Monte Tronador, Day 5

Early morning fog with the barely visible refugio.

This was our first day of practicing more serious stuff on a more potentially dangerous surface. It was bright and sunny, but cold in the morning. I will take cold over rain any time, and this was very welcome.

With Maximo in the early morning cold, and Monte Tronador in the background.

Physically, it was a pretty easy day, Maximo and Nativo were obviously giving us a break after the grueling day yesterday.

Nativo



In the morning, they took us to a small snowfield on a hill a few minutes away from the campground (a rocky outcrop in the middle of a snowfield) to practice self arrest techniques. This involves pretending you are falling and then learning to stop your fall. The glacier itself was a bit further, but we didn't go on it today.


Then, they showed us how to correctly test snow in order to see what the probability of an avalanche is. This was really interesting and led to a lot of discussions about avalanches and accidents.

We stopped for lunch at 14h00 and by this time, with the sun reflecting off the snow, it got really warm. The break was supposed to be short, but as I sat close to my tent eating (with a view of the refugio close by) I saw a string of all my companions and also the teachers coming out of the refugio with their bags. It turns out that over 50 people were expected that night (the guardaparques radio in to say how many people to expect, and if anyone doesn't make it up, they start a search, so you have to sign in at both ends), and with a capacity for 40 people, that meant that whoever could camp would likely prefer that to sharing very cramped sleeping quarters. So our lonely little outcrop got cozy with Josias, Emerson, Lucas and Argentine Sergio setting up in the spaces in front of ours. The guides and Simone, Victor and Ricardo set up in another rocky outcrop after the next snowfield. Brasilian Sergio would be staying in the refugio with his girlfriend.

In the afternoon, we learned to find people buried by an avalanche, and then practiced knots.

Nativo is a true expert at this. He manages to do just about anything in fewer movements than can be imagined, and with gloves on.

We looked pretty silly in light shirts (it was still really hot) and huge gloves, trying to imitate him. Maximo and Nativo share the teaching load, each speaking in turn depending on the subject, so we get the full impact of their own region of expertise which is really great, and their obvious passion is very contagious. They make a really complete, efficient team. I also saw Mauricio tonight, the same guide I met the previous two times I was here and who guided me with another person to Punto Condores last year. Some of the staff at the refugio is also the same and recognized me, which was really really nice. Last year, there had been a storm, which meant the guardaparques below had not let anyone come up, and once the people who were there went down, the refugio was almost empty of clients except for me. The staff had made a truly delicious chocolate fondue to which they'd invited me. Very fun! So Mauricio is here and is to join in teaching us tomorrow afternoon. His area of expertise is glaciers, and he works here in Monte Tronador, guiding different excursions.


After dinner with the guys, which is very easy as we all have freeze-dried food that only requires hot water, I got my bag ready for tomorrow (after an easy day today, tomorrow will be more demanding) and then didn't want to turn in. The evening stayed surprisingly warm, and with the setting sun, the stars started to appear. I sat outside on a rock by my tent. A few tents over, Josias started to snore. I could hear Emerson and Sergio fidgeting in theirs. Sergio was probably putting in his earplugs. There was no wind, you could hear everything. The sky turned black only after 22h00, and I sat there, looking at it. The first time I saw this clear a southern sky, I was amazed that I recognized nothing, not one star. The southern hemisphere sky is, obviously, different from the northern hemisphere. No big or small dipper here, no north star. But now I did recognize a few. The southern sky has become familiar.

I had to force myself to go to bed, but I left the door open, and as sleep overcame me, I tried to open my lids one last time to take the stars to the world of dreams with me.