Death Deluge in Patagonia (2020)
“I’m going to die under this wall of water.”, I observed about my impending wet doom.
A few days prior, I surfaced out of my tent and stumbled to the (rather expensive) mess hall, grabbing some bland eggs and lots of coffee. I crashed landed on a bench next to my friends and threw back the drip, attempting to wake up. It was slow going.
Caffeinated, we ran to the assembly area, where our guide covered the plan for the day: 15 miles across the next 8 hours, through valleys, forests, streams and lots of up.
“There was something calming about those mountains.”, I would ohhhm to myself, weeks later. “We seem so insignificant in comparison”. I was definitely not looking at the cute girl, in the front of the yoga class, folding herself into an upside down pretzel.
Where was I? Ah, May be I approach mountains as an exercise first, feeling better about everything after I sweat.
We were hiking Torrest Del Paine, in the Chilean Patagonia. The weather was mild, oscillating between sunny, forcing everyone to undress and windy, at the higher elevations, where I would scramble to put on every layer and steal those of my friends. And then, on the 4th day, God created rain.
Our comfort zones are naturally narrow. People quickly freeze on the slopes, without proper gear. We listen to too much marketing about sunburns. This 4th day of days would prove no exception.
As this postdiluvian apocalypse started, I threw on a rain poncho which resembled a fancy trash bag. Surprisingly it worked better than my friends’ Gore-tex jackets. As our guides would later quip, no clothing is actually waterproof. At best it’s water resistant for an unspecified slither of time. I was dry, but still miserable. “Going straight to a “W” after this.”
In fact, my friends’ jackets were not very waterproof at all. The girls were quickly and utterly drenched. It was quite warm, so people were mostly annoyed. I rather enjoyed this toss up between a $5 trash bag and $500 Patagonia jacket. “Please put my comfort zone on Apple Pay, thanks!” Having successfully survived this long, in my adult life, however, I didn’t share my reflections with the ladies.
The rain conveniently stopped just before lunch. The world shed it’s dull gray for the deep greens and bright blues of the grass, water and the sky. The contrasts were striking as the snowy peaks sat on top of the brown and black layers of the lower strata.
Life moves slowly, right as it flashes by. Cities (usually through yoga mats) reflect the latest in civilization but the wilderness reminds us about what life felt like before the modern industrial complex. In a sense, nature connects us with generations long gone. Which is fantastic as long as I’m warm, dry, caffeinated and preferable have wifi.
