Sam, Raquel, and I decided we needed some more adventure, so we planned to hike down to Cape Froward, the southernmost point of South America (not counting islands, which go quite a bit farther south). Froward is a word that has fallen out of use but means obstinate, difficult, and unmanageable - a somewhat prophetic name it turns out. We packed our stuff, planning on a lean 3 day trip. Evidently we didn´t get enough suffering with the Patagonia Expedition Race, as we went suffer light, with the exception of camera gear and a slackline. Somehow our food packing ended up even more light than we thought. We finished our packing Monday morning and Rodrigo drove us to a sign saying 32 k to the cape. From there we walked to the end of the road (where the trail to Mount Tarn starts) and continued on walking on the shingle and rocky coast. The tide was out and it was fairly easy going, although the loose shingle and sand was tedious hiking. The weather was cloudy with on and off rain but not much wind.
It didn´t take us long to get to the San Isidro lighthouse where we had our first path into the woods around a bit of rocky shore. There were some nice overlooks down to a large bay with a fishing boat, but the leaden skies were less photogenic. We learned our lesson on Mount Tarn and put on rain coats and pants as soon as the rain picked up. That didn´t stop our feet from getting soaked from the wet plants when we cut inland, but most of the rest of us was mostly dry. There was an old whaling station at the back of this bay with a number of bones and hefty moorings and random bits of abandoned gear that were too solid to be destroyed in storms. Mostly it looked like nature was well on its way to reclaiming the area.
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| whale bone (foot for scale) |
We continued on with a mix of walking along beaches and rocks and cutting inland through wet mossy forest. Usually the paths were pretty good and marked with flagging and trash tied to trees and sticks. Sometimes we would lose them when there were other old trails or trees had fallen down obscuring the way. Then we would thrash about for a while ´til we found the way again. The next item of note was an old house that people have been camping in from time to time. There was a nice raspberry patch and calafate berries growing there too. Then we had a stream crossing that was pretty easy because the channel split and there were log-jams across. The logs were pretty slippery when wet and we fantasized about shoes with carbide spikes under the instep. The tide was coming in and was fairly high when we caught up to another group of hikers that had just waded across a stream mouth. It looked to be about mid-thigh deep, and we were not excited at the prospect of wading. Luckily this was a small stream and a little upstream we found a spot where it was only calf deep.
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| even shallow river crossings were still cold |
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| dead sea lion - quite stinky |
We continued on, passing the group of 5 hikers with much larger packs, and across a long section that cut inland through the turbal - a sort of peat moss bog that can be exceedingly wet and squishy or more like a well manicured sponge. Many of the trees growing out of it look like bonsai. The trail had sections of corduroy with logs and half logs to walk on. As it was raining they were very slick and we continued to dream of spiky insteps. Most of the way through this section there was a wooden platform at a nice overlook. The trails seemed to alternate between non-existent and well built but a little out of repair. After this we were walking up a long beach that gradually disappeared as the tide came up. Near the end we had to do a lot of clambering over driftwood and trying to hop around the stump ends between waves. We were only somewhat successful at this, but our feet were pretty wet already. Then we got to a big river crossing. It looked like a lot of rough bushwhacking to get upstream with no promise it would get small for a while and although there was a sandbar across the mouth, at high tide it still looked wide and deep. The other group got there too, and they waded out to thigh deep before retreating. We set up camp and decided to get up around midnight to cross at low tide. The other group had a similar plan, but they would just wait up cooking food.
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| night time in the tent |
I woke up when Sam woke up - my alarm had failed to wake me, but it was only 0045, so we hadn´t missed the low tide. We hurredly packed up and wandered back and forth on the sandbar a few times staring into the black water guessing where it was shallowest. Unfortunately our headlamp batteries were a little low and the extra set we brought for the DeLorme In Reach satellite communicator seemed to be dead too and there was a fog blowing off the land. We decided on a spot and waded across. It got to about knee deep. Then we headed on down the beach and up into the woods. It was raining again and we lost the trail and were thrashing around a steep slope covered with mossy logs and thick undergrowth. Sam´s headlamp died. Luckily he had also brought along the Fenix E-15 light which was much brighter - too bright for close brush bushwhacking but it was perfect for scouting river crossings - too bad we didn´t think of it earlier. He swapped out his headlamp batteries for the old In Reach ones and we continued to thrash through the soaking mossy green hell looking for the bits of trash and flagging that might be marking the way. Eventually we found it and got back to a beach. There we continued on through the night with dim headlights continually looking to the right to see if there was another path into the woods we needed to take. Usually they just went in to camping spots though. I was in the lead and I saw some odd white post off to my left by the water and wandered blearily that way to figure out what it was. As I got closer it remained a mystery until surreally resolving into a penguin! It was a king penguin with a large wound on it´s belly. We took photos for a while, but it was hard in the dark and rain. I am guessing it got bit by a seal or sea lion and was up on the beach to recover.
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| king penguin - the wound is on the other side |
Around 0430 we stopped and cooked up an Alpine Aire meal with the jet boil stove and enjoyed some delicious warm calories before continuing on down the beach. Soon we got to another river crossing. It looked wide and deep and cold and dark. The tide was coming in so we decided to make camp and cross in the morning when the tide was going down. We set up camp and went to sleep for the second time that night.
This time we set Sam´s alarm. It woke us up at 9 and the river was down a lot (and we could see). We left most of our stuff in camp and planned a high speed assault on the cape with only one light pack full of stuff. We counted on getting back to this river crossing before the tide was up too much or else we would have to cross anyway even if it meant swimming. The crossing was only about knee deep, and then we were off jogging up the beach. This didn´t last long as soon we were walking along a rocky bench between the forest and the sea. It featured rock ridges and algae and seaweed and was very slick. Sam and I have a lot of experience with this sort of terrain - at least similar, but not so slick - but Raquel didn´t until today. It was slow going and then the rain picked up along with a bit of a headwind. Sometimes instead of the slick rocky bench we got slick baseball to bowling ball size rounded cobbles. Normally I can dance across the top of this sort of terrain but it was far too slippery and I had to step in between the rocks. This was both slow and painful. We had a few paths through the woods complete with log ladders with broken rungs and more log corduroy. As the rain picked up my water resistant running pants began letting the water through.
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| typical rocky bench between the forest and the blown out strait |
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| distant cross up on top of the mountain |
We could chart our progress with gps, but it was slow, too slow. Finally we could see the cross through the clouds way up on a mountain top. Yikes, it was a ways up, and I really wanted to go to the cape. We passed the turnoff to the trail and continued along the shore. Unfortunately that cliffed out before we got to the cape or another path. I probably could have climbed around, but it would have been an awfully cold dunking if I didn´t make it. Instead I scrambled up the near vertical scrubby forest to the plateau. It was slow going climbing up through the soaked vegetation, especially when a wet branch would spring back into my face and when I hit a prickly plant. When I got to the top Sam yelled up to me to look out to sea that there was a whale. Eventually I saw it spout and saw it´s back a few times although I never saw it´s tail. I spent some time trying to get a decent photo, although with just the point and shoot and conditions it was pretty futile.
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that black streak left of the expanded portion is a whale!
or maybe it is Nessie |
I directed Sam and Raquel up a better way and then we rejoined and headed up the trail to the cross. I was hoping there was another path down to the cape point, but that was not the case. By now we were well past the turnaround time to hit the river crossing at a similar water level (assuming my guess about the low tide time was correct) but we decided we had come this far...
The trail up to the cross was mostly pretty good. It was wet and muddy but fairly firm - you didn´t sink in as much as on most of the trails. I think maybe it sees more traffic with people coming in by boat. There were ropes and some steep metal steps as well as a number of portraits of Christ - stations of the cross? As we headed up the visibility decreased and the rain and wind increased. At least we were climbing up and generating heat. Finally we got to the top where there is a massive cross erected in honor of a Pope´s visit to Chile (and to replace the previous crosses destroyed by the weather). Unfortunately the view was mostly of cloud, rain, and mist. We did get one surprising window of blue sky, but the rain never stopped and sometimes we were completely surrounded by cloud. I think on a clear day the views would be spectacular, although with the conditions we got it really did feel like the end of the world. We took some pics and headed down before we got any colder.
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Sam and the cross
note the little blue dot at the base is Raquel for scale |
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| panorama at the top, Atlantic on the left, Pacific on the right |
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| Sam makes a splash on the descent |
Once again I would have liked to go faster as I was envisioning the bone chilling wade getting deeper and deeper the longer we took. We probably did get back a little faster, but not much because the rain was stronger and the tide was coming in. This made some of the rocky shore bits a bit more exciting trying to pass the low spots between waves. Finally we got back around 1550. Luckily we were able to jog the bit of beach before this to generate a bit of warmth. We had marked the spot we wanted to cross so we didn´t have to guess where to go. It looked cold and deep, but at least the waves weren´t getting this far up the river. I stripped off my pants that were only somewhat damp and also my one waterproof sock and then put my rainpants back on. Then Raquel got on my shoulders and I followed Sam across. Halfway across we stopped to dig my camera out of my pocket for documentation. It got to belly deep at the worst and I tried to pull up my shirt and Raquel had to lift her feet. Then mercifully we were done and able to run back to camp for some warm food and dryish clothes. The speed of the Jet Boil stove was particularly appreciated. It wasn´t even raining anymore, which made packing up camp a whole lot more pleasant. We could even see a few sunny places on the other side of the strait.
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| oooh, we hit the critical depth |
We weren´t done for the day though. We still had a long crossing through the woods to make before it got dark. Well, we hoped we would make it before dark. It was reasonably light when we got there, but as soon as we got into the woods it was pretty dark. We did a decent job following the trail until it disappeared into an area where a number of trees had fallen down. Out came the either too dim or too bright lights and we cast about for a while until we eventually found the trail. Then we had a section of beach back to the next river crossing. Once again the tide was up and we set up camp, had our last 2 hot meals, and went to bed, setting the alarm for 0200 for another low tide night crossing. It was nice that it was not raining, but the clearing weather brought dropping temperatures. Despite having supposedly 0 degree C bags and wearing a fair bit of mostly dry clothes, it was cold. It was only about 8 degrees C, but perhaps with our light rations and long hours in the rain we just weren´t generating much heat anymore.
It wasn´t any warmer when we got up at 2 am, but at least the water was lower. It was still dropping, but we were ready to go. Despite crossing the previous night we weren´t sure exactly where the best place was and once in the water it kept getting deeper and deeper. Luckily it was a little shallower on the side where Sam was and we headed farther out to sea towards the sandbar. The water went up to my thighs, but didn´t get my severely pulled up pants wet. Then we just continued on down the beach without stopping in the hopes that we would begin to generate heat. Before the next camp my headlamp batteries ran out. Luckily my steri-pen water purifier has a flashlight function too. We camped at the start of the long trail for a few more hours.
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| home sweet home - the hoopla 4 |
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| sunrise over the Strait of Magellan |
We got up at 0700 and headed off up the trail. Luckily it headed uphill soon and we were able to generate much appreciated heat. Even more appreciated was the fact that not only was it not raining, but it was a genuinely nice day. The hiking was pleasant, the views spectacular, and the tide was low. We even stopped to take acro pictures at a number of locations. By the time we got to the San Isidro lighthouse we were ready to be done walking, but we still had a long way to go. We stopped to dry our feet and have a little break which was pretty wonderful until we had to start moving again and our first few steps felt like all the bones in our feet were broken.
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| Sam tees off on the turbal |
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| trail with logs and mini trees |
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| Sam practices his superhero acro with Raquel |
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| more scenic acro action - too bad the wind picked up and ruined my reflection |
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| Mount Sarmiento |
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| Blackish Oystercatcher |
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| it gets windy here sometimes |
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| It was a nice day - panoramic across the strait |
There was one couple ahead of us and despite what we thought was a good pace, we were barely gaining on them. Then we turned around and saw the group we had met earlier gaining on us. Not only were they coming on like we were standing still and this was with packs that were probably 3 times our packs weight. There might be something to bringing enough food and clothing after all. It turns out that they tried to cross the river before we did and decided to turn back - probably wisely.
The road portion of the hike seemed to take forever despite being only about 10 k. We passed the sign saying it was 32 k to the cape - really more like 42. We got to the place the bus stops around 1720 which meant about 2 hours to wait for the bus (which was a bit over 20 minutes late). At least we were dry and it was sunny - at first. After an hour of drying things off the clouds came and the wind picked up and some rain threatened. Once again we were cold, but not as cold as after the Mount Tarn hike. Still, we were mighty glad to get on the bus and even more happy to get a 2 course hot meal inside us. Pasta and then fried potatoes. It felt like we were gone for a lot longer than 3 days. Perhaps that is from sleeping and getting up 4 times in 2 nights. In a way it was more of an adventure race than the actual Patagonia Expedition Race for us.
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| fuchsia grows wild here (Fuchsia magellanica) |
I learned a number of things on this trip. Always bring spare batteries and or a spare light and more food. I also inadvertantly brought one
lizard waterproof sock and one arm warmer that I suppose looks somewhat like one when packing. This was unfortunate for my feet, but good for gear testing. After hiking all day in the rain both feet felt wet, but the one with the Lizard sock over a drymax sock was only damp and the other with a wool sock was soaked. By the end of the third day one foot looked all white and puffy and the one with the Lizard sock looked only slightly swollen. I was even preferentially stepping into the water with that foot as long as I didn´t think it would be deep enough to come into the top. My Kokatat hat worked brilliantly, especially on the day I wasn´t carrying a pack. It kept my head dry and also kept water from going down my neck. Rain pants were also a very handy item to have even though my ultralight breathable ones did eventually get wet inside during the driving rain, it was only somewhat wet and still fairly warm. They also helped immensely for the waist deep water crossing. We also should have done a bit more research on this hike. It is generally done in 4 plus days, and we figured that we could do better than that, but waiting for the low tide for river crossings was a bit more of a constraint on the schedule than we thought. We should have brought one of the packrafts. There was also more slow slippery rocks and less mellow beach walking than we expected. Still, it was good training and a memorable if not always pleasant trip.
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| my right foot (on the left) had the lizard waterproof sock on |
