Deluge in Patagonia
“Should have been born a fish.”, I observed about my impending wet doom.
A few days prior, I surfaced out of my tent and stumbled to the 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 bolted to the assembly area, where the guide covered the plan: 15 miles across the next 8 hours, through valleys, forests, streams and lots of up.
“There was something calming about those mountains.”, I would tell anyone who would listen, weeks later. “We seem so insignificant in comparison”, I told the cute girl, in the front of the yoga class,. She was busy folding herself into an upside down pretzel.
Where was I? Yes, I approached this wilderness hike as literally a meditative exercise,, both calming and good for a sweat. The city slicker wanted to be challenged, the boy would become a man.
We were hiking Torres Del Paine, in the Chilean Patagonia. The weather was mild, oscillating between sunny, forcing everyone to undress, and windy, at the higher elevations, prompting the opposite.
And then, on the 4th day, God created rain.
Our comfort zones are narrow, as designed by nature. People freeze in the mountains, without proper gear and burn if they get stranded on a beach without protection. Lots of rain made for a tough go as well.
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 its water resistant. As the rain went on, I was dry, but still miserable. “Going straight to a Four Seasons after this.”
My friends’ jackets were not very waterproof at all. The girls were quickly and utterly drenched. It was warm, so people were mostly annoyed. I rather enjoyed this toss up between a $5 trash bag and $500 Patagonia jacket, but wanting to live through this day, I didn’t share my thoughts with the girls.
The rain conveniently stopped just before lunch. The world shed its 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 (often ironically on ancient 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.