Weather has taken a whole new meaning for me since being in
Patagonia. When the forecast says one thing, you can count on the
fact that you will get that weather as well as a plethora of other
weather accompanying it! And everything is magnified! If the weather
calls for precipitation, expect to get wet. Even if you have the top
of the line, brand new gore-tex suit of “armor” you can guarantee
that you will get wet (if you doubt this, feel free to ask anyone of
my team who collectively have spent thousands of dollars on the best
money can buy only to find out that “guaranteed waterproof” is
complete and utter bullshit!!) Nothing, I repeat, NOTHING is
waterproof on the ice cap. If the forecast calls for high winds,
stand your ground because its likely you'll be blown off your feet!
IF the forecast calls for precipitation AND high winds, you better
buckle up and pray because its going to be a hell of a day....or
week!
Sitting and waiting for a bit of weather to pass before we advance
our camp up to Keyhole was nothing short of a frustrating stint of
“what the hell”. We had been waiting in near perfect weather for
the better part of 2 weeks and then when we finally got the chance to
advance, we had to wait even longer! You may think that sitting out
weather in the valley on dirt and among trees shouldn't be that much
different than 6 kilometers away camped on snow sheltered by handmade
snow walls, but, it could mean the difference of losing gear, getting
everything completely soaked and then frozen, becoming beyond
exhausted keeping your tent and snow walls from getting buried, and
consequently becoming completely demoralized knowing that you have
waited days, weeks, months, years for the opportunity to experience
this whiteout version of frozen hell.
The weather cleared and we moved camp from the shelter of trees in
puesto camp in the soler valley up to Keyhole where we had cached all
of our gear and rations. Time for the real fun to begin!
Keyhole, we learned, wasn't even on the ice cap proper. We had a
matter of a few hundred meters to travel before reaching the infamous
ice cap. But we had some much needed training to do before we could
venture out onto the land of frozen bareness and survive. The first
of which was building a wind wall to protect each of our three tents.
The tents we use are top of the line Hilleberg expedition
mountaineering tents, the best money can buy. However, it is still
only a very thin piece of nylon fabric that separates you from the
raging bull that bears down upon you without mercy we like to
affectionately call Patagonian weather. In order to subsidize the
damage caused by the wind and horizontally falling snow (snow doesn't
fall down on the ice cap...there's no such thing...it only comes
blasting horizontally from the side) we build wind walls. Wind walls
are just what they sound to be....walls of snow to protect against
the wind. You create a quarry and “mine” large blocks of snow and
ice to build a 2-3 foot thick, 5-6 foot high fortress around your
tent that inevitably falls down, deteriorates, and is rendered
completely useless in a matter of days and in some cases hours.
Building each wall takes about a minimum of 3 hours and is akin to
doing hard labor on a chain gang. Needless to say, our backs weren't
exactly prepared for the destroying power of shoveling out and
lifting huge blocks of snow and ice for hours at a time!
Once built, wind walls must be continuously maintained because
they will always deteriorate. Sun melts them, rendering them weak and
useless. Rain deteriorates them, rendering them weak and useless. And
wind will laugh in your face knowing that these measly little snow
forts you have encased yourselves in is all you have to protect
yourselves against her ferocity! JAJAJA!
This is mountaineering! A dream in the making, a goal we have
aspired to, a hell we have willingly put ourselves in! Yee haw!
The best was yet to come!
