Kyle Berg

Another rain shower greeted me in the morning. I wanted to make some good progress, but had no desire to pack up and set off in the rain. My lazier side won and I stayed in my sleeping bag until 10:30, thinking at one point I would spend another day there waiting out the rain. But the precipitation did clear and although the outside of the tent was obviously soaked, everything else was dry. I left camp around 12 or 12:30 and made it down the trail in roughly 2 1/2 hours and with a whole lot more energy than when I had gone up the trail. I felt sorry for the poor saps trudging painstakingly upward. I could feel their pain but was glad to have gravity in my favor that day.

After a short water break below, I left at 2:45 for Campamento Serón and began the backside of the Paine Circuit. I had been told these next 2 days would be unscenic and mostly dull, so that didn’t exactly inspire enthusiasm. There would also be far fewer people–good for less noise and annoyances but possibly reducing the probability of making friends.

The first 2 hours were uneventful, at first following a gravel road and then crossing flat, meadow/pasture land. While still heavy and weighing on my shoulders, my pack was significantly better, only annoying me when the belt buckle wouldn’t hold, again forcing me to yell at an inanimate object.

I passed and was passed by a group of 3 young guys. Eventually I decided to strike up a conversation and try walking with them. All of them were 23 years old and from Santiago. Ignacio, Guillermo, and Pablo were nice guys and very talkative. Again, amazingly, they brought up the US primary elections. I did my best to explain how all 3 candidates were poor choices for a conservative, but it was somewhat lost in translation and more so in the lack of cultural context and influence of the media.

The time passed more quickly with company and the walk was thankfully unchallenging. At one point we reached a stream where the water was shallow enough to cross, but deep enough to go over our boots. So, we took off our boots and socks. In order to have one less thing to carry, I decided to throw my boots to the other side. But for some stupid reason, rather than chucking them as far as possible, I decided to gracefully lob the first boot underhand style. Bad idea. It hit the shore and bounced backwards into the water and began to float downstream. I had to quickly get in and retrieve it before it floated away. I snatched it up, but the boot and sock inside were soaked. Idiot. I went back, threw the second boot well into the grass, and crossed the frigid stream with my backpack. The other guys learned from my mistake and threw their shoes baseball style as far as possible. We had a good laugh at my expense as I put on one dry boot and one where the water pooled around my toes with every step.

Eventually we arrived at the tiny Campamento Serón, set in the grassy field of the valley. We were greeted by a man who was the perfect employee for such a remote place, friendly yet somewhat socially awkward, backcountry, and who probably did fine with little social interaction. His job was to collect the 3500 pesos, run the store, and see to whatever else was required.

I took a few pictures of the camp and an old wagon sitting in the field, backdropped by the mountains. There was a shower, but I decided to wait one more day since the facilities were very basic and I wasn’t up for it. I hung my socks out to dry, hoping it wouldn’t rain, cooked supper, and went to bed.