Heading south by bus Day #2 Glacier walk at Perito Moreno

January 15, 2020

Glacier walk at Perito Moreno

I slept well in the ghetto campground with dogs barking throughout the night. It had been cold, so I had to pull my sleeping bag up and around my head.

I got up several times during the night and noticed the bright stars. I was in a valley with trees and light pollution from next door.

My alarm went off at 7am. I switched around my luggage so that I could travel with a pannier packed with snacks, extra clothing, and my valuables.

We rode around town looking for something open. The first bakery didn’t serve coffee. We found croissants and cappuccino at Panaderia Don Luis, which reminded me of an Italian bakery in Brooklyn.

Our ride to the bus station was much more direct than yesterday. We double locked our bikes to a column in front of the station, and queued up for the 9am bus.

It was an hour ride to the park, and the bus was filled with visitors from numerous countries. A local pink-haired photographer, who was drinking matta up front with the driver, served as guide and offered her photographic services at the park. At the park entrance we were charged an 800 peso entrance fee, and were recited the numerous rules. There would be various options to explore the edge of the glacier, including a boat ride on the lake below.

The Southern Patagonian Ice Field, is the world's second largest contiguous extrapolar ice field. On our bike journey south we had passed but not seen the northern and southern ice fields. As our bus rounded one of it’s final curves on the approach, I was astonished as the ice field first came into view. The sheer scale was mesmerizing, and I found it difficult to comprehend.

There was a walking circuit that started at lake level and then snaked up and around the opposing hill to get a sense of how far back the ice field extended. I was wearing my tights and lightweight travel pants, in addition to a long sleeve undershirt, a long sleeved cycling jersey, a down vest and my rain jacket. It was cold when there were clouds and hot when the sun came out. My weather app read that it was in the 50’s, and it was windy.

The ice wall resembled rock cliffs. It extended more than two hundred feet above the lake surface and stretched considerably more below water level. It was more than a mile and a half wide. The ice field behind the wall extended up into the mountains for miles. It looked like it was snowing far up in the distance.

We were told that this glacier moves three to four feet a day. As it calved into the lake here on the lower end, it was still growing up at the top. Unlike most of the world’s disappearing glaciers, Perito Moreno is, for moment, considered stable.

At the beginning of our walk, we immediately witnessed a huge calving- the biggest we would see all day. First came the gunshot-like blasts and then thunderous claps. We were at least half a mile away from the glacier’s edge, and the sounds were delayed. Then at once, a complete section of one of the most prominent blue sections split loose and gave way. It was the height of a collapsing twenty-story building and the width of several city blocks. It instantly reminded me of 9-11. I had seen the first tower fall from directly across the East River and couldn’t believe my eyes.This was a similar feeling. How could something so large just instantly disappear? It was beautiful, yet also disturbing.

The walking circuit climbed up above lake level to better view the ice field behind the wall. I snapped hundreds of photos and panoramas, and I captured several small calves on video.

The shear scale was mesmerizing. This thing was fluid and slowly moving. I found the experience humbling.

On one of the upper viewing platforms we found the photographer from the bus, and hired her to take our portraits. She had a good camera with a flash, and knew the best vantage point and how to capture the blue color. She charged 200 pesos a photo, and we were really only interested in the digital copies.

There was another major calving on the upper level, and I noticed that a German tourist had captured it on her iPhone. I asked her if she could air-drop it to me and she obliged. It was one of the strongest documents that I left with.

It was time for lunch and there were two options, a lodge on the upper level and another on the lower. The upper level lodge was jammed with tourists and offered National Park fast-food fare. We opted for the lower, which featured sit down dining, WiFi, and whiskey on glacier ice.

I ordered the sheep casserole, two beers, and a whiskey. I tried in vain to upload photos on the slow WiFi.

We had purchased tickets for the 2pm boat ride, and there was a mix up finding the dock.

The boat was packed with tourists clutching their cameras. Once out in the lake we were allowed up on the rocking windy deck, where Scott immediately lost his flower hat, that had made it across the TransAm, and had previously been lost and retrieved from our hitch into Coyhaique. The views from water level were humbling. Numerous blue ice bergs floated nearby in the lake.

I slept on the bus ride back to El Calafate. The sun was bright, and it was hot. We closed the window curtain and I had to remove all of my top layers.

Our bikes were still locked out in front of the bus station, and we rode back to the campground. Nothing had been stolen, and Scott immediately started cooking pasta.

I rode to Patagonia Cervezeria where I had three pints of 24.7 ipa and a pulled sheep sandwich. Scott showed up and the photographer dropped off our prints. We went for a long ride to explore the town. El Calafate is situated in a valley, and the dry barren plains surrounding the town are filled with scrub, including a thorny bush called the Calafate.

The wind was intense, and I would not want to be riding three hundred miles in it under pressure to make a flight.

After our frigid battle with the wind we went to a diner type restaurant where I ordered the two pints of beer with potatoes special. Scott had a huge plate of food that he was unable to finish. He taught me about rocket science, and I ordered another pint. It didn’t get dark until well passed 10pm.

Back at the campground I stepped in a pile of dog poop while locking up my bike. I didn’t realize the problem until I was climbing into my tent and smelled it. I always leave my shoes out on the porch, but it was disgusting nonetheless.