O Trek, Torres del Paine
Chile
Seven days, six nights. No tour, no guide, no pack animals.
Day 1
Distance: 20.4 km
Ascent: 1,215 m
Descent: 1,215 m
Located in Torres del Paine National Park in southern Patagonia, the W Trek is the most popular multi-day hike in Chile. Named for the shape the trail makes on the map, it takes trekkers past pristine lakes, massive glaciers and jaw-dropping views. The O Trek is an extension of this, joining the 2 ends of the W to create one long loop. This is the one we signed up for. Before the trek we based ourselves in Puerto Natales, renting all the camping equipment we would need and visiting no less than 5 supermarkets to stock up on food. The price of the campsites, the entrance fees and the gear would make it our most expensive week in all of South America, but we were hoping it would be worth the price.
It was an easy bus and shuttle ride from Puerto Natales to reach Torres del Paine, where we were welcomed with clear blue skies and warm weather. We were dropped off right beside our first campsite, Central, where there was also a hostel, hotel, cafe, minimart, hot water showers, flushing toilets with toilet paper, drinkable water, cooking/dining tents, tables and chairs plus more. It was five-star luxury compared to what we had experienced on previous hikes. But we didn't have time to relax just yet. We dumped our bags and immediately commenced the trek up to the Mirador Las Torres (The Towers), relieved to be hiking pack-free on day 1.
Straight away we could tell this would be vastly different to our expeditions in Peru. Here we enjoyed low altitude, no farmyard animals blocking the path or contaminating the water, and an exorbitant amount of daylight hours (sunrise 5.30 a.m., sunset 9.40 p.m.). Not having to rush into camp at the end of the day was a welcome change, with the light and warmth stretching out till late into the night.
The hike started off gently, through green fields dotted with colourful wildflowers and glimpses of snow above us. Then the ascent began, up slippery gravel paths with a fast-flowing river in the valley below. About the halfway mark we came across another campsite, already buzzing with tourists making use of the cafe. We continued on, entering a wonderfully shady forest that was not only beautiful but also gave us some relief from the harsh sun.
Over the last couple of kilometres, things became more serious. The incline suddenly increased, the path narrowed and the rocky surface became much more unstable. Overtaking or passing others was virtually impossible at times, and the end was nowhere in sight. Finally, we rounded a corner to discover a pale turquoise lake at the foot of the Torres, 3 upright boulders looming large over the water. It was an impressive sight, dampened only by the fact that there were hundreds of people crowding around the water's edge, all trying to capture the perfect shot.
Half an hour later we commenced the descent, taking an eternity as we waited for the hikers coming up the single-person track. Once the congestion cleared, it was smooth sailing all the way back to camp. We had naively forgotten to take our lunch with us, and it ended up being 4.30 p.m. before we ate our midday meal.
With our bellies satisfied we asked to be shown to our campsite. I thought we had booked a patch of grass to set up our tent, but instead we were given one of the permanent tents, perched high off the ground and more than twice the size of what we had with us. We weren't complaining. We spread the entire contents of our packs across the wide mattress on the base of the tent, enjoyed hot showers, cooked in the dining tent and sat at a table to eat dinner - all things we never did while camping in Peru. Although we attempted an early night's sleep, the lingering daylight outside prevented that from happening. It would be a common theme across the week.
Day 2
Distance: 34.4 km
Ascent: 1,570 m
Descent: 1,541 m
The alarm blared at me at 2.20 a.m., a ridiculous time of day to be awake. The things I put myself through for a sunrise. Danny was having none of it, so I took off alone for the almost 3-hour trek back up to the Mirador Las Torres, this time completely in the dark. For the first 8 km, I didn't encounter another soul. Either I had left camp far too late and was going to miss sunrise, or no one else was stupid enough to wake up this early.
The answer was neither. There were over 100 people at the mirador, most of whom had only trekked from the campsite halfway up the mountain. I made it just minutes before the sun’s rays hit the top of the towers, turning their peaks a dazzling gold. The light slowly made its way down the rocks, with their reflections shining brightly in the surface of the water. I stood mesmerised for the next 45 minutes, glad I had sacrificed a good night’s sleep for this experience.
Going down was much easier today without having to pass hordes of people making their way up. Back at camp I ate breakfast, packed my bag and, with Danny in tow, set out for today's destination, Seron Campsite.
We left the snow and glaciers behind and walked through vibrant green fields and flower-studded forests. The scenery was completely different to what we passed on the way to the mirador. It was stunning, and I could almost believe we were in Switzerland rather than southern Chile. The path led us gently up and over a small hill before snaking down to a milky blue river, from where we could see streaks of white snow in the mountains ahead. Last week, the region had endured endless downpours and a solid dumping of snow on the higher sections. Luckily for us, the muddy patches on the trail had mostly dried up in the sun, making for an easy hike.
Now that we had officially left the W Trek and had entered the O Trek, the number of hikers had reduced significantly. As the O Trek only permitted people to walk in one direction, there were no tight squeezes or having to wait for others to pass. We were very grateful for this.
Over the final few kilometres I was on my last legs, and my pack felt like it was loaded with bricks. It was a relief to stumble into Seron Camp, a much more basic set up than last night’s Central Camp. Again we discovered we had booked a permanent tent, where we spread ourselves out and laid down to recover. I immediately fell asleep, trying to reclaim some of the hours lost with this morning's early start. Like yesterday, we used the cooking tent to eat in a somewhat civilised manner before trying to get a good night's sleep (if only the sun would go down).
Day 3
Distance: 18.5 km
Ascent: 549 m
Descent: 512 m
Clouds covered the sky today, which brought lower temps but blander scenery. Amazingly we weren't the last people to leave camp, which was our usual style on our treks in Peru. As there weren’t any tour groups, no one was being forced to get up at the crack of dawn and hit the trails at an absurd hour. It was nice to know there were others like us who enjoyed a slow start.
Leaving camp, we meandered along a still, glassy river for a while before the trail turned uphill. Although the mountain was no higher than yesterday's, it felt much steeper. At the top was a striking view of a wide, snow-covered mountain range, overlooking the vast Lago Paine in the foreground. It was the best scenery we had seen so far. I just wished there had been blue skies to make it look even more spectacular.
The descent off the mountain was just as precipitous, following which were a series of short, sharp, up-and-down sections. This led us to a checkpoint around the halfway mark, where our campsite bookings were checked and a safety briefing was delivered to us in English. From here the terrain levelled off, and it was an easy stroll through fields carpeted with dandelions and daisies. More and more mountains came into view, as well as a blue-tinted glacier that blended in with the clouds above.
One kilometre before the end, we crested a small hill to discover the elongated Lago Dickson twisting and turning through the valley below. Our campsite, visible due to a sea of yellow tents, was sitting on a point that jutted out into the water. At this stage the wind picked up considerably, causing us to rush down the hill to the safety of the camp as quickly as possible. We registered our arrival at the reception then set up our own tent for the first time on this hike, partially sheltered from the wind by the trees.
After a late lunch we walked along the shore of the lake, its banks covered in a fine black gravel that was close enough to sand for a sign to proclaim that this was a beach (no swimming allowed). It was almost inconceivable that if we sailed to the other end of the lake, we would disembark in Argentina. It wasn’t long before the strength of the wind became too much for us, so we took shelter in our tent until it was time for dinner. While cooking in the small dining hall, we swapped stories with the same hikers as last night, faces we would see repeatedly over the next few days.
Day 4
Distance: 12.4 km
Ascent: 679 m
Descent: 325 m
Throughout the night, the wind howled through the tops of the trees. We were relatively spared from the gusts at ground level, but the sound was loud enough to prevent a decent night's sleep. We left camp early for a change, hoping to have time to undertake a side trek from the next campsite. Unlike the first couple of days, it was cold enough this morning to wear our fleece jackets. We didn't take them off all day.
From camp, the route led us straight into a forest, which blocked both the wind and the views. Although the scenery was different to previous days it was still breathtakingly beautiful, crossing over rivers and streams in a vibrant green wonderland. We would stay in this forest for most of the day, only seeing a handful of other hikers on the journey.
Roughly 1 km before the end we emerged from the trees to find ourselves face to face with a craggy glacier, almost camouflaged against the grey clouds. The trail changed from undulating smooth dirt to loose rocks leading straight uphill, coupled with a fierce headwind trying to push us back down. The higher we climbed, the stronger the wind became. It was one step forward, one step sideways or backwards, depending on which way we were blown. We eventually reached the rim of the grey-brown Lago Los Perros, sitting at the foot of the glacier. Here the gale was ferocious - I could barely lift my arms or even stand upright long enough to take a photo. We pushed as hard as we could to escape the area, but the path skirted around the edge of the lake where there was no relief. At long last we made it to Los Perros Campsite, located in another forest where it was blissfully calm. We threw off the packs and collapsed, needing to recover after being whipped around like we had been through a washing machine.
As it was only midday, we had time for our planned side trek. We set up our tent and set out towards Puma Glacier (a different glacier to earlier), which was about 3 km away. A sign told us 'no pase', but we followed the path anyway to see where it led. A minute later we found ourselves at a river with no apparent means of crossing it. We eventually gave up and returned to camp, where we spotted a notice at the office saying the trail was closed for safety reasons. Our day ended much earlier than expected.
During the check-in procedure we were warned there would be rain mid-morning tomorrow, and even possibly snow. The expected top would be about 0°C at the highest altitudes, with more strong winds to come. It would also be our toughest day of the trek, having to cross over a pass and make a long, slippery descent on poorly maintained trails. To ensure we had to enough time to make it to the next camp, the park officials had set the departure time at 7 a.m. The distance wasn't particularly long, but the conditions meant it would be slow going. Talking to the other hikers, it seemed like most were planning to leave by 6 a.m. It was much earlier than we were used to, and we weren’t looking forward to it.
Los Perros was the coldest camp we had experienced so far and offered the fewest amenities. I wrapped myself up in my sleeping bag and listened to the wind roaring through the treetops all afternoon until it was time for dinner then finally bed.
Day 5
Distance: 17.8 km
Ascent: 1,401 m
Descent: 1,863 m
Even though the mandatory check out time was 7 a.m., we decided to make an early start and depart at 6 a.m. in an effort to beat as much of the rain as possible. We were almost the last to leave camp.
The trail immediately headed uphill, climbing slowly through a forest filled with muddy patches and thick roots. A couple of kilometres later we emerged from the trees on a surface covered with loose rocks intermixed with patches of snow. The snow wasn't too bad to walk on as long as we followed other hikers’ footsteps, although we could see patches where legs had fallen through. We weren't protected from the wind anymore, and it did its best to push us back. The predicted rain was nowhere in sight, and there were even slivers of blue sky above us.
The higher we ascended, the stronger the wind became and the colder we felt. Icy blasts repeatedly smacked us in the face, strong enough to take the legs out of the woman in front of us. Every few minutes we were forced to stop and crouch down until the gusts died down. It was with relief that we made it to the pass after 2.5 hours of strenuous hiking.
From the pass we stared out at the sweeping, horizontal Grey Glacier, covered in miniature, blue-tinted peaks that had been whipped up by the wind. Snowy mountains, covered in dark, misty clouds, were barely visible in the background. This viewpoint should have been the pinnacle of the entire trek, yet all we could see were various shades of grey. Up here the wind was so strong we could barely hold our bodies upright, so we instantly commenced the descent through more sections of snow and rocks until we hit the forest.
We had been warned the descent would be treacherous, but other than being ridiculously steep it wasn't too difficult to walk on. Stairs had been cut into the dirt, ropes installed in some parts, and even the occasional boardwalk had been constructed to assist us with the trickiest sections. We made it to the Paso Campsite checkpoint just over 4 hours after starting out, where the rain started in intermittent spits. Here we took a brief break before pushing on.
The next section was the worst of the day. What I presumed would be an easy downhill trek turned into a series of almost vertical up and down segments. Despite little rain falling, the rocks soon became wet and slick. The forest disappeared and left us on an exposed trail on the side of a precipitous mountain. There was no barrier to protect us against the crosswind, and over and over again we had to drop down as it blew across us. At one stage I was certain I was about to go over the edge, until I dropped my knees and lunged towards the rocks on the other side. It felt incredibly dangerous to be allowed up here in high winds with no safety railing. On the other hand, the views were phenomenal, with Grey Glacier terminating abruptly at a sheer ice wall that led down to Lago Grey, but they were almost impossible to appreciate.
An eternity later we re-entered the forest, with its gentle slopes and significantly reduced winds. Several very long, very high suspension bridges, which bounced wildly in the breeze, carried us across the crevices, saving us from further climbing. At 1 p.m. we dragged ourselves into Grey Campsite, where it was freezing cold but relatively calm. As this was where the trail officially rejoined the W Trek, the campsite was more crowded than what had become accustomed to. Most people congregated in the bar or restaurant, enjoying the warmth and eating real food for the first time in days (we stuck with our instant noodles).
After eating lunch and setting up the tent, I took off to check out the mirador, only a kilometre away. Although a few patches of blue sky had materialised, clouds continued to hang low over the glacier itself. The winds here were still fierce, but luckily the heavy rains held off (they came later in the afternoon, surprisingly followed by bright blue skies). Our legs were absolutely shattered from the continuous climbing in both directions and we looked forward to a good night's rest.
Day 6
Distance: 11.0 km
Ascent: 486 m
Descent: 535 m
Originally, we had planned to book a kayaking trip on Lago Grey for a closer view of the glacier, but with the weather forecast only slightly better than yesterday's we vetoed that idea. Instead, we slept in and left at the relatively late hour of 9.15 a.m. Given it was only a short day, we weren't worried about the time.
The route meandered around the edge of Lago Grey, up and down a rock-filled trail with the occasional stream running down the centre. The miradors along the way would have offered fantastic views on a clear, sunny day, but today everything was bland and colourless (Grey by name, grey by nature). Rain sprinkled on and off, and the wind picked up across the morning. It didn't have the intensity of yesterday, but it was strong enough to knock us around and make us wish we were inside. The only saving grace was that it was a tail wind.
Now that we were back on the much more popular W Trek, the path was filled with both end-to-end hikers and day trekkers going in both directions. We were constantly stopping to let people pass, making it hard to find a rhythm and to stay warm (the temperature stayed below 7°C all day). Other than a couple of sparkling blue icebergs floating in the lake, standing out against the drab background, it was probably our least exciting day of the week.
A couple of kilometres out from Paine Grande Campsite we entered a small valley, offering a little protection from the wind. The valley flattened out at the turquoise Lago Pehoe, where we found our hostel for the night. Like our first 2 nights, this was another campsite that said they didn't have space for us to pitch a tent, despite the large grassy space out back with only a handful of other tents set up (the online booking process for the accommodation in Torres del Paine was ridiculous). It was possibly the best day to stay indoors though, as the campsite was exposed to the winds and the conditions outside were arctic. Sitting on a sofa beside a fireplace all afternoon and sleeping in a room with solid walls wasn't what we had in mind when we signed up for this trek, but we were happy to make the sacrifice.
Day 7
Distance: 28.1 km
Ascent: 1,815 m
Descent: 1,815 m
The aim for my final day was to reach Mirador Britanico, accessed through the picturesque French Valley. Danny was done with trekking after we had endured mini hurricanes over the last 2 days, so I departed alone. As I was going to return to the hostel afterwards, it meant I could leave the heavy pack behind. Hiking had never felt easier.
From the first step the wind was on a rampage. I edged my way around first Lago Pehoe then Lago Skottsberg, up and down small hills with craggy mountains and dark clouds ahead. On this section I only passed a handful of other trekkers and a lone vicuña staring warily at me. The wind pushed me along until I reached the safety of a wooded area, through which I walked peacefully up to Camp Italiano. At this point I met up with hikers from the nearby Camp Frances, and suddenly the trail was busy.
From the campsite it was only 2.5 km to the first lookout, Mirador Frances, but it wasn't simple. While half the time I had the protection of the forest, the other half was completely exposed to the fierce winds. All of it was a steep scramble along loose rocks that required me to calculate every step. Rivulets of water streamed down the path, adding to the challenge.
At the viewpoint I could see snow- and glacier-covered mountains running all the way down the valley, covered in clouds so ominous it appeared as though a storm was about to commence. Behind me, a bright blue lake dazzled in the sun. The 2 images didn’t belong to the same scene.
After leaving the mirador the route became easier, consisting of a gentle stroll through the forest without any wind to contend with. Towards the end I had to conquer a precipitous climb up a stack of rocks, then suddenly I was at Mirador Britanico. It was nothing more than a tiny clearing and a single large boulder, which I was lucky enough to have to myself for 5 minutes. The viewpoint was in the bowl of the valley, enclosed in a horseshoe of white jagged mountains. Tiny flurries of snow wafted past that, combined with the gloomy skies above, gave the overall scene a sombre ambience. It was still one of the better views of the whole trek.
As I descended the sun started to emerge, and by the time I arrived back at Mirador Frances there were patches of blue in the sky. I stopped here for lunch before continuing on, passing by numerous day hikers making their way up (I was glad to beat the crowds). It was the warmest it had been in days, and I even needed to pull out the suncream and sunglasses. The wind didn’t relent though, and for the third straight day it had me staggering across the path. A wave of relief washed over me as I stumbled back into camp and the protection of solid walls.
Thanks to our last minute planning and the difficulty of the online booking system, our O Trek ended here. Although we didn't quite complete the whole O (it was more like a misshapen C), we were fortunate enough to see the best that Torres del Paine had to offer. There was some incredible scenery on offer, however I don't think it was worth the price we paid (it was possible to do it significantly cheaper if you booked months in advance). Still, we were delighted to have undertaken what is considered one of the world’s best hikes.
