Penguins and The Fitz

After pushing off from the glacially slow Perito Moreno Glacier in El Calafate, Andy and I grabbed a bus four hours north to a tiny town situated inside Glacier National Park called El Chalten. The small village sprung up only 20 years ago to aid trekkers and adventure seekers. While I don’t consider myself either of those, I do like to go on hikes every now and then and El Chalten seemed like a mellow outpost for us to do some walking.

We were at the base of the Andes and our voyage to the tip of South America would seemed wasted to us if we didn’t see the glorous snow-tipped mountains upclose and personal.

The most famous and well-oiled trek in El Chalten was an 8-hour round trip hike to the base of Fitz Roy Mountain. While reading the trail descriptions provided by the park ranger upon our arrival, I was informed that the Fitz Roy hike was the hardest the park had to offer and should not be taken lightly. Normally that type of description would instantly turn me off, fearing that I would wither away during the ascent to Tres Lago, the ice water lake that sits 800 meters above sea level.

But this trip has changed me. Truly, it has. Sure I was a bit nervous when the day begun, but I never thought of backing down. The sun didn’t set until 10:30 p.m. and it rose at 5 a.m. so I had all day to complete the journey to Fitz Roy. We packed lunches, water, power bars, layers of clothing, sunblock, and our camera for what promised to be an epic day in nature. We were gonna get our hike on!

This was the first glimpse we got of our target.
Kinda intimidating huh?

The first 90 minutes were an early morning torture test. We climbed 300 meters in less than 30 minutes and my heart was pumping, my calves were burning and I briefly began to question our decision to try the hardest hike in the area. Thankfully, we reached the first Fitz Roy viewpoint right on schedule and had a breathtaking panoramic of the mountain range. It was a clear sky and the warm sun made me strip off my first layer. The area is known for quick changing weather and a cold, driving rain loomed as a possibility.

We stared at this view for almost 2 hours - and it never got old.

We moved on and glided smoothly into a valley hike for the next 2 hours that took us through meadows, over small rivers, around gently rising and falling hills. It was then that Andy and I encountered some of the most scenic vistas we have ever seen. We kept looking at each other and saying, “This is fuckin incredible!” Literally, we kept saying that. It seemed like every five minutes we had to stop and take it all in.

It was somewhere during the mellow middle of the morning that I found what could certainly be the most perfect walking stick. We were both on the lookout for a natural “cane” to help us relieve the pressure on our legs. Andy was looking hard and settled for a bent, short stick early in the day. I kept up the search and found perfection laying one foot off the dirt path. It was almost like a wizard’s staff, thick but light, curved but determinably straight. There was even a little notch for my thumb. It fit me like a tight pair of Jordache jeans on Brooke Shields in 1982.

Me and my stick. Finding my perfect little helper only
confirmed that this was going to be a great day!

After three hours of walking we made it to base camp at the foot of The Fitz. What I saw scared me. “We are walking up that?” I asked Andy, as the s-turn “path” was visible to us for the first time. It was more like climbing a mountain than a hike. Internally I began to question whether I should or if I could do it. Andy was all gung ho, so I followed. Needless to say, my inner fitness critic was all over me. “You can’t do this. Look at all the skinny people. This is made for them, not you.” I muted my brain and began walking.

After almost 2 long, arduous hours of scampering up sharp rocks, brushing away buzzing bees and wiping sweat from my forehead, we made it to the summit! And holy shit was it worth it. We were rewarded with a perfectly oval lake being fed by the melting waters of a blindingly white glacier. To our surprise, The Fitz looked much smaller than I expected. Only when we were a few miles away did it look so ominously intense. We sat up there for an hour, eating our lunch and continuing to stare at the jutting rocks and the few ice trekkers who were trying to ascend the actual peak.

We made it! Can you believe it?
It took me a while for the reality of our ascent to sink in.

Our walk back was joyous, to say the least. The whole time I was smiling and saying, “We did it. We conquered the Fitz Roy!” The weather had been perfect all day and not until there was an hour left in the hike did the clouds storm in. A light rain and cool breeze began and we were unsure how long we had left until we got back to our cute A-frame bungalow. We tried to pick up the pace but our legs were beginning to feel like jello. My knees started to ache and my lower back showed signs of cramping. We stomped down the final 60 minutes, one pounding step after another. Finally, we succumbed to a quick bout of complaining about our ailments. Inevitably though, we made it home!

We left El Chalten a day later with our heads held high. Very high. We had come face to face with the Fitz Roy peak and would remember that day for the rest of our lives.

A few days later, we would come eye to eye with a completely different beast. And to call what we saw a beast would probably be the exact opposite of what we actually encountered. After 22 hours on an awesomely comfortable bus (seriously, it was a joyous experience) we arrived in the Peninsula Valdez area on the east coast of Argentina. We had left the snow-capped Andes and arrived in Puerto Madryn, a animal lover’s paradise. And why do people come here, from all over the world? Of course, to see one of the largest Penguin colonies in the world!

Strike a pose, little buddy. Freeze, you´re it!

Andy and I, along with our guide, Fernando, and two women travelers from Buenos Aires, hopped in a car and droved south for about three hours to visit Puerto Tomba, home to over 1 million penguins. That’s right 1 million of these little guys, all over the place. And we were promised we could walk with them. I didn’t believe them. Why would they let humans invade their homes?

These two were a vocal couple. We are still trying to understand
Penguin, but I think they were arguing about leaving the toaster on or the heat being turned up too high ;)

We walked along the coast and one after another, we began to see the little black and white hobblers chilling in the holes they dug underneath small bushes. The land looked like New Mexico and the heat was picking up. I was surprised that penguins lived in this climate but apparently the sun allows for a rich marine environment and that means yummy shrimp dinner for the mass of penguins. As we continued our 2 km walk through the penguin homes, we began to realize just how many of them there were here.

A nice day for a stroll on the beach.
Hard to find a quite spot though.

The male and female couples, along with their babies, occupied every concievable spot in our vicinity. The babies were almost full grown and all of them were shedding their fur to get ready for their swim from Argentina to Brazil, which takes four months. As we turned the bend and got our first glimpse of the beach, our jaws dropped. Holy crap, there were a ton of penguins, everywhere! All hanging out on the coast, popping into the water for a swim and some food, playing with each other and standing still like they were all playing a game of freeze tag.

We stood and stared. It was truly unique to be able to witness an entire colony of species in its natural habitat, doing what they do to survive. It would be like a busload of penguins taking a tour to Richmond to watch me eat my dinner or take in a TV show. I was seeing how they lived their lives and it was fascinating.

This is my favorite shot of the day. We deemed these homes
the suburbs of the Penguin colony. My question is,
How do they find their hole?

After snapping shot after shot of the cute little creatures, we walked back to the car and drove to our hostel in Puerto Madryn. It was a straight, 2-hour trip back to our beach town and it left us time to ponder what we had just seen. I couldn’t help but compare the Fitz Roy to the Penguins. Both experiences left me shaking my head in awe. The mountains, as well as the penguins, were waiting there for us. We braved steep climbs, dangerous highways, overnight buses, blistering toes, swarming flies, and high prices to see them. Argentina continues to impress us with what it has to offer and our time here is allowing us to keep checking things off our “Life To-Do List.” Walk on Glacier, check. Hike the Andes, check. Waddle with 1 million penguins, check!