NEW YEAR`S DAY 2015

This very new 2015 started with an improvised solo-trek into the wild interior of Navarino Island´s mountains.

31/12/2014

Last check on the Zygrib weather report - no rain expected. Put up a "Closed" sign for the following two days on the Municipal Tourist Information window, picked up the walking sticks from Shila and went home to pack.

It was a sunny afternoon. I put on light pants, running shoes, took my sleeping bag and set off. It was to be just a one night out, two day hike, I thought I would not really miss the heavy hiking boots nor the tent. 

Spent the New Year`s Eve with a German group I found camping at the the Salto Lake: David was heading for two weeks to explore the island on his own, thinking of Cordington, Grandi Sound, Windhond Bay and other places no route leads to. Compared to David  my great exploration trip was nothing really. Francisca and Garret, David´s friends, were doing the Dientes Circuit. They had wine for the occasion, I greeted the New Year with a sip of water from the lake, and after everyone had gone to their tents went for a bath. "Happy New Year", I said to the lake as I lied in its shallow water.

Salto lake, with Dientes de Navarino mountain range in the back, 

1/1/2015

The morning rain made my sleeping bag wet, I was out already having tea and oat meal.

When later already alone walking from one prettyest place to another stunning viewpoint, doubts started coming - did I have the right clothing? - obviously not! Was I strong enough? Was there enough time? Just in case I wore the sleeping bag over my shoulders to dry. Walked through the river - why bother taking off the shoes, they were wet anyway.

Next to another probably still nameless lagoon, sat to eat lunch: noodle soup with spinach, garlic and butter, a cup of ginger tea with chocolate. Body welcomed the calories.  It started to rain again. Probably no-one told the weather that it was supposed to be a sunny day. When I stood up the rain stopped.  I smiled to the sky - "So you prefer, I walk, right?"

Robalo valley after the rain 

 The mountain looked so distant and high - was I making it? One more hill?! I did not see it so hilly from the ridge yesterday. Stunted trees growing very close to each other were the hardest to go through, tried to avoid the forest patches whenever possible.

 Before beginning the climb, leaving the lakes behind, I looked at the majestic summit. The mountain seemed alive - the cloud sitting on the top woke up, a pillar of fog rose to it from the valley and they became one big white mass, which then started to slide along the ridge. Then suddenly a part of it broke into little pieces which descended to the grassland where I was standing and started quickly going over the hills. I stood in awe watching the spectacle with a lot of respect to my great host: "May I enter?"

Southern Crested Caracara showing the way to Cerro Robalo (in the back) 

I decide to skirt that snow patch to the top

Cloud covering the summit of Cerro Robalo

The climb was steeper than I had thought - straight up the rocky slope  alongside the edge of a snowpatch, On top I discovered a broad ridgetop, quite comfortable to walk - went straight across to see the Bronces Valley, then back to look out to the "lake country" where I had just come from.

On the ridge

Wide platou with Cerro Robalo summit ahead

 "Lake Country"

Cerro Robalo 912m

A feeling of freedom overwhelmed me: I had made it, I was strong! I was alone, but I was not on my own: my feet, my arms, my back, my every member was one with all what surrounded it - my eyes were the ones causing the movement, choosing the destination, causing the change. Clouds sometimes closed sometimes opened the windows to the most astonishing views - my heart was just sitting there, beating, inspired and happy.

I remembered how exactly one year ago I had made my first two day hike accompanyng a Russian mountaineer Max to an unknown lake up the Bronces river. Back then I could never have imagined I could do something like this on my own. Perhaps I ought to send Max an e-mail, I thought.

 Crossing the ridge to the highest point took me about an hour: I came to the top of Robalo peak (912m), at about 7 PM, sat in the cloud, made tea, ate home-made cereal bars. Again, when finished, the cloud left, the sun came out and I saw the view. "Thank you."

Robalo valley. View from the top

The mountain, I thought, had been kind to me, and I counted still three to four hours till darkness - I was sure to make it home. But then, looking for the way down, I realised the hardest part of my adventure was still ahead. It would have been easy to walk back the same way I came, but the idea was not appealing to me. I walked around, thinking what to do. To climb that cliff seemed the only possible option to get to the northern side where Puerto Williams was - a dangerous way, impossible to do with a backpack. What now?  Going back was not my desire at all. I thought for a bit, and then threw down my pack - thought actually to "put" it one step lower and climb after it, but observed how it fell and rolled in slow motion so far that disappeared from sight. 

So I started the long climb down the cliff. It took me over an hour to reach my pack - it had opened and all my things were everywhere over the hillside - quite a task picking them up on and between the loose rocks. Luckily no weather obstacles there, just the climb itself, plus searching for the stuff, many of it damaged or broken. 

I came down to the tree line at 9 PM, sleeping bag drying on my shoulders, still damp. What to do? I had 2 hours of daylight left,  but would I make it to the road? It looked so far and the forest was dense. I decided to sleep  and start at dawn. I was so tired. 

It rained in the night and I heard the wind blowing over me. "Please wind, take away the rain, let me rest before the new day. It has been a difficult road, and it is not yet over." I wondered how the cows do it sleeping outside every night.  Surprisingly so I was not cold (pretty much thanks to the hand and toe warmers, a great invention!), just wet.

2/1/2015

4 AM it was already light outside, semi-raining and very windy, I held the hand warmers before stuffing my totally wet and cold sleeping bag into the pack. Painful activity, felt free to scream out loud.

The forest was just as I had imagined it to be, in parts more in parts less hostile, it did not like visitors and probably wanted to keep it that way. Why was I marking that trail with my GPS device? - just to tell everybody not to go there, perhaps! Looking at the top of the mountain, I also saw another, a much easier way, to have come down. I would keep it in mind for the next time.

The Subantarctic jungle already behind me with Cerro Robalo on the top

 It took me five hours to get to the road. On the last stretch I saw a woodpecker family - a good sign. The sun started to shine when I reached the gravel road to Puerto Williams, there was still about 4 km to go. I hitched a ride and soon was home, in the shower, at the office.

Three German tourists entered: "You were not here in the morning?"
"I am sorry. I had to be back from the mountains yesterday, but did not make it."
"They say there is a woman lost in the mountain"
"Probably it was me. Everybody was very worried. I am found now." 

It was only yesterday, yet how long ago it seems looking towards Cerro Robalo over the roof of my house. 

Some say that how you live the New Year`s Day, is how your year is going to be - if that were true, it is going to be quite an exciting year. Looking forward to it! Happy New Year!