Trekking in the Fuegian Andes

Our first trek was a relatively easy overnight hike to Laguna Esmeralda. We had good weather, the lake was a beautiful turquoise color and tasted delicious, and the bogs were nothing too severe. We saw quite a few people on our hike, but we had the lake to ourselves at night. We stayed up late watching the endless sunset (you can really see how much more slowly this part of the globe is moving) and enjoying the solitude.




Speaking of solitude, we didn´t see a single other person on our second trek. In our guide book it was listed as a four day¨"demanding" trek. I figured it would take us five or six days and we brought enough food to survive eight. I also figured it would be demanding the way a good teacher is demanding, but the demands took on more of a General Patton flavor as we went along.

First of all, there was very little in the way of trails. We would find the occasional cairn going over a pass but mostly it was bushwhacking. The few trails we did find often took us to some godforsaken beaver devastation area (more on that later) and vanish, leaving us to fend for ourselves. The map turned out to be not much better than one scribbled by a pirate on a napkin at a bar. In the areas where the topography became most important, the topographical lines went from solid forty meter definitives to hazy dotted two hundred meter impressions. I guess they just haven't surveyed that area, or if they have they are keeping it close to the vest. Luckily I have done a lot of bushwhacking in the Sierra Nevada of California (especially last summer with Mike Grafton) so I was able to figure it out. I did get us lost a few times in the first couple days, not world spinning in circles, wailing and gnashing of teeth lost, but a little disconcerting nonetheless.





The landscape, having been similarly carved out by glaciers, is a lot like the Sierra Nevada. It has dramatic granite peaks, long steep-sided valleys, beautiful lakes, and fast-moving rivers. It is also quite different. On the plus side, it is much lower -- we didn´t get much over 3,000 feet above sea level, so altitude was not an issue. On the not so plus side, unlike the Sierras, the Fuegian Andes get a lot of rain (and hail, we discovered) and are littered with bogs. A veritible bogosphere as Hilary put it. Deep muddy leg eating bogs, spongy peat bogs that take more energy to walk on than sand, and the byzantine tree-strewn bogs created by our friend the North American beaver.





The beaver is not supposed to exist in Tierra del Fuego. I am not sure who introduced them or why, but I have some pretty strong words for whoever did. Perhaps it was for their fur which is pretty popular in cold climates. Hilary and I speculated that a pair of beaver pants would be pretty comfortable on those cold wet Fuegian nights. On the east coast of the U.S. I have seen beavers and beaver dams and some swamped up land around them, but it always seemed pretty benign and small scale. But here, perhaps because they don't have natural predators, or perhaps because the carved out landscape works to their advantage, the beaver activity is totally out of hand. We have seen beaver dams undulating across entire valleys. Absolute fortresses of sticks and mud and lodges rising eight feet out of the water. Entire beaver kingdoms. I have seen no animal structures and few human structures so impressive.


Perhaps even more daunting than their construction is their destruction. Acres of trees reduced to pencil stubs, downed trees everywhere and acres more killed and turned ghostly white from the inundation. The land that still exists becomes an untrustworthy sludge where the only thing that grows is swampgrass and a vicious thorn that breaks off in your hand and beds down to become a rather painful souvenir of the encounter. Not much fun to travel through, to say the least. Unfortunately, I didn't get many good pictures because I was too busy soaking my boots, poking my hands, and composing newer and harsher strong words. And the worst part is we didn´t get to see a single beaver unless you count the skull Hilary found. We speculated that they may have been sent here from outerspace to destroy everything and are now back aboard the mothership laughing highpitched little beaver laughs at their job well done (trekking brings out the odd conversation in one.) I have grown in respect for beavers but I like them less.



Speaking of growing in respect (not that it needed much growing), Hilary was amazing. It was a hard trip and we both had down moments, but every time I thought I had got us lost again or was worried that the hail would pile up too high or thought, "What am I doing bringing my wife out into this?" she would smile or point to some flower and say, "Isn't that beautiful?" and my courage would return. Turns out she has a real gift for trekking. Despite its difficulty and probably partly because of it we had a wonderful time. The Fuegian Andes are incredibly beautiful and wild and I loved being in them with Hilary. They tested us both and Hilary certainly passed with flying colors.