Argentinian Patagonia: Day 1 February 2020

So I met up with this jokester in Buenos Aires and the next thing I knew we were on a three and a half hour flight South to the bottom tip of the world; the other bottom-end where the sun doesn’t ever really totally surrender to the nighttime sky, which I had to learn the hard way at 1am, 2am, 3am, and 4am.

If you are reading this, then you know full-well I do not hike. Never have. Day 1 in Patagonia on a 20km hike gave me plenty of time and space to scroll back through the memories of my pervious outdoor adventures. It only took me less than 20 minutes and the most I could come up with was a two hour walk here and there, but nothing that comes close to today’s 8 hours — mostly uphill. 

I don’t know what I was thinking. I mean this is the literal sense; I do not know what thoughts of hiking I had in my mind before today. My mind is blank when it comes to the reality of placing one foot in front of the other while navigating trails, reading maps, accommodating sudden weather changes, organising how to feed myself, what I can carry, etc. Somehow it is not like it appears in the movies. Unless you consider my go-to movies for exploring the infinite possibilities of the great outdoors, like the fútbol team stranded in the Andes in “Alive”, or the fate of the protagonists in “127 Hours” or “Into the Wild”. Of course I am clueless when it comes to hiking, but I do like the accoutrements of hiking. Love a caribiner, headlamps, foldable water bottles, collapseable cups, sporks, and all the “fun-stuff” aisles in camping goods shops. 

As we hiked through thick semi-alpine forests, which gave way to open fields of scrub brush and crossed freshwater streams with logs lain across, I began to absorb the other sensations that regular hikes, campers, and outdoorsy people know come from being completely washed over and swept away by the play of light and shadow bouncing off of rocks, rivers and trees. 
The higher I climbed the smaller I became next to the mountains and trees and streams alongside me. The glaciers appeared stuck in motion, while the lakes pulsed aquatic blue, and in those moments, and for a welcome change, my insignificance was both comforting and reassuring. 

And being in the moment was as simple as inhaling the air, and feeling the sun burn me while the wind chilled me, and all the sounds of the insects, the birds, and the rocks and dirt crunching below my feet filled me with awe and wonder. 

Patagonia. Day 1 of 17.