A Gluttony of Views: The Fitz Roy Hike

The Superior Race

Inspired, happy, anxious, we rushed to the only hotel/hostel/a-place-with-a-bed in town, The Rancho Grande, to stash our backpacks. Because it was such a small town, the bus dropped us off right at the front door. Since we had no idea what the hell we were doing in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by snow-covered mountains and glaciers, in winter, we decided to explore as a group. We met the Irishmen, Seamus and Justin, the German girl, Kristina, and Alex at the common room with our daypacks and coats (it was still very cold). Allison had originally decided to take it easy the first day and then go hiking tomorrow, but then quickly came to her senses and realized there might be no one left for her to go hiking with tomorrow.

We dove into the Lago de los Tres trail, taking the lead of the Europeans, which was a terrible idea. Justin and Seamus were freakishly tall with legs twice the length of mine, and Kristina had more energy than both of them combined. We immediately faced a steep ascent that they strolled through like it was the Yellow Brick Road, whistling silly Irish and German folk tunes. (At least, that’s what I was imagining since I was nowhere near them.)

This was especially troubling as I normally consider myself an able hiker. Back home, my quick pace often leads me to hiking alone and meeting the other person or group at scenic overlooks. But out here I was simply being schooled. At first, I didn’t know what was happening. Why was my heart beating so fast and why was I sweating so much? How come those other guys with funny accents weren’t sharing in my misery? Was I really this badly out of shape? I took off my coat (which helped) and stuffed it into my backpack (which didn’t) and continued up a series of steps that had been cut into the hill. At some point I realized a clear divide had naturally formed. This whole time I had been looking up at the buttocks of the Irishmen and the German, when the rest of the group — Kelly, Alex, Allison — had dropped out of sight. Thankfully, we came upon our first overlook, where I expired and waited for my dear American friends.

The view from Lago de los Tres trail in El Chaltan, Argentina, with the Rio de las Vueltas cutting through the center.

The overlook presented a gorgeous panorama of the El Chalten valley, brown with patches of snow, with the Rio de las Vueltas cutting through the center. In the distance, we saw the blue and white peaks that seemed so alien-like on the flight over. We were barely out of town but could sense that the land, like the entirety of El Chalten, had this “under construction” vibe to it. You can just tell that in a couple of years (or, gasp!, months!) there will be something else entirely – resorts, wax museums, abominations such as putt-putt courses and tube rentals– in the same spot we were now staring at. Indeed, El Chalten was “built” to provide access to these famous trails (hence the trails were so close to the hostels and accommodations) just as in only a few years El Calafate is now solely a launching pad for the Perito Moreno Glacier. These towns and the people that now call home are an entirely different specie than anywhere else, as the daily ebb and flow of their lives depend solely on the months of the calendar. It was interesting, and I felt lucky, to be here before it all went Dollywood.

The Europeans were anxious to keep moving. After our short break, we watched them blaze through the rest of the mountain as if the first 5,000 steps we had just climbed was a warm up. I stopped trying to keep pace. For the rest of the hike, we would only meet them at overlooks and questionable forks in the trail while the rest of us maintained a calm, tolerable pace.

Later, we would get details that there were parts when they were just running through the trail – ice, snow, and all – leaping from rock to rock (“to keep the momentum going,” Justin explained). Never had it been made more visible to me, and in such a natural progression, which the superior race clearly was.

• Next: The Quest for Views