Patagonian Teeth
For half of our party, the climb up and then steep descent down the Paso John Garner presented a significant physical challenge (knee problems were involved). The most unfortunate aspect of the knee problems, aside from the pain itself, was that it meant long hours on the trail, and getting into camp the previous night at Campo Paso right as it was getting dark. One advantage to hiking quickly, and then getting to camp while there's still plenty of light is that one has time to relax, explore, and if one were crazy, spend some time scouting locations for later photo attempts.
Despite my wishful thinking, photo attempts were not really in the cards on this morning, as a small storm had settled in for a spell, and there was a bit of cold rain. The forest along this stretch of the trail is primordial, wild and tumbled with coarse downed logs. As I hiked, Fangorn kept coming to mind, and I expected to see tree shepherds quietly protecting their brethren. For miles, we passed through this forest, up and down ridges, and always right next to the vast flow of ice, slowly making our way along the contours it had carved into the landscape. At irregular intervals the main arterial way was bisected by ravines and gullies, such as this in the photograph. Some of the larger ravines were crossed by long suspension bridges, constructed more or less safely, but in a spartan sort of way that left one feeling somewhat exposed (think large gaps between planks). Crossing one of these bridges, I thought I would stop and photograph the phenomenal yawing space beneath my feet; however, as soon as I let go with one hand to operate the camera, I thought better of it, and kept moving forward. I would have been more comfortable hanging from the end of a climbing rope.
At this particular spot, I found I had some unexpected time on my hands, as my friend was overcome at this location with a commanding urge to defecate. The poor man had been stopped up for the previous four days - I'd never heard of traveler's constipation before - but suddenly it was time, and there would be no real contest about who was going to win that particular argument, no matter how inconvenient the topography, geologic substrate, and vegetative ground cover.
As I waited for the gastrointestinal contretemps to unfold, the way the clouds breached the fangs of the mountain ridge was fascinating, and not long after the rain slackened and became more of an idea than a reality.
Thanks for taking the time to visit and read!
Patagonian Teeth
For half of our party, the climb up and then steep descent down the Paso John Garner presented a significant physical challenge (knee problems were involved). The most unfortunate aspect of the knee problems, aside from the pain itself, was that it meant long hours on the trail, and getting into camp the previous night at Campo Paso right as it was getting dark. One advantage to hiking quickly, and then getting to camp while there's still plenty of light is that one has time to relax, explore, and if one were crazy, spend some time scouting locations for later photo attempts.
Despite my wishful thinking, photo attempts were not really in the cards on this morning, as a small storm had settled in for a spell, and there was a bit of cold rain. The forest along this stretch of the trail is primordial, wild and tumbled with coarse downed logs. As I hiked, Fangorn kept coming to mind, and I expected to see tree shepherds quietly protecting their brethren. For miles, we passed through this forest, up and down ridges, and always right next to the vast flow of ice, slowly making our way along the contours it had carved into the landscape. At irregular intervals the main arterial way was bisected by ravines and gullies, such as this in the photograph. Some of the larger ravines were crossed by long suspension bridges, constructed more or less safely, but in a spartan sort of way that left one feeling somewhat exposed (think large gaps between planks). Crossing one of these bridges, I thought I would stop and photograph the phenomenal yawing space beneath my feet; however, as soon as I let go with one hand to operate the camera, I thought better of it, and kept moving forward. I would have been more comfortable hanging from the end of a climbing rope.
At this particular spot, I found I had some unexpected time on my hands, as my friend was overcome at this location with a commanding urge to defecate. The poor man had been stopped up for the previous four days - I'd never heard of traveler's constipation before - but suddenly it was time, and there would be no real contest about who was going to win that particular argument, no matter how inconvenient the topography, geologic substrate, and vegetative ground cover.
As I waited for the gastrointestinal contretemps to unfold, the way the clouds breached the fangs of the mountain ridge was fascinating, and not long after the rain slackened and became more of an idea than a reality.
Thanks for taking the time to visit and read!