Kyle Berg

I left camp at 5:20 a.m., accompanied by Maggie and Rachelle, who lacked a headlamp. Along with several Israelis and catching up with a few others along the way, we formed a train, slowly clambering upwards over rocks and looking for trails. Looking upward, several white headlamp lights could be spotted along various points on the slope. It was cool and getting windier higher up, but the exertion made me sweat as always and forced me to lose my jacket. Whatever view we were climbing toward was well hidden behind the rock field above us. Veering to the right and finally clearing the rocky slope, our 55 minutes of climbing brought us to what I can best refer to as a cathedral of nature.

Were it not for the brisk Patagonian winds, it would have been completely silent. We found ourselves perched along a sloping wall of rock to our left and beneath us, the side of a mountain to our right, an aqua-turquoise lake below, and the majestic Torres del Paine in front and above us. When we left camp, there had been doubt as to whether or not we’d be able to see the Towers given the wall of clouds above us and to the west that seemed to overshadow the clear, starry sky to the east. Things looked good upon arrival at the Towers as they were clearly visible, with only the tip of the tallest tower slightly shrouded by lower clouds.

Everyone chose a different position, some staying at their arrival point, others climbing to the top, and a few others going lower toward the lake. I elected a place more to the right and half way up. I thought this would allow me to include the lake more easily in the photos. In hindsight, perhaps I should have climbed to the top and gone more toward the center, but it was a guessing game and I’m not sure there was a large difference in perspective. I changed my mind a couple times and scrambled slightly upward and toward the center, trying to determine a final position and be ready for sunrise. This was tough going as I left my bags and poles at the point of arrival and slowly climbed up along the gravely surface, causing a lot of noise and a couple mini avalanches.

I leveled the tripod and started taking pictures a few minutes before sunrise. Every once in a while I had to brace myself and grip the tripod as a cold gust of wind ripped through the rocky area. Perhaps around 6:45 or so, rays of light poured over the mountain, illuminating the Towers in bright red and orange. As usual, I enjoyed the moment, but perhaps not as much as those without cameras. I would have loved to have sat there and only watched, but this was a one time experience and, of course, I had to take photographs. I zoomed in and out, changing settings and trying to cover all my bases since I knew very little about landscape photography. The show was brilliant and beautiful and left as quickly as it had come, lighting up the Towers for perhaps only 5-7 minutes.

As the colors left and the light increased, it was surprising how quickly everyone vanished. Within 20 minutes, I almost had the place to myself, joined only by 5-10 people hiding from the wind in various rocky crevices. I was not in a hurry like the others and found a large rock behind which to sit and eat my cereal. Even here, the stiff winds nearly toppled my bowl a couple times as I mixed my powdered milk and water. I sat there, bundled up, for 15-20 minutes after eating, but had to move because I was freezing cold.

I worked my way up the slope and found it even windier at the top. But after going further along the ridge, I was better protected and took a few self portraits with the tripod. The couple pictures turned out okay, but it was frustrating not having someone there to lend a hand and with whom I could share the moment. Although the Towers were no longer lit and were now a more dull brownish-gray, they were still amazing. Even more amazing than the Towers was the general sense of seclusion in this environment. Its placement up the valley and uphill made it seem as though it were exclusive and hidden, reserved only for special guests.

Eventually clouds covered the tops of the Towers and took away from the scene. I coudn’t believe the contrast as clouds steadily poured over the mountains and the Towers, only to dissipate and give way to bright blue skies on the other side. I tried leaving several times, but asked myself, “What’s the hurry?” I changed positions, going first to the right and down and then left over boulders along the lake. Even though I had carefully scrambled over the rocks for 20 minutes, the views were much the same from here. In several places I simply sat and soaked it in, knowing this may be my only visit here. I thought perhaps the skies would clear and I could spend the whole day there, but the clouds refused to budge, the wind persisted, and sprinkles of rain fell intermittently. I finally began the tricky descent around 11:30 a.m., carefully planting my poles and climbing down the rocks, sometimes sliding on the gravel. (My camera was safely tucked away to prevent any repeats of Monte Leon). This may have been the only place where the descent took me longer than the ascent.

I got back to camp around 12:45 p.m. and weighed my options. Instead of packing everything up, making the easy trip down the valley, unpacking again, and paying to camp below, I decided to spend the day resting and to tack on the descent to my 4 hour start on the backside tomorrow. This was great and allowed me to take a nap and rest my body.