After two nights in El Calafate, we caught the afternoon bus to El Chalten.
The closest town, El Chalten, is about 3 hours by bus.
As part of that trip, you stop at the Information Center for the National Glacier Park so someone can quickly “explain you how the park works.”
The National Glacier Park information Center, a mandatory stop on any bus trip between El Calafate and El Chalten.
While there certainly was a lot of information about the trails and the views and the mountains, the clearest message I got was that, for the next couple of days, “mucho mucho mucho llover, y mucho mucho mucho viento.”
In other words, is going to be RAINING and WINDY and we should all be prepared.
To a fair weather hiker, wind and rain are not great news. And while there were a million reasons why it sucked to get bad weather in a little town like El Chalten, my biggest concern was that we had committed to ice-climbing the Viedma Glacier the very next day.
Viedma Glacier Pro Tour in El Chalten
The ice-climbing glacier tour is put on by a company, Patagonia Aventura, which offers 4 levels of tours to Glacier Viedma. (The tours range from--taking a boat ride to the glacier, to ice-climbing up its side.)
At first blush, ice-climbing sounds extreme, but when you read the tour description, it clearly says, “It’s a great way for beginners to get on the ice.” The 9-hour day includes a boat ride to the glacier, a 30 minute walk to the glacier, 4 hours of hiking and climbing on the glacier, lunch, and the return.
Although I know I am not the most extreme person in the world, this seemed like something I could handle.
All the pictures and descriptions of the tour show a happy group climbing the glacier, looking into blue glacier caves, drinking whiskey with glacier ice, and hiking in the sunshine. (Plus, I have a friend who has done something similar, and from her post, it didn't look like a traumatizing event. In my mind the worst problem we would come home with was a sunburn.
The only indicator it that tour was anything extreme was that people over 50 years old could not attend, but all I thought was that it was oddly illegal sounding to discriminate on the basis of age.
"It's raining on Glacier Viedma? You'll be fine!"
After getting screwed over for the Big Ice tour in El Calafate, Dan and I were really looking forward to seeing Glacier Viedma.
When we bought the tickets for the tour, we asked the vendor, “Do we need special clothes for this kind of thing?” We were assured our jeans and sneakers were fine, since we'd get special clamps to put on around our shoes to hike.
When we got into town and realized it was going to be pouring, I was immediately concerned about spending the day climbing a block of ice, especially since I knew my pants weren't 100% waterproof.
On our way to the hotel I stopped at another tour agency and asked if it would be dangerous to climb the glacier in the rain. I was told that—while there is always an element of danger to hiking on the glacier, the tour does not go if it is not safe. The same theme was repeated back to me when I had our hotel call the tour operator to check if we would still go the next day. “If it’s going to be raining too hard, they won’t go.”
On the road to Glacier Viedma—the rain begins
The morning of our tour, it was cold and drizzly, but not too terrible. We arrived at the tour kick-off location where we were again assured that—if the weather picks up too badly, we wouldn’t go on the glacier.
I was a little bit concerned because I saw people in line wearing hiking boots and snow pants, so I asked ONE MORE TIME if I needed more clothes, and I was told that my yoga pants, sneakers, and cloth gloves would be just fine. (I even got an A-Ok/thumbs-up sign!)
During the 30 minute bus ride to get to the boat, the weather stayed constant. But once we got on the boat, it got wetter, and wetter, and wetter. By the time we were close to the glacier, there were 10 foot sprays hitting the sides of the boat, and the sky was completely white. It did not look like the kind of weather you would hike to, let alone on a glacier.
10 foot spray + pouring rain. Perfect weather for an ice hike.
We stepped out of the boat to sideways pelting rain, and 30-40MPH winds. Within 2 minutes, my clothes, shoes, and gloves were completely drenched, and I was holding one hand on my glasses just to keep them on, and see through the rain.
If this wasn’t the kind of weather that cancels a tour, I don’t know what the hell is.
As we walked to the camp where we would get the gear, the constant wind was so strong, it was hard to stand up straight. I put on my climbing gear and helmet in the tent in a daze, thinking, “Are we really doing this?”
Dan is also not sure why we are going to climb a glacier right now
Hiking the ice on Glacier Viedma
After a brief break in the camp, we were back in the elements, walking to the glacier across slippery, wet rocks. As we got closer to the glacier, the wind increased and intensity, and little ice rocks were being blown off the glacier’s surface, pelting me in the face.
Clearly, there are no pictures of this, because it was totally blinding rain, and I was just trying to stay behind the person in front of me.
About 10 minutes in, the rain started to let up—for the most part—but the wind stayed at a high-speed. Because my legs were cold and wet, and because my hiking (read: yoga pants) were soaked and stuck to my skin, everything burned. I got out my camera, and tried to enjoy the beauty, as the glacier was very beautiful.
Ice-climbing Glacier Viedma in the Rain is a miserable, beautiful activity
There are only 1-2 other times in my life I can remember being as cold and miserable as I was today. Because the sun came out, and the walk across the glacier was pretty, things were ok for a little while, but when we got to the ice-climbing, things really started to go downhill.
My hands were soaked, but everyone was given another pair of gloves by the tour company (which were ALSO not waterproof . . . .what?) so I had about 2 minutes of dry hands until I had to touch the ice for support.
When you climb up an ice wall, it’s a lot like rock climbing in some ways, except for you have your own picks that you can use to make hand holds, and you make your own toe holds. Having the picks is awesome, because my biggest problem with rock climbing is when I can't find good hand holds. Using your toes to make footholds, on the other hand, totally sucks.
I think I would possibly like this on a normal day, but kicking a block of solid ice hard enough in mesh sneakers, with freezing toes, was absolutely impossible. It felt like I was kicking a block of ice. And everytime I tried to grip with my toes, my whole foot instantly cramped because of the cold. It was miserable.
After climbing the first hill, my toes were completely frozen, and my legs were still soaked, on fire, and starting to tingle/go numb. As I stood in the shaded gulch, waiting for others to climb up the ice, a pretty unbearable cold set in.
Aventura finally acknowledges the weather sucks, we suck, and sends us home
Besides Dan and myself, there was one other girl on the trip named Ayelet who was in our shoes. She was wearing jeans and a goose down jacket, which she didn’t realize was not waterproof. In the second hour out in the cold, she began to shut down from the cold too. Although, at the time, I remember thinking that she had a really great attitude, considering even her core was soaked.
At a stopping point, the tour guide mentioned that if people were cold, they could go to the tent and take a break, and if we were really not good, we could go back early with one of the easier tours.
I am not someone who likes to turn back, but it really started feeling like a safety issue. I said again that I didn’t think I had the proper gear, and FINALLY, our guide agreed, saying if he had seen that we came without boots or snow pants, he would not have let us go on the tour.
There’s that responsible attitude I was looking for!
Honestly, even if I was dressed properly, I am not sure I would have enjoyed being outside in that weather, but there’s a lot to be said for dry legs, feet, and hands, so maybe it would have been ok. Ayelet felt the same way, her boyfriend was staying behind for the afternoon climb, but she made the hike back with Dan and I.
We make it off the glacier, but not without a casualty
The walk back to the boat was horrible, as my legs were so frozen, I was having a hard time stamping into the ice to properly grip it. At one point, I caught my foot on my pants and fell on the rocks, gashing my knee and scraping my hand. At this point, I was so cold and embarrassed and frustrated at the turn of events, it was pretty hard to not just stand there in the wind and cry.
We finally made it back to the boat, but even then, I couldn’t warm up—even after 3 cups of hot tea. Ayelet, Dan and I just sat and kept chattering about travel, high-tech, and our perspective countries, I was really glad we had a new friend to keep me distracted.
When the boat dropped us off, the three of us were alarmed to see that the bus was not there. The wind was just as fierce as ever, and whatever warmth I had gained on the bus was instantly gone. There were about 50 of us waiting, as we had joined up with the early tour, so we knew a bus was coming, but based on the day’s events, there was no telling how long we'd wait for the bus.
I knew if I had to spend the next 20 minutes waiting outside, I would freeze to death.
Fortunately, Ayelet was on my page, and she instantly walked over to the row of cars in the parking lot. It was clear she intended to hitch us a ride.
After getting turned down by one car (the husband was down for it but the wife was not interested) she was able to convince a friendly Brazilian couple to drop us off in El Chalten on the way out of town. Hopping in that car to the blasting heater was probably the best moment of the trip to date.
And that is how we survived Viedma Glacier. It may not have been the best experience of my life, but it was certainly incredible.