By Grace Fowler (Colby College)
Excited to embark on our next backpacking trip after foul weather thwarted some of our plans in Fiordo Bernardo, we packed up our trusty pickup trucks and drove south to Villa O’Higgins on the morning of February 28th. The seven-hour journey included scenic mountain passes, beautiful blue rivers, and an hour-long ferry ride.
We arrived at our hostel, El Mosco, in the afternoon and the group split up to relax at the hostel or to explore the town of fewer than 500 people. Settled in 1914, the town has experienced rapid growth in the last decade as a result of its placement at the end of the recently completed Caratera Austral. The road has opened Villa O’Higgins to an influx of tourists curious to see the spectacular landscape of the region, hikers headed towards Mount Fitz Roy and the nearby Argentine town of El Chaltén, or cyclists pedaling through from around the world. In the evening, we enjoyed hearing stories from seasoned travelers staying at the hostel, and a few of us who are traveling after the semester began dreaming up new travel plans. With the weight of senior year and graduation looming ahead, I was excited to talk to people of all ages who were taking time to travel and learn about the world.
We woke up early the next morning to explore the area and hike to a nearby glacier. Led by our guide, Tito, we climbed through gorgeous lenga (southern beech) forests and alpine meadows, across cold glacial streams, and over rocky mountainsides. Each step revealed new peaks in the surrounding mountains, and we ascended to incredible views of the Villa O’Higgins area. Three stray dogs from town followed us on our hike, trotting past us happily as we navigated the steep mountain. Avid animal lovers, we often inadvertently end up with an adorable wagging and slobbering fan club after showing strays some affection. They’ll do anything for some affection—even follow you up a mountain.
RRCS students and instructors hike with Hector (Tito) a local hiking guide in Villa O’Higgins. Photo by Adam Spencer.
When we reached Glacier Submarino, a small glacier tucked near the top of the mountain, we sprinted onto its slushy surface, threw snowballs, and drank fresh, cold water.
View of the Submarino Mountain (named for its submarine-like shape) and glacier, overlooking Lago O’Higgins and Villa O’Higgins (above the confluences of the Mayer and Mosco Rivers at the right of the photo). Photo by Adam Spencer.
The next morning, the stars lit our way as we drove to the port to catch our boat across Lago O’Higgins. Typically a tourist operation, the boat runs weekly services for the several dozen people that live along the shores of the large lake. After four hours navigating the turquoise waters and dropping off locals at their farms, we arrived at our destination, the peninsula of Estancia Ventisquero Chico that separates Lago O’Higgins from Lago Chico, and were taken ashore on dinghies. We were greeted with sopaipillas by our host, Misael, and spent the afternoon exploring the property, watching horses run by, and picking apples and plums from the branches hanging over our tents.
RRCS crew and CONAF Guardaparque Juan Carlos Alvarez drink mate in at their host’s home. Photo by Shalynn Pack.
Sunrise at Misael’s farm alongside Lago O’Higgins. Photo by Shalynn Pack.
Round River ventured to the Villa O’Higgins area with a diverse set of goals for a five-day backpacking trip along the Ruta Patrimonial Los Glaciares – a national heritage hike with close-up views of three massive glaciers. We collected data on the abundance of plants to establish baseline associations to later compare how they adapt to climate change, looked for signs of endangered huemul deer, and established photo-monitoring sites in areas of recent glacier recession to track what plants colonize these patches of Earth exposed to the sun for the first time since before the Ice Age. The area has been impacted by intentional burning and livestock grazing for nearly one hundred years and has experienced large amounts of glacier recession in the past century, making it a vulnerable area as succession slowly reshapes the land. Photos taken at the photo monitoring sites in the future will be compared to the photos from this trip to illustrate any changes in the landscape.
Another goal was to evaluate the safety of the Ruta Patrimonial and consider alternative routes. Due to our delay in Fiordo Bernardo, we had to abandon plans to cross Glacier Chico with the assistance of our CONAF guide, Juan Carlos, and the Chilean military. Though we were sad to not have the chance to cross a glacier, this change of plans turned out to be more beneficial to our analysis of the Ruta Patrimonial, as it is unrealistic for unskilled or unguided hikers to complete the route by crossing the glacier. Instead, we hired Misael to ferry us across Lago Chico on our second day of backpacking. This solution was much safer than attempting a glacier crossing and also begins to involve local community members in the development of tourism and conservation in the area, another long-term goal of CONAF and Round River.
Lago Chico’s chocolate milk colored water, a result of sediments from the glacier, was punctuated by icebergs of all sizes on the morning of our crossing. Misael ferried the group across the two-kilometer wide lake in groups of three, while the rest of us lounged on the beach and watched the small boat disappear behind looming chunks of ice.
Westminster University student James Maloney watches out for chunks of ice as the group crosses Lago Chico. Photo by Shalynn Pack.
After a few hours of waiting, I hopped onboard with Nathaniel and Olivia and zoomed towards the glacier. We slowed to avoid small chunks of ice and made our way through a maze of two hundred foot high icebergs, shining blue and white in the sun and melting steadily.
A map of the group’s route to the military refugio. Photo illustration by Adam Spencer.
We landed on a rocky shore, only uncovered by the glacier in the past year and still devoid of plants, and began hiking up the valley. Plant diversity slowly began to increase as we walked away from the glacier and lake and into areas that had been deglaciated longer.
The rocky shoreline where the group landed after crossing the lake, devoid of vegetation as only recently uncovered by Glacier Chico’s retreat within the last few seasons. Photo by Adam Spencer.
Colby College student Grace Fowler hikes up and away from Glacier Chico. Photo by Adam Spencer.
Cresting a sandy ridge, we caught our first sight of the jagged, snow-covered peaks of Mt. Pyramide in the distance, and stopped to celebrate the intense beauty of the mountains. I found myself deciding that this place was now the most beautiful place I had ever been. With each new mountain range and valley we explore, the views only grow more and more stunning.
The group celebrates their impressive view of Piramide Mountain and nearly reaching the refugio. Photo by Adam Spencer.
Though the dense forests and rolling bogs of the fjords were gorgeous beyond belief, the Glacier Chico region was awe-inspiring in its vastness and exceeded the vision of Patagonia I held before this semester. The wide valley framed jagged peaks to our right and the glistening glacier to our left, and our refugio for the next two days, a bright orange tube, nestled on the valley floor below. Turning our backs to the snowy mountains, we descended through a moonscape habitat towards the refugio and the promise of safety from the strong winds.