Mount Tronador (Refugio Otto Meiling)
Well mom, you might be right: I might be getting too old for trekking in the Andes! But I did it anyway and I have no regrets.
I climbed to the Otto Meiling refuge which resides on a ridge where the glacier splits on Mount Tronador. The mountain is an extinct volcano. Its peak is the highest in the region and lies on the Chilean border. Everything about the trip was wonderful! Well… almost everything. I really, really hate horse flies.
It took almost 3 hours by bus to get to the trail. The bus ride is only 85 km, but a large portion of the road was gravel and was rough. I fell asleep on the bus, but more than once got rocked pretty hard and woke up when my head slammed into the window. The scenery was nice in a few spots, but for the most part the road went through densely wooded areas. We did stop once to stretch our legs and enjoy a lake view.
I climbed to the Otto Meiling refuge which resides on a ridge where the glacier splits on Mount Tronador. The mountain is an extinct volcano. Its peak is the highest in the region and lies on the Chilean border. Everything about the trip was wonderful! Well… almost everything. I really, really hate horse flies.
It took almost 3 hours by bus to get to the trail. The bus ride is only 85 km, but a large portion of the road was gravel and was rough. I fell asleep on the bus, but more than once got rocked pretty hard and woke up when my head slammed into the window. The scenery was nice in a few spots, but for the most part the road went through densely wooded areas. We did stop once to stretch our legs and enjoy a lake view.
The bus dropped us off at 11 AM and I had some coffee and cookies at the campground restaurant before heading out – but I didn’t dawdle. I’d been advised to start climbing immediately upon arrival.
The climb was very difficult. It’s about a 1050 meter vertical gain over 14 km. They say it’s a 5-7 hour climb, and it took me a little longer than 7 hours. Quite a bit harder than the climb to Refugio Frey I did last week, not to mention I had a full pack with warm clothes, a tent, sleeping bag, a little stove, a cooking pot, some food and a few other things. And there aren’t many water sources on the climb, so I had to carry water too. I also have a pair of trekking poles now. They’re a little heavy but I got them cheap because for some reason people don’t like the color red. The poles were key in helping me with the climb. I made my arms do some work and it took some stress off my legs.
I spent the night up on the mountain and got to delay the return trip for the next day. For the record, there were a few people my age up there, though all of them slept in the heated building and they had smaller packs. I must admit, I’m kind of proud of myself, it was something of an achievement. It’s been a long time since I’ve done something this physically difficult.
The climb up to the tree line really wasn’t that bad. A little boring, if I’m being honest. I just walked up a road that slowly switch backed up the side of the mountain. But… I was suspicious because there weren’t any other people, and I didn’t see any footprints. I was a little worried I wasn’t going the right way, but I knew I was on the right mountain, and my trajectory was UP, so… how far off could I be? It wasn’t all that steep, just… lots of uphill walking. And horse flies. So many, so annoying, so hungry. The higher I got, the worse they were. I imagine that at higher altitudes, there aren’t any food sources for the horse flies, other than people? With increasing altitude, they got more persistent and more aggressive. I killed so many with my hat. I had bug guts all over my hat and my pants. I can confirm that bug guts do not serve as a deterrent to other horse flies.
The climb was very difficult. It’s about a 1050 meter vertical gain over 14 km. They say it’s a 5-7 hour climb, and it took me a little longer than 7 hours. Quite a bit harder than the climb to Refugio Frey I did last week, not to mention I had a full pack with warm clothes, a tent, sleeping bag, a little stove, a cooking pot, some food and a few other things. And there aren’t many water sources on the climb, so I had to carry water too. I also have a pair of trekking poles now. They’re a little heavy but I got them cheap because for some reason people don’t like the color red. The poles were key in helping me with the climb. I made my arms do some work and it took some stress off my legs.
I spent the night up on the mountain and got to delay the return trip for the next day. For the record, there were a few people my age up there, though all of them slept in the heated building and they had smaller packs. I must admit, I’m kind of proud of myself, it was something of an achievement. It’s been a long time since I’ve done something this physically difficult.
The climb up to the tree line really wasn’t that bad. A little boring, if I’m being honest. I just walked up a road that slowly switch backed up the side of the mountain. But… I was suspicious because there weren’t any other people, and I didn’t see any footprints. I was a little worried I wasn’t going the right way, but I knew I was on the right mountain, and my trajectory was UP, so… how far off could I be? It wasn’t all that steep, just… lots of uphill walking. And horse flies. So many, so annoying, so hungry. The higher I got, the worse they were. I imagine that at higher altitudes, there aren’t any food sources for the horse flies, other than people? With increasing altitude, they got more persistent and more aggressive. I killed so many with my hat. I had bug guts all over my hat and my pants. I can confirm that bug guts do not serve as a deterrent to other horse flies.
Now that I’ve returned from my trip, I did some Googling. Apparently, the horse flies are a known nuisance in the region. But… they are worse in the summer (January and February). Worse?! WORSE?! I can’t imagine worse. They were so bad that I couldn’t stop to catch my breath. Every time I stopped for more than a minute; horse flies would swarm. The best defense was to keep moving.
Eventually, as I was nearing the tree line, I ran into a group that was coming down, and I asked them how much further. They were Italian (I think, based on the chatter among the group) and they spoke English pretty well. They said it was another 1.5 hours and assured me it wasn’t as steep. But I was immediately suspicious. I thought maybe they misunderstood me, or that their English wasn’t very good, or that they were talking about the trip down the mountain, not up. Because until that point, it had been a rather steady uphill walk. Another 1.5 hours of “not as steep” would have been easy, and I didn’t think that was possible. I had eyes… I knew where I was headed.
So, I ignored that bit of information. I asked if they had any repellant to ward off the hungry horse flies. They offered me a can of spray but said it didn’t work. I sprayed myself down from head to toe anyway. And they were right. It didn’t work.
I continued my climb and caught up to a couple of groups of people. My suspicions were correct: the trail got much steeper. That last “1.5 hours” took me almost 3. The sun was so hot, the flies were terrible, and the trail was technically difficult - lots of loose rock on steep ridges and some slippery snow. It’s one thing to climb steep rocks. Swatting horse flies is a separate activity: one cannot do both at the same time. The horse flies seemed to know exactly when I was mentally and physically engaged, that’s when they’d bite. And the bites really hurt – they’re so distracting. If I do any more trekking, I’ll need a long sleeved shirt with the same material as my pants which the flies aren’t able to bite through (at least not easily). I hiked alongside one woman in shorts and a tank top that was getting absolutely devoured. She was like a fly strip! I do feel bad, but she probably made my hike a little easier.
Eventually, as I was nearing the tree line, I ran into a group that was coming down, and I asked them how much further. They were Italian (I think, based on the chatter among the group) and they spoke English pretty well. They said it was another 1.5 hours and assured me it wasn’t as steep. But I was immediately suspicious. I thought maybe they misunderstood me, or that their English wasn’t very good, or that they were talking about the trip down the mountain, not up. Because until that point, it had been a rather steady uphill walk. Another 1.5 hours of “not as steep” would have been easy, and I didn’t think that was possible. I had eyes… I knew where I was headed.
So, I ignored that bit of information. I asked if they had any repellant to ward off the hungry horse flies. They offered me a can of spray but said it didn’t work. I sprayed myself down from head to toe anyway. And they were right. It didn’t work.
I continued my climb and caught up to a couple of groups of people. My suspicions were correct: the trail got much steeper. That last “1.5 hours” took me almost 3. The sun was so hot, the flies were terrible, and the trail was technically difficult - lots of loose rock on steep ridges and some slippery snow. It’s one thing to climb steep rocks. Swatting horse flies is a separate activity: one cannot do both at the same time. The horse flies seemed to know exactly when I was mentally and physically engaged, that’s when they’d bite. And the bites really hurt – they’re so distracting. If I do any more trekking, I’ll need a long sleeved shirt with the same material as my pants which the flies aren’t able to bite through (at least not easily). I hiked alongside one woman in shorts and a tank top that was getting absolutely devoured. She was like a fly strip! I do feel bad, but she probably made my hike a little easier.
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Video from my climb - Sorry about the wind noise
Nearing my destination, I wasn’t in a hurry (other than not wanting to stand in a swarm of horse flies). The other people near me were struggling too and a lot of encouraging and sympathetic words were passed between trekkers. At one point, I’d asked how much further we had to go, and a man answered that we were only about 5 minutes away. I laughed, shook my head, pointed at a rock 2 meters ahead and told him it was going to take 5 minutes to get to that rock! And everybody laughed. It was probably almost a half hour from that point, but the horse flies FINALLY started to dwindle at that altitude (and perhaps because it was later in the day). I was completely spent. I hadn’t stopped to eat anything since my coffee and cookies in the valley, and I was out of water, so once the refuge was within sight, I took my time. I think the last 100 meters was the worst. It’s too funny not to share – I took a screen shot from my phone, a record of my final approach:
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At the top, I dropped my pack outside the building and headed inside. Staff offered me a pint of glacier water which I guzzled in seconds. I bought a can of beer and sat down at a table across from a staff member to register for the night. Sitting down after such exertion combined with the altitude hit me hard in that moment and a wave of nausea struck right as I took my first sip of beer – I nearly vomited on the girl sitting across the table from me. It would have been mostly water, but gross, nonetheless. Fortunately, I kept it in, and the nausea quickly passed.
I went outside to do some stretching while sipping my beer and soaking in the views – and that’s when the hard work paid off. I was way up above everything. In the distance, I could see the mountain that I’d hiked before, and it looked so little in comparison. The valley I came from was so far away. The surrounding glacier was expansive. The peak of the mountain was still much higher than the refuge, an impressive mountain indeed.
It's impossible to explain how amazing and immense the views were. Pictures don’t do it justice. But I did take a lot of photos and some videos anyway.
I went outside to do some stretching while sipping my beer and soaking in the views – and that’s when the hard work paid off. I was way up above everything. In the distance, I could see the mountain that I’d hiked before, and it looked so little in comparison. The valley I came from was so far away. The surrounding glacier was expansive. The peak of the mountain was still much higher than the refuge, an impressive mountain indeed.
It's impossible to explain how amazing and immense the views were. Pictures don’t do it justice. But I did take a lot of photos and some videos anyway.
I think they make these noodles on the mountain,
I could hear noises from the glacier from time to time – almost like thunder – a low rumbling noise like an avalanche.
I made sure to get my tent set up before the sun set behind the mountain. Dinner was served at 8:30. I had brought some food with me, but for $8 I was able to eat the communal dinner. It was really good! Goulash with beef and vegetables served over fresh noodles. It was the only solid food I’d eaten that day (other than the 4 cookies before my hike). I ate as much as I could, but I wasn’t able to finish my plate.
I made sure to get my tent set up before the sun set behind the mountain. Dinner was served at 8:30. I had brought some food with me, but for $8 I was able to eat the communal dinner. It was really good! Goulash with beef and vegetables served over fresh noodles. It was the only solid food I’d eaten that day (other than the 4 cookies before my hike). I ate as much as I could, but I wasn’t able to finish my plate.
That splash of red on the left is my tent!
A little video from inside my tent. |
I woke up at 2 AM and wondered if the moon had set and if the sky was clear. As I unzipped the fly of my tent, it was immediately clear that both things were true. The very first thing I saw was the Milky Way, glowing brightly in the sky.
And it was after midnight [technically my birthday!] so I grabbed the little bottle of gin I’d packed up the mountain, my red LED flashlight (to preserve night vision) and I went out, found a big, flat, still-warm-from-the-day rock to lay down on and enjoyed the sky for a couple of hours. I enjoyed the gin a bit less - it was terrible. But it worked as advertised. I dozed off, laying under the stars. I tried to take photos of the sky with my phone, but they just didn’t turn out, sadly. I cannot share that bit of beauty with you. I saw a few meteors but only one satellite the entire time I was there – that’s a big difference from the skies in North America. |
I watched three men leave the refuge at 4 AM in a summit attempt. It costs $900 CAD to hire a guide to take you to the summit – an 8 hour climb starting at 4AM. Apparently, it’s a very strenuous but not technical climb. I never saw them again though – they were just too small to see in the distance. Binoculars would have been nice – I’m sure the staff must have some hidden away somewhere. They were very knowledgeable about all the people on the mountain, their plans, their location and so on. After arriving at the refuge, I overheard a 2-way radio conversation (in Spanish) that I THINK included my own whereabouts: making sure I’d made it since I was hiking solo. You do have to register to hike in the Nahuel Huapi National Park, even though it’s free. Initially, some of the staff seemed worried about me (the English-speaking foreigner hiking alone), but all it took was me telling them I was from the Canadian Rockies, and that seemed to put them at ease. These mountains aren’t so different from the mountains I’ve hiked before, except it’s warmer here and they don’t even have bears to worry about!
The morning was lovely. I was up at 7 AM, made myself coffee, went for a walk to get a closer look at the glacier.
Originally, I had planned to do a 4 day trek – from Otto Meiling you can traverse the glacier and work your way down past another two refuges to a catamaran that can bring you across a lake and back to town. In order to do that, you really need to hire a guide because crossing the glacier can be dangerous. There are crevasses covered by snow and it takes some expertise and experience to make the crossing safely. And I would have paid the money (it was my birthday, after all). But there was an incoming storm and camping was not advised and possibly not even allowed for the following two nights (it’s still spring here). I didn’t want to sleep in a room full of people on old mattresses. Hiking was going to be wet and cold. I don’t have rain pants. Etc, etc… I do now realize however, that the horse flies might have been less terrible…
At any rate, I think I had already enjoyed the most spectacular location. The highest mountain with the big glaciers. I was happy to return to the valley and camp there for the night.
The morning was lovely. I was up at 7 AM, made myself coffee, went for a walk to get a closer look at the glacier.
Originally, I had planned to do a 4 day trek – from Otto Meiling you can traverse the glacier and work your way down past another two refuges to a catamaran that can bring you across a lake and back to town. In order to do that, you really need to hire a guide because crossing the glacier can be dangerous. There are crevasses covered by snow and it takes some expertise and experience to make the crossing safely. And I would have paid the money (it was my birthday, after all). But there was an incoming storm and camping was not advised and possibly not even allowed for the following two nights (it’s still spring here). I didn’t want to sleep in a room full of people on old mattresses. Hiking was going to be wet and cold. I don’t have rain pants. Etc, etc… I do now realize however, that the horse flies might have been less terrible…
At any rate, I think I had already enjoyed the most spectacular location. The highest mountain with the big glaciers. I was happy to return to the valley and camp there for the night.
The sleeping room at the refuge (no packs or shoes allowed in the room)
On the way down, I think I saw condors! I mean, all I can really say for certain is that there were half a dozen enormous birds spiraling up into the sky beside me, and I know there are condors in the area. Whatever they were, they were absolutely huge. I tried to dig my phone out of my pocket, but the horse flies made that challenging and the birds were gaining altitude so fast that by the time I snapped a photo, I could barely see them.
The trek back down was physically much easier, but the horse flies were even worse. My shadow reminded me of Pig Pen (from the Peanuts cartoons). I could see in my shadow a swarm of horse flies buzzing around me. I really should have taken a video… but it wasn’t exactly a memory I wanted to preserve. I had a thin, cotton beach wrap with me that I draped over my Tilly hat and strung the corners to each trekking pole grip. It served as a sort of billowing sheet that kept the horse flies away, maybe, for a while. But sometimes the swarm got so bad that I’d have to stop and kill a bunch. At one point, I stopped and swatted at the swarm with my hat, killing two with my first blind swat at the air. I had a little horse fly graveyard at my feet after a minute. I didn’t get them all, but enough to maintain my sanity and continue walking.
I passed a woman who was on her way up, and within seconds I noticed my fly swarm had dwindled. I turned to look back at her and saw her swinging her arms wildly, trying to swat flies away. I guess I gave her some of mine. Sorry! It was a sharing kind of mountain.
I passed a woman who was on her way up, and within seconds I noticed my fly swarm had dwindled. I turned to look back at her and saw her swinging her arms wildly, trying to swat flies away. I guess I gave her some of mine. Sorry! It was a sharing kind of mountain.
Once I was below the tree line, I found the mistake I’d made during the ascent – I’d missed the “trail” – the short path up the side of the mountain. I’d walked at least a kilometer further by taking the less steep switch backing road. And I think it was a good mistake to make. The trail I hadn’t taken was insanely steep. Not so bad going down with trekking poles, but going up that trail would have been very difficult. And suddenly the confusing information from the day before about the remaining trail being “less steep” made sense. It was a good shortcut going down, but I think I’m glad I made the mistake on the way up.
When I finally reached the campground in the valley, I was told I couldn’t shower until 8 PM. And they meant it. The shower house was locked up. It had been a hot day and I would have settled for an ice-cold shower, but nope. I washed up a bit in a sink and set up my tent as quick as possible so I could crawl in and have a nap. The flies were still so annoying that I didn’t bother with tent pegs or the fly, just got in and zipped it up tight. I had a good nap. For some reason, the horse flies were completely disinterested in me once I was behind the mesh walls of my tent, so I was able to sleep without the incessant buzzing.
When I woke up from my nap it was getting late and I worried about the incoming storm, so I made sure my tent fly was on tight and the corners were all pegged. The entire time I worked, the horse flies kept getting stuck in my hair! Ugh… Infuriating. But I had it done within minutes.
Then I had a long, hot shower, put on some cleanish clothes and ordered some fresh noodles with beef stew for dinner. I slept pretty good but had to get up a couple of times in the night to use the bathroom (rehydration is a frustrating game). Actually, being up in the middle of the night is nice. There were no insects. I saw a huge toad and a mara on one of my trips across the yard. I started to hear thunder around 4 AM, but it was way up on the mountain where I’d come from. And at dawn, I could see the fierce clouds up there. In the valley, there was rain and wind, but I think nothing in comparison to the weather 1000 meters up. I spent most of my day inside a building, slowly cleaning, packing and drying my gear, reading and using the wifi on the rare occasion that it worked. And I caught the bus into town at 5PM – 2 days earlier than planned.
When I finally reached the campground in the valley, I was told I couldn’t shower until 8 PM. And they meant it. The shower house was locked up. It had been a hot day and I would have settled for an ice-cold shower, but nope. I washed up a bit in a sink and set up my tent as quick as possible so I could crawl in and have a nap. The flies were still so annoying that I didn’t bother with tent pegs or the fly, just got in and zipped it up tight. I had a good nap. For some reason, the horse flies were completely disinterested in me once I was behind the mesh walls of my tent, so I was able to sleep without the incessant buzzing.
When I woke up from my nap it was getting late and I worried about the incoming storm, so I made sure my tent fly was on tight and the corners were all pegged. The entire time I worked, the horse flies kept getting stuck in my hair! Ugh… Infuriating. But I had it done within minutes.
Then I had a long, hot shower, put on some cleanish clothes and ordered some fresh noodles with beef stew for dinner. I slept pretty good but had to get up a couple of times in the night to use the bathroom (rehydration is a frustrating game). Actually, being up in the middle of the night is nice. There were no insects. I saw a huge toad and a mara on one of my trips across the yard. I started to hear thunder around 4 AM, but it was way up on the mountain where I’d come from. And at dawn, I could see the fierce clouds up there. In the valley, there was rain and wind, but I think nothing in comparison to the weather 1000 meters up. I spent most of my day inside a building, slowly cleaning, packing and drying my gear, reading and using the wifi on the rare occasion that it worked. And I caught the bus into town at 5PM – 2 days earlier than planned.
Birds at the Pampa Linda Campground
I’m back in Bariloche, in a very nice hotel. I had a bath! It’s a little warm in the building (I turned off the radiators in my room and have the window wide open), but it’s a good place to recuperate and get reorganized. And I have decent wifi, so I can upload this and make plans for the next part of my journey!