O Patagonia. I’m still soaking in the beauty and wonder…it will take some time to soak it all in and I’m in no rush.
The mote con huesillo at San Cristóbal Hill in Santiago. The planes, all the bus rides, and the catamaran we took to finally get on the trail. The chocolate and the people and the sound of the language. The way our guides greeted their friends on the trail. A beer after the long day’s hike. Sitting around the table after dinner sharing a bottle of wine, or two.
The way we all cared for each other on and off the trail. Sharing Skittles, grabbing and putting back water bottles that were out of reach, bracing for the wind or navigating a tricky part of the trail together, rescuing flying beanies and hats, sharing trekking poles, a literal helping hand when needed, and a hundred other ways we cared.
Drinking straight from streams and rivers – no filter needed!
I want to remember the water, the glaciers, the little pink berries, and the wind…oh, the wind. The lenticular clouds and the fire bush and the Chinese lantern.
I want to remember our dinner at The Wild, the calafate pisco sours, the tents in the trees, and the deep sleep I enjoyed because I used up all my energy each day.
The mate we shared around the group. It’s a type of tea and a communal act of hospitality. The refugios and the people at the refugios. The sense of community with strangers and fellow hikers there. A rare sighting of the huemul (spirit of the forest), the rainbow and condors, and all the stories from my new hiking friends about their lives. And a man named Herman.
Thank you, God. I feel like the richest person in the world.
****I don’t take photos when I’m on the trails. Thank you to all the beautiful friends who took and shared these. The hardest part for me was picking which out of the hundreds to share.****
