We took an early morning flight which dropped us off in Ushuaia in the early afternoon on Tuesday. It was a perfectly clear day for flying giving me an aerial taste of what I would soon be exploring. My heart was leaping up and down as I tried to maintain my composure in my seat. I imagined my heart looked something like the heart stick figures my mom likes to draw, but this one would've been jumping high in the air. I don't think I get visibly excited very often, but this was definitely one of those moments. We flew in over the Andes, which have left gaps for crystal clear lakes and ocean water. I was a little fearful of the small runway we had to land on; there was only so much concrete before the water took ownership again. But our pilot knew what he was doing, and placed us safely on the ground. Roughly 15 minutes after landing, Melanie and I had grabbed our baggage and were hopping in a taxi to our hostel (take that, American air travel!).
We made our home at the Freestyle "backpackers" Hostel. I believe this is a relatively new hostel, but everything about it was great! The facilities were extremely clean, the bathrooms had "cozy" lighting, there were heated floors, breakfast every morning, hot drinks all day, and plenty of space to hang out and meet other travelers. The upstairs lounge also had an incredible view of the port that was perfect for watching the sunset. On our first day, Melanie and I met Marion. Marion is from France, but is living and studying in Buenos Aires for a few months. As we were conveniently in the same room, we hung out with her a lot. Although she could speak English, it was a lot easier for her to speak Spanish, and of course Melanie and I need to practice more Spanish so we spoke a common second language for the majority of the weekend. A part from Marion, we met travelers from Brazil, Israel, Spain, Australia, San Francisco, and other parts of Buenos Aires. I love the cultural experience hostel stays bring and I am looking forward to seeing some of my new friends again!
As we still had a good half of a day left, one of the hostel workers (we call him "E-Man") suggested that we go on the penguin tour. Originally on the list for the following day, we took his advice and headed down to town square to sign up for the tour. We arrived in perfect time to jump on the bus that then drove about an hour away. If you've never experienced an off-road trip in a bus, I don't recommend it. The majority of the hour we spent driving was over an unpaved, rocky road, which you would think drivers would be more cautious over. Not this driver. But I guess thats all a part of the experience?
We took several stops before actually seeing penguins, which was great in curbing my car sickness. The first stop was a gorgeous lake overlook giving us a view of Chile far across the water. The second stop was merely so we could take pictures of the very interesting looking Flag Trees. At first glance, I thought these had just been damaged from too much wind in one direction, but it turns out that is just how they grow. Our next stop was at a whale boneyard, more or less. Basically, this company (run by volunteers) collects whale and dolphin carcasses and cleans them up to eventually be sold to companies and scientists for studying. Because this particular company does everything naturally, the process to cleaning one animal can take multiple years. First, they must decompose it until it reaches a skeletal form. Then, they soak the bones in rainwater and eventually boil them to get a little more fat off of them. In the end, several workers work by hand to scrap away the remaining flesh parts (this was a really smelly part of the tour). In the end, all the pieces are strewn together to recreate the complete skeletal body. This was definitely a line of work that I have never looked in to. To showcase their work, this particular company also had a small museum of whale and dolphin skeletons (at least I did something educational while skipping class!).
cleaning whale bones
After leaving the whale museum/boneyard, our group of about 15 or so took a small boat 10 minutes across to the Martillo Island, better known by us as "Penguin Island." The company we took our tour with, Harberton, is the only company allowed to actually walk on this island- so we had special privileges. The penguins were everywhere! Some just hung out by the shore, playing in the water, while others sat further up on the island shedding their feathers and watching the sunset, ha! Not being much of an animal person, this was truly a cool experience. We even got to see an Emperor Penguin, which usually live further south, closer to Antarctica. This one apparently was a younger penguin who didn't know the waters so well yet, so he got "lost" and wound up hanging out with a different type of penguins for a few days. I cannot believe how close we got to them, it was very hard not to reach out and touch them, however, we were warned that they might "beak" us. We were also told to contain our excitement, so we took out our excitement by taking way too many pictures of these little guys. We left the island just narrowly escaping the collision of two rainstorms, and headed back to the estancia for a little bit of tea before driving an hour back to our hostel for a little pasta dinner.
I think day two was my favorite. Melanie, Marion (our new friend from France) and I headed up to the Tierra del Fuego National Park to spend the day hiking. I've said it a lot about this trip, but it repeatedly proves itself again: I never know where I'm going- rather, I never know for sure what I'm getting myself in to. Hiking through this park, I had no idea I was about to experience the most incredible, natural beauty I have ever seen. I rarely use the term "breath-taking" for fear of devauling it, but there really is no other phrase to describe where we found ourselves.
We got off the bus around 11:15 and aimed to pick up the return bus at either 5 or 7pm, depending on our pace. The beginning of the trail had us hiking through a forest, one I imagine would be the inspiration for movies wishing to create a magical forest land (a lot of the scenery in Ushuaia reminded me of Disney movies, and I've heard Walt Disney actually spent some time in the Patagonia regions of Argentina...). The trees stood tall, with enough spacing to allow adequate sun to shine on the grassy ground cover, which was a vibrant green color. While our trek was just beginning, and our energy was running high, our pace quickly carried us forward, following the yellow guide posts along the way. When the trees cleared, the three of us came face to face with my favorite view, and one we would walk alongside for a large part of our journey: water. If you know me, you know I am absolutely enthralled by any water scene. But this was a place that a very small percentage of the population ever gets to see, and I could not get enough of it. I repeatedly asked myself, "Who sees this???" There I was, at the end of the world, in a park only seen by a handful of people gazing upon the most incredible scenery I could ever imagine. The vast ocean, embedded between the tail end of the Andes (but no less impressive), was devoid of contamination leaving it with a pristinely clear hue with the only addition of color being the perfect reflections of the mountains and sky. The only form of civilization located here was the very last post office in the world (although I can't imagine there's much incoming or outgoing mail). After getting my passport stamped with a cool "Ushuaia: Fin del Mundo" stamp for 10 pesos, we continued on our hike.
As we went on, I kept my gaze remained to the left keeping an eye on any change of scenery with in the ocean and the mountains. Occasionally we came across an overlook in the hike, making it impossible to stop taking pictures. We tried to capture it all on film, but the truth is, unless you were there, there is no way to possible appreciate the pictures we took. About 2.5 hours into our hike, we stopped for a "lunch" break of leftover bread and an apple (we weren't exactly prepared).
After lunch, and refueled with energy, I jumped down a small ledge in the path only to find I had startled a wild horse back into the woods! Being a little more cautious, we looked around the corner and found two horses grazing in the field, enjoying the day.
As our hike progressed, we dodged a few rain drops, our conversations got shorter and we were left with our own thoughts. The view changed to mainly mountains decorated in fall colors with little streams here and there, and, when we followed the map right, there were secluded lagoons. I have never felt so tiny in my life. Who was I thin this world, but a tiny, tiny speck of flesh. And yet, God has cared enough to design me, and call me by name, giving me a purpose and a point in breathing. This was the part of our hike of pure awe and thanksgiving to my Heavenly Father and Creator.
Now, through my awe and thanksgiving, I started feeling the sheer amount of time we had been hiking, and I began to notice the sun making it's descent. We only had a couple more overlooks to catch before we had to meet the last bus. We continued to follow the yellow guides (which at times disappeared), but just as I began to worry about our location, I was reassured of being on the right track. The final destination of our hike brought us to the end of Route 3, which as it's beginnings in Alaska (or the end, depending on how you're looking at it). With Rocky's theme song playing in our heads, we had reached the finish line...12 kilometers later (8 miles approx). All by foot. Let that number sink in a bit. Because thats.... A LOT.
It was about 6:30, so we had to wait for a 30 more minutes for our bus to come. But that was plenty of time, in conjunction with the setting sun, to realize just how cold the end of the world was. Besides the three of us, there was another couple waiting to be picked up, which also reassured me we were in the right place. However, their bus came first, and the poor lady was so sweet, she was so hesitant to get on the bus, not wanting to leave us alone in the middle of nowhere. But their driver reassured her, and us, that we would have a ride in 15 minutes. This kind woman gave us one last, sorrowful look (and later made the driver stop our closely following bus to make sure we were in there). Nice people do exist. But needless to say, I had never been happier to see our bus come for us. A hike above all hikes, above all experiences. I only wish my pictures did the journey justice.
Day three was a day of just bumming around, after we clearly had used all our energy the day before. It was good to explore the actual city of Ushuaia a bit, but there is really not much one can see, or really do. However, it was a much needed break before our next adventure: Hiking the glacier.
Well rested, Melanie and I were ready to take on the Martiel Glacier. At first glance, this mountain looked nothing more than a snowy peak, however it was indeed a glacier of which a large majority of Argentina's water is gathered. We had been told that the view of Ushuaia from the top was magnificent, so we were thankful the cloudy weather had cleared from the day before... except for one, intrusive rain cloud hovering above the glacier. Seriously, there were absolutely no other clouds in the sky, but being our last full day, we had to hope in the constantly changing weather Ushuaia is known for and we began our trek.
On of our hostel roommates, Mikel from Spain, told us he hiked from the mountain all the way up. So of course, if he could do it, so could we. We took a taxi to the base of the mountain, which brought us face to face with the massive body of rock it is. We opted to pay 68 pesos to take the ski lift up only a very small portion of the way. At this point, it had begun to rain, and the experienced hikers that we are (note sarcasm) had only dressed in jeans, a pair of socks, tennis shoes, and a few layers of shirts and jackets. We admitted we would undoubtedly be getting pneumonia (sorry Mom), but of course, it was all part of the experience. Thankfully, my host family had leant me a pair of gloves and a hat, but Melanie had neither.
Seated in our chair lift and facing our glacier, the rain, propelled by an awful wind, proceeded to freeze our faces and introduced us to that uncomfortable burning, yet freezing, feeling in our legs. Melanie and I were both questioning Mikel's all to daring idea to hike this mountain and we began to like the idea of getting off at the top of the ski lift, looking up for a few moments, and then riding the lift back down.
But despite my frozen state, my adventurous spirit and curiosity got the best of me. I did not come to the End of the World to simply look at this glacier. We embarked on this adventure, and now we had to finish climbing. Convincing ourselves of our abilities, we denied that we were already frozen, welcomed pneumonia, and set off to trace the trail to the top.
We first passed through a forest of leaf-less trees, which looked more like ragged sticks growing out of the ground (and would've been great for a Wizard of Oz forest scene). Leaving the forest, we followed the sign to the left pointing us in the direction of Martiel Glacier. We paused as a strong gust of wind nearly knocked us off the bridge we had to cross and briefly read an informative sign telling us that the part of the hike we were about to embark on as level "difficult." But words and warnings mean nothing until you test their validity yourself.
The trail was lined with rocks, and for a while, it was clear where those had traveled us stepped. The weather started to change and the wind got stronger, the rain turning in to a mixture of snow and ice pellets. My eyes began to water and then intensely burn from getting my makeup mixed in there, making it virtually impossible for me to see for a while. We paused behind a giant rock to regroup, as we were miserable, yet continued to laugh at what lie before us.
We continued on, finding ourselves in a vertical climb that appeared to have never been trekked before (what happened to our yellow guide??). There was one other couple, who at this point were very ant-like, but we looked to them as a point of reference. Eventually we caught up to half of the pair, as her husband had gone on ahead to investiage the rest of the route. This part was seemingly impossible. Melanie's shoes had very little traction, so she was literally crawling on the rocks. As we were at our lowest (figuratively) moment, we took a a second to evaluate our situation and whether or not it was worth it, or feasible to continue. It seemed the only way to abandon our mission would be to slide on our butts all the way back down. We seriously debated backing down, but that glacier was so close and I knew I was going to regret not making it to the top, so we carried on.
Following what the man a couple feet in front of us was doing, there appeared to be an actual marked path we had miss and should have been on all along. After leaving one casualty water bottle behind, which was dramatically noted as "not worth it!" we pressed forward. The designated trail made the going a little easier, but the letting up of typical mountainous weather really saved us.
Despite our doubts, Melanie and I finally made it to the base of the glacier, and our pride could not have been greater. Of course, being on a mountain, I tried to yodel in celebration, but surprisingly heard no echo. We turned around to reflect on our steps and we met the most incredible view looking down upon Ushuaia, which still had sunshine and blue skies blanketing. Once again, I felt like the tiniest ant amongst goliath mountains, valleys, and glaciers- but what an incredibly humbling feeling. I am nothing, but yet something so important to God. I can't get over that.
After taking some victory pictures, and spirits lifted, we headed back down the mountain (this time following all the right signs!). However, when we got back to the ski lift dock, the worker kindly informed us that, while he hoped we enjoyed our hike, we would have to walk the rest of the way down. The wind was too strong, and as a safety measure, the lift had been closed. Go figure.
Walking down was more like running, due to the nature of the incline, but at least the weather was in our favor this time. Once at the bottom, we took one more look at where we had come from, and decided a pizza was well-deserved.
We conquered the Martiel Glacier.
I apologize for such a lengthy entry, but the adventures were too exciting to keep from you! So if you stuck with it, you're amazing! This weekend, I'm headed a bit west to the Mendoza area. So until then...
-Courtney
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