wondering how I was going to even stand upright the following day, much less hike. I was very fortunate in two regards: (1) Amber had heavy duty prescription anti-nausea medication in her bag and (2) we were at the only campsite in the park that allowed you to catch two buses and be back in Puerto Natales. Had we gone to Chileno, I would have had to stay up at camp Chileno another night because I would not have been able to walk two hours back to the bus stop. It was hard enough as it was...to walk ten minutes to the bus stop.

Amber took care of the details. She found a phone in the hotel, called our hostel to make sure they had a room for us, since we were a day early returning, packed up the tent and our bags while I laid on my back on the ground in the campsite trying not to throw up, and carried my bag to the bus stop. My only job was to not vomit on the other nice passengers. Actually, I had to talk to some of the bus employees to figure out what we needed to do without vomiting on them also. That was pretty difficult.

We got back to town without incident. And, luckily, our hostel owner happened to be pulling out of a parking lot in front of our bus when we arrived, and he gave us a ride. It was only a few blocks, but to me it seemed like a million miles away.

Once back at the room, I forced myself to shower and shave. Then I proceeded to lay in bed for the next 15 hours. I woke up the next day feeling much better, but set myself back by eating a large dinner and drinking wine that night. The following day, and the day following that were pretty queasy.

It was a great hike, even with the wind, rain and food poisoning. I would certainly do it again. Day Four was a perfectly clear and beautifal day. The mirador would have been spectacular, and it was disappointing to not be able to finish the hike there. From our last campsite at Torres, we had perfectly clear views of the Torre Sur, Torre Norte, and Cerro Nido de Condor, the same peaks that you view from the mirador, but I was so sick that could not even enjoy it.

(Amber)

I´ve been around for a LONG time and only heard him this sick once before. Had we been up on the mountain, we would have really been in a pickle. But thankfully, for the first time this hike, we were within half an hour of transport. And even the thought of how to get him there was daunting.

I woke up, packed up camp, moved him to lay in the grass and packed up the tent, and we hobbled to a bus back to Puerto Natales. I medicated him heavily with the nausea meds that I packed with myself in mind since I´m generally the family puker, and then I spent yesterday running errands while he recouped. Good news is that he´s back in action today and has agreed that maybe his body needs a break.

Final Thoughts

(Amber)

The hike was amazing....it was stunningly beautiful. It beat us up, but we really had fun together and will never never forget the raging river crossing, wind beatdowns, blisters, food poisoning, endless skies, blue lakes, glaciers, and jokes that cracked us up because only we got them.

After spending the better part of a month on a trail, I have come up with some really deep theories. For example, I firmly believe that hiking is like pancake making. The first pancake is raw and rubbery and the last is burned. On day one of every hike, your legs refuse to easily submit to their new, brutal reality. One the last day, they are burned. I honed this beauty while clinging to a blade of grass and praying not to be blown into an icy cold lake below. Pancakes are never far from my consciousness.

Animals we saw....

• huge red fox
• golden eagles
• several types of hawks
• guanacos
• black necked swans
• jackrabbit
• rheas
• crested caracaras
• so many other awesome birds who shall remain unidentified 

For all of our photos, click here: http://share.shutterfly.com /action/welcome?sid=8AatmbZk0Zt FG80