Discovering the Wonderful World of Walking
By “Awake!” correspondent in Chile
WHAT would your wife say if you announced, “This year we’re going for a walk on our vacation”? No doubt the reactions would be varied: “A walk? Now, why would we want to walk when we have such a comfortable car?” “Where could we get to walking?”
Well, why not give it a try? Come with my wife and me and our missionary friend, and perhaps we can experience for ourselves some of the advantages of walking.
Naturally, your goal and how far you plan to walk would depend on where you live and your health. As missionaries, we are accustomed to walking. We live in Chile’s southernmost province, Magallanes, and we plan to visit a ventisquero, that is, a glacier. This will be our goal, but when walking one should enjoy the going, not thinking only of the goal.
A Varied Land
The starting point of our two-week journey will be Puerto Natales. As we leave the city behind, several friendly motorists stop to offer a ride. But on this occasion, since we are not hurried, we decline, thanking them.
Enjoying greater freedom than our vehicle-bound friends, we soon leave behind the noisy road with its overhanging dust cloud. As we increase the distance from the more inhabited sections, the quiet and cleanness of the country become ever more apparent. Grass and bushes are not covered with a film of dust or smog; sounds of the country are soothing and harmonious to the ear. The gentle babble of the winding brook and the rustle of the wind in the grass combine with the songs of birdlife and the bleating of sheep to calm the ruffled nerves of the city dweller.
As we continue leisurely along the sea’s arm a rocky point is sighted. Upon approaching we spot a seal contentedly sunning itself on a flat rock. Of course, seals are common in many city zoos, but it is much more interesting and thrilling to discover one in its natural habitat.
“What’s that bright pink spot there on the shore?” asks my wife. As we near the spot it proves to be a flock of flamingos, nearly one hundred and fifty in all. They are standing in a shoreline lagoon probing its waters for today’s lunch. Alert to our intrusion, suddenly they are off in a whirring pink cloud trimmed with black and white.
Obviously, the Chilean Patagonia is a land of great variety both in its wildlife and geographical features. There are stretches of pampas or plains on the east inhabited by the ostrich, guanaco, rabbit and fox. The western section is mountainous, the home of glaciers, and inhabited by the puma, geese, ducks and the caturra (a small green parrotlike bird). As we continue our walk we get a much closer look at the Patagonia than would one who might zoom through it by auto.
What to Eat
Naturally a good appetite accompanies the hiker, so you might now wonder what we will have to eat. With a little advance thought, in spite of the limitations as to space, we can have quite a varied diet. Dry foods such as peas, beans, lentils, rice, oatmeal, cornmeal, dried fruit, and so forth, are best for us, since they are nourishing and contain no extra weight in water. Meat well roasted will keep a week or more in the cool climate here and can be used in various campfire dishes. We also found that a simple baking-powder biscuit mix, with all dry ingredients mixed in advance, is very useful, since the country lacks many of the conveniences of home. We are carrying nearly everything in plastic bags, which are waterproof and almost weightless. Canned goods are heavy, so we have just a few cans to use the first day, after which the cans will serve on the rest of the trip as kettles or cups.
Some wild foods are available also. Along the sea we can gather choros or clams from the rocks in shallow water. Eggs of ducks, geese and even ostriches can be gathered in the spring. Trout can be caught in abundance in most rivers and streams. Wild berries are common. We also find some well-known edible mushrooms to add to our menu.
Our companion, an indomitable baker, produces some surprises in campfire cooking. First, raised doughnuts; her variety has to rise twice. This she accomplishes by putting the dough in a plastic bag near the fire. Later, using dried cherries and the biscuit mix, she makes a cherry pie. But first she had to build her oven, using a variety of rocks; a thin slab or shale formed the floor, and the fire was underneath. She may take a few liberties with the recipes, but her accomplishments are a camper’s delight.
Taking a short rest after a meal and looking up at the sky, we discover that it is ever-changing in this region of strong winds and variable climate. We can distinguish variations of the four basic cloud types at the same time. Suddenly my wife exclaims: “Look at that! Those clouds are disappearing!” Sure enough, in a matter of minutes we watch an entire cloud dissipate before our eyes, leaving in its place a patch of clear blue. This same phenomenon is probably taking place in many parts of the world, but we had never noticed it before we discovered this world of walking.
The “Ovejero”
Few people are encountered in this sparsely settled region of estancias or sheep and cattle ranches. The most typical and likely person to be met is the ovejero or sheepherder. He is not a person who is easily described. One Chilean poet wrote that he is not like the cowboys of any land, nor is he identified by any typical dress; each one dresses as he sees fit. He can be more readily identified by his working companions: his horse, of which he seems to be a part, and his dogs, which rarely leave his side. He is friendly and hospitable. After we have tea with one ovejero, he offers to show us where to cross a river that we are approaching. As he accompanies us with his horse and dogs his ever-watchful eye catches sight of a small flock of sheep across a valley about a quarter of a mile distant. Directing the three dogs by varied whistles and calls, he sends them across the valley to the flock, which they round up and drive down the valley to a gate. It is truly amazing to see how the dogs respond to his direction and do their job enthusiastically without harming the sheep.
Before crossing the river our ovejero friend says he is going to take us to a “soda fountain,” and, sure enough, bubbling up at the base of the hill are several mineral springs, naturally carbonated and very refreshing to drink. After satisfying our thirst, we cross the river, which, although swollen, is just knee-deep at this point.
In order to dry out we make camp for the night on the other side. Now, some of you might think that this wetting of oneself and the general exposure to the elements that a walker experiences might be risky for one’s health. Nevertheless, in two weeks’ time, despite getting wet several times and living in the open, not one of us got a cold. In fact, as a rule it seems that when we are walking and more exposed to the elements we are more immune to their effects.
An interesting thing that we discover right from the start of the trip is that even when we walk through parts where we had previously traveled by car and that we generally viewed as barren and uninteresting, these now become of keen interest to us afoot. Bushes, trees, ravines and low hills, which blend into one distant blur for dust-plagued motorists, all become points of interest at our relaxed pace in the fresh air.
Mountain Country
Having traveled for several days, we cross the Payne River, arriving at the end of the road for vehicles. At this point we are approximately fifteen miles from our goal, Ventisquero Grey or Glacier Grey, which we will reach by hiking on the well-marked horse trail, The trail winds through an area of outstanding beauty. The two famous cuernos or horns of Payne, which are snow-covered mountain peaks, drop sharply into the clear, blue waters of Lake Nordenskjold on our right.
This valley seems to make an excellent “wind tunnel” at times. Suddenly I notice that the girls are no longer with me and, looking back down the trail, I see them on the ground laughing helplessly and clutching shrubs to keep from being rolled farther down the slope by the wind. A bit lower we see a “waterfall” in reverse as the force of the wind is sweeping water up a vertical cliffside. At intervals we stop to rest at the top of a long climb or at the side of a crystal-clear mountain stream.
Continuing along the base of Payne’s highest peak, which is over 10,000 feet, we slowly grind to the top of a high hill, and, there it is, the glacier! How close it looks! But do not let that fool you. In the mountains, from an elevated point, appearances are many times deceiving. We still have a couple of hours to go. At this point the glacier appears totally white, with just a tinge of blue. Proceeding with the lake on our left, we encounter large irregularly shaped icebergs that have broken away from their parent at the end of Grey Lake. Much of the remaining part of our hike is downhill and through woodland.
Soon we spot the abandoned sheepherder’s cabin where we will spend the night near the glacier’s edge.
Of course, we are not going to wait until morning to take our first close look at the glacier. It could be raining in the morning.
The Glacier, Close Up
A short walk through the woods and we break into the clear. Stretching before our eyes as far as we can see up into the mountains lies a gigantic frozen wonder glistening white in the sunlight.
“How big is it?” asks our friend. “I can’t see the end of it.” Glacier Grey varies from a mile and a half to four miles in width; its length we might estimate at roughly ten miles. However, in reality after ten miles it only joins the main body of the Patagonian Glacier, which ranks among the largest glaciers in the world. It covers more than 1,544 square miles, with a total length of 345 miles from north to south. Glacier Grey is just one of many glacial arms that drop down to the sea or lakes from the main glacial ice field that engulfs the southern end of the Andes mountain chain. It terminates just south of Coihaique, Chile, in Aysén Province, and although it is principally Chilean, it extends several icy arms across the frontier into Argentina to the east.
Come with us now as we go down to the ice for a closer look. Close-up examination of the ice reveals that, although white, it is not snowlike nor is it one huge glassy block; rather, it is of a granular structure called névé. Of course, glaciers are the result of compacted snow and are found in many mountain regions and the polar areas where the rate of precipitation is greater than the rate of melting. At the front of the glacier where it meets the lake there is a constant murmur of tinkling ice and lapping and dripping water, punctuated by an occasional crash as another chunk of the ice giant drops into the lake.
Curiously, although water is clear and colorless, ordinary ice appears white from a distance due to air bubbles trapped in it. But wherever glacier ice is cracked or a portion has recently broken away it is a beautiful crystal blue, for it lacks the entrapped air of ordinary ice. This is also why glacial ice melts slower than artificial ice.
“What causes it to be so rugged with all those deep cracks and jagged peaks?” asks my wife. These are really a reflection of the unseen valley floor. Due to its irregular surface the ice cracks; further erosion of the ice by sun, wind and water causes deep crevasses and high sharp pinnacles to form. Where this occurs it would be very dangerous to try to cross the glacier. However, there are places where the ice surface is quite smooth and has few cracks, making it safe to walk on. Here we see glacial streams winding their way through blue crystal ice.
“But how is it possible for solid ice to ‘flow’?” asks our friend. The “flow” or movement of a glacier depends on the temperature, mass of snow and ice accumulated, slope of the ice surface, and the smoothness and slope of the valley floor. The glacier can pass over impeding rock obstacles by melting ahead and freezing behind. This process is called regelation and is possible only near the freezing point. At lower temperatures the ice can advance by a visco-plastic flow in which ice crystals are deformed without breaking, thus allowing for bends and irregularities in the valley floor.
As we stand at the front of the glacier by the water’s edge looking up at the blue-and-white sculptures in ice extending fifty to a hundred feet upward, we are all convinced that this discovery is the culmination of our trek. Truly, here can be seen “the sparkle of awesome ice,” another of the Creator’s wonderful works.—Ezek. 1:22; Ps. 104:24.
But now it is time to leave this spectacle. Our return from the glacier proves to be equally enjoyable, as we can easily change our route afoot and see entirely different things.
Interesting things can be discovered in all parts of the earth, so whether you have two days or two weeks, whether you live in the city or in the country, why not park that car for a change and see what you can discover by walking.