Part 2: Snow, Scree, and Sketches – Embracing the Elements in Los Dientes

Part 2 of the 2024 Ultimate Staff Contest Blog Series

(Read Part 1 Here)

As far as we could see, the trail ran across the side of the Laguna, suspended high above it. Below was the gorgeous alpine lake, and beyond was our first clear view of Los Dientes: sharp and jagged. We were both stoked – the adventure had begun… but so did the wind. We descended down to the lake only for a moment before we climbed up a waterfall and began rounding up and over a pass towards our first campsite. With the wind gusting and rain starting to sputter, we both were covered head to toe in rain gear. We happily shouted to each other in the wind, pressing our bodies forward to resist being pushed back. I couldn’t help but laugh, we were fully embracing the wind and all elements while in these jaw dropping mountains and clear blue lakes. 

There came a divide in the trail – or rather in the boulder field – that could have easily been missed if you didn’t know to look for it. We had decided to add a few miles to our route to get to Laguna Windhond. To do so, we continued south rather than heading west, clockwise on the circuit. It was only another two miles, lots of mud, and a little bush whacking before we made it to camp for the night. We were content with the sight: level, mostly dry, and in the trees protected from the wind. We sat and ate our first dinner, staring out at the mysterious looking mountains that stood before us. 

Our first day was complete. We had hiked about 10 miles and 1,000 feet of elevation gain. At this point, we were feeling good, despite how many people we encountered that had turned back. We wondered if the German couple had made it out, and if so, were they camping ahead of us or behind us? 

While we ate Cuban rice and beans, we discussed our travel plans for the next day. There must have been five different options that we came up with before deciding that we would not go all the way to the lake due to unknown weather conditions and excess mileage that could prevent us from completing the original circuit. Instead, we would pack a daypack and hike to Monte Bettinelli, a mountain that overlooked Laguna Windhond and Cape Horn. The steep hike up was worth it. We were greeted once again by strong winds that kept us far from the edge. We soaked up the glory of it all. 

Here, I took a moment to let it really sink in how far south I had come. Flying in an airplane can be like riding an elevator: you don’t realize how far you’ve gone because all you have to do is sit or stand there. Now that I was on my feet, working hard to cover distance and living amidst the harsh elements of the environment, it all felt much more real. Out in the distance there was nothing left but the ocean and Antarctica. I was thousands of miles away from any place I called home, out here on one of the most epic treks my feet had taken me on. 

With mileage to cover and camp to pack up, we headed back down to our site. The wind was to our backs so it felt as though we were flying down, scraping the surface of the scree field. 

Day 2 of hiking was excellent. The sun was out, the wind was only lightly blowing, and the views were outstanding. Lakes kept appearing – each one was so bright and blue. The trail was unique in that one moment we were hiking over boulders, high up on the mountainside, and then the next we were hopping on rocks along the edges of lakes. We stopped to take photos, eat some snacks, and enjoy the route before getting into camp early in the afternoon. Our campsite was nestled right by the lake on a small piece of land. People had built up rock walls to help mitigate the wind, so we chose the most sturdy looking one. 

I took time to sit and paint the landscape in front of me. Painting or sketching the views I come across while traveling is one of my favorite things to do. It is so hard to capture the beauty, but it gives me a chance to slow down and notice the details, making note of if the peak is smooth or jagged, if the ridgeline has a pattern, how the water meets the land, where the flora starts, and how the clouds move in the sky. Then, when I look back at the painting, I can remind myself of the atmosphere I was in when I created it. 

Further into the evening the winds began to pick up. With our tent fully secured, we got in our humble abode and settled in for the night. We did our nightly routine of talking, laughing, and discussing tomorrow’s plan before our teeth brushing and flossing. My head hit my pillow (which was made up of clothes stuffed in a sack) and I was out for the night. 

The next morning I woke up to first the gusts of winds blowing against our tent, the sounds of light rain, and then to my surprise, a lighter pitter-patter. 

“Jake, I think it’s snowing!” We quickly unzipped the tent doors: his facing the lake and mine the mountains. Sure enough, there was a layer of white on the earth’s floor. It looked as though someone had stretched out a thin layer of wool and laid it on top of the landscape. The fat flakes falling assured me the land would soon be covered and the snow would dominate the day. We stared at each other in amazement.

“Expect the unexpected.” We were prepared for this. We knew it was a possibility, but after such a clear, crisp, sunny day yesterday, it was shocking that this much snow was now a reality. With excitement of the treacherous day ahead, we packed up camp and went on our way. As we rounded the corner, we spotted a green tent flapping in the wind and it was the German couple – Dan and Mel. I went over to chat about the weather and ask if they needed help packing up. They were not as stoked about the snow as Jake and I were, but they were still ready to push onward. We would continue to follow each other on and off throughout the day. 

Almost immediately after leaving them, Jake and I lost the trail. With the snow covering the ground, there was no sign of footsteps. Instead, we were searching for cairns (that were also getting covered in snow more and more each minute). It was a wild feeling to loose our way – one second we were on the trail sure we were going the right way, and then boom. We were in the wrong place. To get back on the trail we had to cross a beaver dam, some muddy and marshy land, and bushwhack our way up a hill… and back down the other side before we found the pass we were meant to be on. 

When we finally found our friend’s footsteps, it was such a relief. We were only an hour into our day and we were already soaked from the soggy precipitation. I could feel the water starting to seep in through my rain pants, mostly from the branches we had to go through that were covered in heavy snow.

Following the footsteps and cairns, we marched our way up the next pass. The snow stopped for a minute and the clouds parted to reveal another half dozen stunning alpine lakes in front of us. Ahead of us lay a ridge we would walk along past all of these lakes and through the forest. We trekked onwards through the mud and snow, talking when we could, but mostly listening to what the wind had to say for most of the hike. 

We passed a good selection of campsites, checking them out as we passed them, but the more it snowed, the further we pushed on. Because of all the rain and snowfall, most of them were a pool of water – which of course was less than ideal. We wanted to keep at least some of our things dry. 

Finally, we scrambled up a little hill and to the left of the trail was a perfect campsite. There didn’t seem to be any completely dry options at this point, so while the ground was a bit wet, we were grateful to not be setting up camp in a puddle. There were trees surrounding us, which would provide a bit of shelter and help if the winds picked. 

So, like a race against ourselves, we put the tent up in what must’ve been 4 minutes flat. That was the easy part. Then, it was the maneuvering into the tent which was the challenge. We agreed that nothing wet was allowed to enter the tent. Every layer of my clothing was soaked through, but soon I was in dry clothes, inside a dry tent, nestled on top of my wonderfully cozy (yet stinky) sleeping bag. 

Despite the cold and wet day we had had, our spirits were still high. But we also knew we should really think through our next steps. We had planned to spend two more nights out here. However, after realizing that we would likely be putting back on our same wet layers of clothing in the morning, we began to consider hiking out the next day. As much as we wanted to spend more time out there, we knew it was the smart thing to do. Nothing would dry overnight and it really didn’t seem like the snow was going to stop. 

Turns out our decision to hike out early was the right move. The snow indeed did not stop, and we woke up to an additional 3 inches. Mel and Dan had camped right next to us that night and we were all on the same page: we would have one more long, wet, day, and hike out – this would have us completing the circuit in just 4 days. 

Now, this day was hard to write about. It was possibly the most epic day of trekking I have done thus far in my life. This was most certainly not the most “perfect” day for hiking – it was dumping snow, we had a lot of elevation to gain before dropping down a mountain side (down across a lake, into the muddy slippery forest, across a river, through a beaver land) and then would finish it off with a grueling few miles through a dense forest with fallen trees that prevented us from hiking on any kind of trail that may have once existed. But this day will live in my memory as a day that required skill, perseverance, and a good attitude. 

After safely completing our trek, we found ourselves in dry, warm clothes sitting at a cafe, taking in the scenes of this small town and reflecting on our time on the trail. The town is home to just 2,100 people. Many have called it home for their whole lives, others have moved onto the island because they enjoy the peace and slow pace of life here down south. The community was so welcoming and hospitable, and we felt incredibly grateful to have had this experience. 

By Mariah Reinke, WA Trip Leader