Tierra Del Fuego

After leaving Buenos Aires, I headed south as far as I possibly could to a place the locals call "el fin del mundo." In the Americas, the civilized world ends in a little town called Ushuaia (pronouned oosh-WHY-a). It's in the southernment part of the Tierra del Fuego region of Argentina. A former penal colony, it's now become a popular hotspot for adventure seeking tourists who want to trek around the absolutely beautiful terrain surrounding the city. It's also grown in popularity as the primary port in the world for tourists to travel to Antarctica (more on this later). Despite the recent influx of tourism, the town doesn't feel touristy or tacky. Other than a single street lined with shops selling North Face and Patagonia and Timberland gear, the rest of the town has retained its essence, or so it seems to me. The houses are modest, the streets often unpaved, and the locals a little on the salty side. Since the town draws in a wide variety of tourists - from hearty backpackers looking to do some serious trekking to retirees easing their way along on a comfortable cruise ship to Antarctica, it's a real mix of people walking the streets. In fact, at times there were so many old folks around it felt like an AARP convention had rolled into town. But, as nice as the town is, it's not why I came here. I came to explore and enjoy the natural beauty of Tierra del Fuego, and that's exactly what I did.

The hiking opportunities range from very short days hikes of just a few hours to grueling multi-day affairs. Since I don't like camping in tents in sub-freezing temperatures, I chose to be a bit of a wuss and stuck to day long hikes. What can I say, I like a warm shower and a mattress at the end of my day. (It's not bone-chilling cold here since it's the peak of summer, but it's still cold enough that I had to buy a jacket.) Since the days are long here (the sun is up from 7am to 10pm), hiking for a full day can be exhausting enough. My first hike took me to the outskirts of town at the Glacial Martial. Way back in the day, there used to be a massive glacier that carved part of the Beagle Channel. Those days are long gone. Today, very little, if any, of the glacier remains; all that's left are some steep cliffs and lots of snow in the winter. But it makes for excellent hiking in the summer. I walked from the town to get to the base of the mountain - four miles - and then began the steady climb up the mountain. The first few miles are relatively easy. The path is well-traveled and the climb is gradual. But mile four begins a hellish journey up the face of the mountain. At some points the "path" ascends at a 45 degree angle. The terrain switches from small rocks to rocks the size of your head. And the rocks are loose. I felt like I was on a stairmaster. There was a five minute stretch were I was actually moving backwards due to slippage even though I was walking forward. It took me over an hour to travel a distance of less than half a mile. This included walking over snow, which I was not prepared to do. The shoes I was wearing were more than sneakers but less than boots. After walking through the snow for a while, I lost feeling in my toes. Finally I made it to the top after about six hours of virtually non-stop climbing. It might not be clear in the picture on the bottom left, but I was one hundred percent out of gas. My legs were on fire, my feet numb, and my lungs screaming for mercy. The walk down the mountain was b.r.u.ta.l.

About 10 miles outside the city is the small but pristine Tierra del Fuego National Park. In total there's only about 15 miles of trails, but they meander through the entire park and give a perfect sample of all that there is to see. As with the glacier, I gave myself the entire day to explore. I chose some of the more remote trails and was rewarded in kind with hours of solitude. (As I learned later, a lot of people eschew the trails in favor of having a bus take them to a few selected viewing spots. I'm not quite sure why people would do that since hiking the trails is really the best part, and seeing the sights is far more rewarding once you've actually had to trek to those places.) I've been thinking for a few days how I could describe the beauty I saw, but I can't. It's really beyond words. All I can say is that I felt honored and privileged to see such spectacular beauty. It's almost like a religious experience. I'll just show some pictures. (The first picture below is at the very edge of the continent. Across the water is Chile. A few miles to the left and there's nothing but the Atlantic Ocean.)

The national park also has lot of native wildlife roaming around. There aren't any really big animals like bears, but they are plenty of smaller ones like foxes and rabbits and beavers. During my hike, this fox walked right across my path, about 20 yards in front of me. It stopped and gave me a long stare. I was pretty sure that the fox wouldn't come chasing after me, but I sure as heck wasn't about to find out. I snapped the picture and scaddadled out of there.

After two days of 10+ hour hiking, my legs and feet desperately needed a rest, so I took a boat ride through the Beagle Channel. It's the southernmost passage a ship can sail to avoid going around Cape Horn. (The three options are the Drake Passage around Cape Horn, the Beagle Channel, and the Magellan Strait, which is the most northern route possible. It's amazing what you can learn on a boat.) The passage through the Channel offers great views of the mountains and forests in Tierra del Fuego:

The boat trip also provided an opportunity to view some of the native marine life, including birds and sea lions. The sea lion colony was fun to see, just for the sake of seeing them in their natural habitat. But even though they were out in the wild as opposed to being stuck in SeaWorld, they did the same thing, which is to say that they just laid around and barked. Not that I was expecting them to balance a ball on their nose or anything like that, but I was hoping for a big fight or some hunting. Maybe next time. The birds were equally interesting yet inactive. Since the wind was viciously howling that day (gusts of over 50 miles per hour), they basically did their best to stay put on this island. I was told that at any given time there are nearly 10,000 birds on an island the size of a 747. They look like penguins but they're not, which was kind of disappointing. (I forget the species name. But they fly.) At the end of the boat ride I thought I saw a killer whale, but it turned out to be a rock. The guide said, "that's the first time anyone thought that rock was an animal." Thank you, tour guide, for making feel really dumb.

No trip to Tierra del Fuego is complete without doing at least one off-roading activity. At the hostel, I befriended another guy from California who was also travelling solo. He suggested that we try riding ATVs across one of the valleys outside Ushuaia. It seemed at little odd at first that we could just ride these bad boys roughshod over the natural terrain, but the owner of the ATVs said it was perfectly legit. That was good enough for me. So we geared up and unleashed 4x4 hell. Several times I thought I was going to flip over and die, but, of course, that made it even more enjoyable. Whenever there was a mound in front of us we gunned the engines and tried to get airborne. (Never happened - the ATVs were way too heavy.) Before we left on our adventure, the owner also told us not to worry about getting stuck in marshes or bogs, of which there are plenty. He said that between the all-wheel drive and the horsepower, there was no way we could get stuck in anything out in the valley floor. However, my friend did the impossible and proved the owner wrong. Ignoring a large wetland area directly in front of us, he drove straight into a series of bogs. The ATV sunk like a stone. His attempts to go in reverse only made matters worse. After 15 minutes of trying, without any success, to move his ATV, we decided to use my ATV to pull his out of the water. That took another 15 minutes. Lesson learned: when on ATVs in Tierra Del Fuego, don't drive into wetland areas. I won't make that mistake again.

Since the town of Ushuaia is pretty small, there are really only two bars at which to drink. While they're fun and often rowdy, they're also relatively expensive. As a result, a lot of people in hostels just stay in a drink in the common areas. It creates a fun, inclusive vibe. Early on during my stay, I joined a group of Canucks and Aussies in the "living room" of our hostel for some classic games of Uno and Jenga. I had somehow forgotten how fun Jenga can be after a few beers. Thanks to good genes passed on by my father, my hands remain steady even after a few drinks. At the end of the night, the group was in awe of my Jenga prowess. Six intense rounds, and never once was I responsible from bringing it down.

After taking a few days off from hiking to rest my legs, on my last day here I decided to head to the Emerald Lake. It's a two hour walk through two separate forests and one really muddy marsh field. I tried tip-toeing my way through the mud to avoid getting my feet wet, but a fatal mistep landed me ankle deep in red mud with both feet. And I still had another three hours of hiking. But the trip was well worth it. The emerald lake at the base of one of the mountains has earned its name. The water is a pristine light green color that contrasts beautifully with the dark green of the forests and the grays and reds in the rocks. A perfect spot for a little reflection.


You may have noticed that this is a shorter blog post than normal. The reason is simple: I had to complete it quickly because I won't have internet access for the next 11 days. As I mentioned before, Ushuaia is the primary spot for tourists to take cruises to Antarctica. When I got into town, I noticed a last-minute special for an 11 day trip to the White Continent. Even though it wasn't on my itinerary, and even though it kinda screws up my travel plans, I couldn't resist. (Oh, who am I kidding - I don't have any real plans. I'm making this up as I go.) It'll be me, penguins, glaciers, and a boat-load of snow. Even though I hate cold weather, I figure I should put that aside this one time. So I'm off to Antarctica...