Las Glacieres National Park/El Calafate
Possibly my favorite part of the trip was seeing the glaciers. They’re just . . . stunning. The mountains that rise on all sides look cut from a Japanese ink painting – all black and white, and infinitely dramatic. Beneath the zebra-ed mountains sits the glacier, shimmering oddly blue before a lake. We got postcard perfect view of it from a set of balconies, or platforms, set on the side of a mountain.
The glacier we saw, Perito Moreno, is bordered by a large lake on one side. When the glacier grows so large that it extends from bank to bank, it creates a dam. The blocked water rises to the tree line, and if any of the water manages to slip up under the ice, it begins to lift it up and erode it, making ice tunnels. This glacier is famous because it moves. It grows and shrinks in the seasons, and even as we watched it began caving: little avalanches of snow announced by a noise like a prolonged thunder boom.
Perito Moreno is named for the man who never saw it. Argentina and Chile were fighting over their border: Argentina insisted that the boundary line should be marked by the mountains’ highest points, while Chile claimed a river should designate the border. Moreno, through some means (digging, or explosives, or other techniques) forced a different river to shift its course. With this he proved that a river was an unreliable boundary. Argentina got the land it wanted, and Moreno got a glacier.
Our next stop was a boat ride up to the glacier itself. Surprisingly, cows ate on the banks, undisturbed by the giant table of ice. The glaciers, like a bulldozer, shove the earth before them as they move, making hills of fine, almost powdery rocks, and larger jagged stones. Devoid of grass and plants, the land is like a natural junkyard. Glaciers bulldoze over mountains, too. When this happens they sculpt the mountain, as if the glacier was a giant nail file, shearing and tearing off the top, and leaving behind the classic fin shape.
The glacier ice by the land isn’t pretty; it’s dirty, like city snow, from all the sediment blown onto it from the shore. We hiked through these earth piles, and into a woods. The trees were huge but many lay collapsed. One guide told me the culprit was very thin topsoil, combined with strong winds. At our previous mountain, we saw calafate plants, the namesake of the town we stayed in. It’s a small, spiky plant whose berries are used in ice cream, jams, and alcohol. In both places a type of whispy green moss-like plant, called Old Man’s Beard was visible on the trees. According to our guides, it can only grow in air where there is no pollution.
The glaciers are perhaps the purest place on earth. No plants nor animals live on them, save a small type of insect. When walking on them, you can snap off a piece of the thin ice that tops rivers in the glacier, and eat it, and if you were to drop food, the 5 second rule could stretch into 5 hours or more.
At the end of our hike the guides gave us hard candies, harnesses (to help them lift us out in case we fell into a crevice in the ice) and crampons. The ice near the edges of the glacier moves more quickly than the ice near the center, I assume because it is has more surface area exposed to the sun’s heat, to water’s currents, and to anything else the land can offer. This causes pressure and fissures, or crevices. People do fall into the crevices and die (thanks to harnesses, the guides could pull us out). Throughout our walk, our guides would stand right at the edge of any hole, prepared to catch us and keep us safe. I have no idea what would keep the guides alive if we stumbled into them. These men did have astoundingly sure footing, leaping and running on the ice while we tourists trudged along. (That they work 8 days in a row, before having a 2 day break surely has something to do with this.)
On the ice glacier itself, our crampons seemed to slot into the ice as if the shoe was one side of Velcro and the glacier the other. There is no real snow on the glacier, just ice and it makes a crisp, crunchy noise as you walk. (In comparison, the thin ice on the rivers has more of a tinkling sound as it breaks). On the return journey when I took off the crampons, walking felt so light and carefree. I was clumsy, tripping on rocks, because I no longer had to pay attention to where I put my feet.
There is water in the glacier, sections of rivers or lakes near the surface, where the ice has melted. Each part has a thin ice covering, and gleams a neon blue so vivid it seems unreal, like antifreeze or mouthwash. That was one thing I noticed, as I tried to describe my journey: all my vocabulary degraded it. The glacier was like antifreeze, brush dotted the hills of Patagonia like a rash of pimples. I compare to what I know, and nothing I know is sufficient.
The whole trip, I was astounded by the glacier, and the mountains. The captivating expanse of dazzling white and a blue so unknown it seemed artificial. The mountains surrounded us on all four sides, their sharp planes of snow covering forest so dense it looked black. And yet all the while I looked at the mesmerizing scene, the back of my mind wondered if our ancestors appreciate the snowcapped mountains, or if they only saw cold and harsh and an obstacle to climb? In a way, seeing beauty in a cold, rough land feels like a modern luxury. From the safety of my world of airplanes and bus systems, I can afford not to worry about the challenge of a winter climb.
Vegetarianism, too, is a modern luxury. Thanks to an abundant supply of tofu, lentils, and milk and similar products, I can avoid meat and not die. I can even be healthy. Some people say we should eat animals because our ancestors did and so it’s natural. It’s true that in a world without veggie burgers, you got your protein where you could. I’ve always believed in the right of a species to exist; some argue vegetarianism in all cases, but I would never suggest starvation as an alternative to eating an animal. If it’s me or the turkey, the turkey dies. But for the middle class, vegetarianism is an option, a valid option, and that introduces a new kind of morality. In a world where your body and your wallet can afford not to kill an animal, where do we justify choosing otherwise? I don’t mean to preach, and at the moment, I eat meat, but I think it’s an interesting discussion. But, back to glaciers.
It was surprisingly warm being on a glacier. We were lucky not to have wind that day, which helps, and is an uncommon situation. Wind sweeps snow down from the mountains where it turns to ice down here. I was hot at times wearing a T-shirt, long underwear with snow pants, gloves, and a sheet-of-plastic quality rainjacket.
We stopped for lunch on the glacier, and the guides, who were wonderful and made frequent jokes about leaving us to die, gave us hot tea and nut bread. Nearby was a field of what looked like tombs of ice (there is a French name for this formation, but it escapes me). I had heard you could drink glacier water, and began trying to scoop ice into a plastic bottle (the water brand ironically advertised itself as “fresh from the mountains”). Seeing my pathetic attempts, one guide walked over and, taking my plastic bottle, plunged his bare hand into a river to fill it up. Glacier water tastes, honestly, like nothing. Cold, and free of any chemicals or minerals.
On the boat ride back, they gave us whiskey with glacier ice. It was sweet, spicy, and syrupy, and it being Argentina, they gave us alfajores, too. I dipped mine in.
(The glaciers are 300-500 years old, by the way. I think that’s interesting, but found no smooth way to slip in).
Sunglasses want to be Philosophical Too
Sunglasses are an interesting invention, I think people like them, besides the obvious, because they’re a way to keep your surroundings at bay and domesticate the world. The make me feel detached from life, so I generally hate them. I heard they were a must for glacier hiking, so, too cheap to buy polarized, I grabbed a pair dark enough to make me feel unsafe walking in Buenos Aires. They were pretty handy on the glaciers, I’ll admit, though I didn’t wear them the whole time.
El Chalten
The second day we went to a popular hiking town, called El Chalten. For the longest time, I couldn’t remember what it was called, and just said, “We’re going to the mountain.” People stared it me like I was crazy, because in the Andes, you’re surrounded by mountains. There are a plethora of hikes, from 3 hours to 7 or more hours. The truly dedicated will camp overnight, others have to take the bus back by 6pm (Traveler’s Tip for you there). Apparently a small type of deer inhabit the area. Nature’s little joke is that these endangered deer are almost too cowardly to live. If they hear a dog bark or see it’s poop, they’ll flee. If a tourist rushes after them to take a photo, they’ll have a heart attack and die. They can’t drink from the same water as cows, or the germs will kill them. Suffice to say, we didn’t see any.
The mountains here were pretty, as any mountains are. Behind the rocky brown-and-green mountains we climbed on, the snowcapped majesties loomed, like the backdrop on a theater set. At a few moments we could glimpse the glacier shimmering blue in the distance as if it had been photoshopped into the scene. Even now, it felt impossible that it really existed. (A side not on science; according to our guide, glaciers are so blue because blue is the highest frequency wave. Perhaps it’s actually because it’s so short. The many facets of ice would disperse the blue wave, just like gas atoms in the air disperses blue across the sky).
The town itself must be only 200 people, in brightly colored houses, generally selling arts, food, or hiking gear. We did two shorter hikes, the last one up to a peak to a bird look out (though we didn’t see any; It was not our day for animals). The hills are covered with blond tufts interspersed with bushes so round they seem cut from a children’s book, these dark green and purple-gray blobs looking like a whimsical flock of sheep.
Traveler’s Tips: El Calafate
Trips
We went to a small town, called El Calafate, where many trips leave from for the glaciers. The trips are well known in the town, and your hostel can help you find what you need. What I went on was called “Big Ice”. It cost AR $870 (which is the same price as the MiniTrekking trip offered by the same company).
Equipment
Don’t worry about winter clothes, you can rent everything here. For 100 pesos you can rent boots, snow pants, a winter jacket, gloves, and hiking boots. I bought a pair of thermal mittens in Buenos Aires for almost the same price. (you can get just boots for 40, and snow pants for 35). In general, what you need is waterproofing, not warmth. Walking builds up heat, and I had the luck to go on a day without wind. I was fine in a t-shirt, long sleeve shirt, and a very basic rain jacket. I did wear snow pants, which is important, because on my trip, you sit on the ice to eat lunch. Also, hiking boots seem useful, I wore them, and people will advise you to wear gloves, because the ice is sharp enough to cut your hands (I can’t confirm or deny this one). I do recommend sunscreen and sunglasses.
Travel
If you, like we were, are arriving from Puerto Madryn, there are two bus options. A brand new option is a direct bus, which I’d recommend. I didn’t take it, because it didn’t exist when we bought tickets. We took a bus to Rio Gallegos (17hours) and then switched to a 4 hour bus. Online, it looks like only 1 bus a day leaves from Rio Gallegos. This is lies and trickery; you will find several buses leaving throughout the day. Argentine buses are notoriously unreliable time-wise, and ours arrived 2 and a half hours later, making us miss our connection. Most other passengers seemed to just wait until they arrived to do that.
Water
Be careful about the water in Patagonia. In Puerto Madryn, our hostel host thought it would be fine, and I drank it with impunity but 3 friends got sick. One reported stomach pain, diarrhea, and constipation. Once she switched to bottled water, she felt better. In El Calafate the hostel told us not to try drinking it.
Food
One good restaurant on the cheaper side of what you can find, is 13 Gustos. It’s a s bit cheaper than anything on the main road, and they’re lentil stew is fantastic.
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