Hikers at Laguna De los Tres Trek in El Chalten, Argentine, Patagonia
Hikers at Laguna De los Tres Trek in El Chalten, Argentine, Patagonia on cold and cloudy day.
Hikers at Laguna De los Tres Trek in El Chalten, Argentine, Patagonia
Hikers at Laguna De los Tres Trek in El Chalten, Argentine, Patagonia on cold and cloudy day.

Nature Always Wins When Climbing Ice to Laguna de Los Tres in Patagonia

Even before we arrive in El Chaltén, we know we’re in for an immersive experience. The mountains in this region of Argentine Patagonia surround you, their narrow summits covered in ice stab the sky. It is other-worldly and seemingly unspoiled by modernity. El Chaltén is a small town whose only real purpose is to serve adventure-seekers like ourselves. There are children who walk home from school but it is clear that their parents are likely employed by the tourism industry.

Our first day we hike to Laguna Torre. It is a beautiful trek. Fog rolls in through the mountains and spreads itself upon the valley you hike through to the iceberg filled lake created by a small glacier. It does not disappoint, and yet we were not ready for what came next.

On the road to Laguna De los Tres Trek in El Chalten, Argentine, Patagonia
On the road to Laguna De los Tres Trek in El Chalten, Argentine, Patagonia. Mount Fitz Roy in the distance.

The following day our plan is to hike to Laguna de Los Tres, which is known for its spectacular view of and proximity to climb Mount Fitz Roy—a mountain that kills climbers every year. While we are not professional climbers, we plan to hike up the steep face of the trail heading up to the view of Laguna de Los Tres because, at the time, conditions seem right. We are in for a rude awakening.

As the hike continues, we pass through different landscapes that feel like wholly contained ecosystems. Each turn in the trail feels like its own planet. I am totally lost in the scenery, it’s like a drug. The light of this place is like nothing I’ve ever experienced. It creates deep contrasts, with dark ponds reflecting bright snow and green trees. Leafless branches are stark against the thick, white fog. The eyes sometimes struggle to compute the visions are you are seeing.

There are some glaciers around every corner. Ominous mist rolls in and out. Much of the trail is muddy and treacherous, but I don’t care. This place has a beauty and calm serenity unlike anywhere else. It helps that there are few hikers on the trail and me and my partner get to experience some real, genuine solitude.

A beautiful river forms the green Rio de Las Vueltas valley.
The “mirador” (viewpoint) overlooking the Rio de Las Vueltas valley.

But for now, as we begin the hike, it is magical. One of your first views is a panorama of snow-covered peaks, deep red foliage, and a crystal lake that struggles to torrent through the valley. This is only a short climb up the steep trail and immediately as you leave the town you are transported into another world.

It is actually difficult to describe this full day of hiking. It went by like a dream, a psychedelic trip that smears the images and memories in my head with a saccharine filter of bliss. I recall fragments, moments of purity and austere beauty around every corner. The vistas are improbable, almost incomprehensible.

World after world, finally we reach the mountain we have to climb. It’s about a mile, but straight up, and it gets more dangerous the further you go. About halfway up the weather starts to turn. Wind howls. The cold pierces through our gear. More and more snow gathers as we ascend. There are a lot more people now, struggling to climb the mountain. Most are woefully unprepared. A couple of Iranian tourists wear nice clothes that are not made for hiking, let alone climbing a mountain. As we get closer to the summit, it becomes difficult for us to keep going. Even we don’t have the right equipment. We expected a steep hike, but we don’t have the climbing material necessary to traverse this snow-covered mountain.

When it gets to the point that it is dangerous, we decide to head back. The fog thickens and we can’t see what’s in front of us. The ice is slippery and there are no rails or anything else to protect us from falling down the face of the mountain. When we ask someone who summited, they say that the fog was too thick to see Laguna de Los Tres anyways.

Descending is, of course, harder than climbing up. We did not get to see the view or finish the trek, but we are not disappointed. Adventure is not about the destination but about the journey, and this journey was nothing short of spectacular. In a place so daunting, awe-inspiring, and foreign, nature always wins. Instead of risking our lives, we hike back to town and have a few drinks, marveling about the experience I will surely never forget.

Ryan Beitler is a journalist, writer, and blogger. He has been published in Paste Magazine, New Noise Magazine, The Slovenia Times, Deadline News, OC Weekly, his travel blog Our Little Blue Rock, and more.

Please share or leave a comment below:

Share on facebook
Facebook
Share on twitter
Twitter

If you enjoyed this story…

Please make a small donation to help us with our cost and keep Scott caffeinated. Even $1 helps or an encouraging comment below. (More ways to help.) 

Thanks to everyone that has helped us make dreams come true for the past 20 years!

More stories like this

Rim Trail, Grand Canyon Village, United States

How my teacher helped me live my life

By Cindy Trillo Location: The Grand Canyon I grew up in Tucson, Arizona, the second-largest population center in the state. It can be tempting to think your home is boring or pedestrian, and for a long time, I did – I grew up in a suburb, went to school in a typical district with a

>

You must be enjoying our site!

Join our quarterly newsletter
to get news, premium content and discounts.

Join now and get 25% off your first order.