Argentina’s dramatic nature

One of nature’s greatest strip teases takes place in this wind-beaten hamlet near the bottom of the world.

Fierce westerlies from the Pacific slice over the massive southern continental ice cap, hurling clouds across the needle-like southern Andes that seal the ice sheet off from the town and the steppes that run east to the Atlantic. As the winds howl, the clouds slowly rise higher and higher, their downy curtain inching up to reveal 10,000 vertical feet of rock jutting into the sky above town.

Hikers crane their necks and grab their cameras. For this is the massive, almost grotesquely vertical mountain known as Mt. Fitz Roy, a legendary peak that has been the death of dozens of mountaineers and was successfully climbed only 30 years ago.

Now it draws far more casual adventurers, who flock to El Chalten to hike the relatively gentle trails that loop around the massif, skirting iceberg-dotted lakes, taking in panoramas of spiky peaks and hoping for one clear glance at Fitz Roy’s elusive form. But, inevitably, as one cloud bank parts to give the earthbound a glimpse at Fitz Roy, another wave comes in, and slowly drops down over the peak, shrouding it in gray.

During five days last December, that was usually the cue for my wife, Joyzelle, and me to head back into town and huddle in one of El Chalten’s affordable restaurants before retreating to bed in an airy, well-heated room at the small Hospedaje La Base at the western edge of town. The next day would begin as the last had -- poking our heads outside our room to gauge how much of Fitz Roy was visible before setting down another mind-bogglingly beautiful trail.

All those clouds and wind gusts may sound intimidating, but we found El Chalten to be a near-perfect spot for a relaxed hiking vacation. It’s impossible to imagine more dramatic scenery -- emerald valleys, lakes and rivers of milky blue glacial run-off, lush forests of southern beech and, of course, mountains that can make the Sierra Nevada look like mere bumps.

“Why do people even bother coming to my country?” wondered one hiker from New Zealand whom we met on the trail.

There are reportedly a few pumas about, but little else to worry about -- no bears, poisonous snakes or spiders. Precious few mosquitoes linger in the gusts. Although the clouds constantly roll overhead, rain is relatively scarce and brief.

Better yet, the infrastructure is terrific. The lightly populated trails are nicely constructed, well-marked and generally no tougher than the longer hikes in the Santa Monicas or San Gabriels (although the concept of switchbacks has yet to arrive in the Southern Hemisphere). The hikes almost all start from town, letting you roll out of bed and onto the trail. Finally, the 2001 devaluation of Argentina’s peso makes this one of the few places left where an American dollar goes a long way. Our sun-filled room at La Base cost $35 a night. We almost never spent more than $20 for a meal, despite routinely ordering multiple courses and drinks.

The downside is that it takes a lot of effort to get here. This is, after all, just about the bottom of the world.

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Long journey

First, we flew to Buenos Aires, a 12-hour trip and a journey from the Northern Hemisphere’s winter to the onset of summer in the south. After a couple of days recovering in the capital of Buenos Aires, we boarded an Aerolineas Argentinas plane for the 3 1/2-hour flight to El Calafate, a booming tourist town on the flat, tundra-like Patagonian steppes that sprawl eastward from the base of the Andes.

Calafate, which is at the shore of enormous Lago Argentina, a sinuous, fiord-filled lake that spills out from the glaciers that are jammed into the southern Andes, has plenty of outdoor diversions. But they’re all miles out of town. Getting to any trails or sights requires booking a tour or a taxi. Seeking simpler logistics, we hopped a 7 a.m. bus that bounced slowly down a sometimes paved, sometimes gravel road to El Chalten, 137 miles to the north.

It was love at first sight. As the ramshackle town of tin-roofed buildings came into view, clustered at the foot of the stunning valley of the Rio de las Vueltas, one bus passenger casually announced: “Look, two Andean condors overhead.” To top it off, another pair appeared and escorted us into town.

El Chalten is Argentina’s youngest town. It was founded in 1985 as the country quarreled with neighbor Chile over who had territorial rights to the region. The local governor rushed in a building crew, a mayor and police chief and founded the village to reinforce Argentina’s claim, which it ultimately won in international court.

The town is inside of Parque Nacional de los Glaciares, or National Park of the Glaciers, a huge preserve that runs all the way down to the Calafate area. Rangers regularly patrol the trails, and make a point of pride in announcing that admission to the preserve is free, as are the designated camping areas at the edge of town and in the backcountry. The trail network is pretty basic -- you can “do” El Chalten in two days and grab the essential peak views. But the town and its surrounding landscape reward relaxed exploration.

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Lasting daylight

Arriving in El Chalten about 1 p.m., Joyzelle and I made a beeline for our hotel. La Base is a couple of chalet-style buildings, subdivided into a handful of rooms. A third building contains the office and the home of the complex’s friendly owners, Edduardo Barbero and Marcela Ferraris. A huge second floor loft holds a videocassette of seemingly every film in the last 30 years. The walls are decorated with Eduardo’s enchanting pictures of local landscapes.

Every photo boasts a backdrop of blue skies. How did he pull it off? we asked.

The secret, he told us, is to come in March -- the Patagonian autumn -- when the winds die down. Next time.

We saw the benefits of visiting in December when we hit the trail after an opulent two-hour lunch at La Senyera del Torre, a casual place with tasty stews and empanadas. We left about 4 p.m. The sun still hung high. Sundown in Patagonia comes around 10 p.m. in the summer, giving plenty of time for outdoor activities, winds or no winds.

Our first hike was a brief trip to Laguna Capri, a sprawling, deep blue lake spread across the eastern edge of one of the valleys that surround Fitz Roy. We climbed from a trailhead at the northern edge of town around a ridgeline, gaping as we looked down upon the valley of the Rio de las Vueltas at our feet. Then we slipped into one of those lush, velvety green Patagonian forests -- with lots of moss, dense trees, lichens -- before emerging, after 90 minutes of walking, at the brushy shores of the lake.

The cloud-cloaked form of Fitz Roy loomed overhead, and we passed a tranquil hour or so watching the play of vapor and rock before a gray sheet spread over our heads and light drizzle began to fall. We got back to town before any serious rains started but were glad to be ensconced in our cozy room that night rather than camping at the admittedly scenic campsites by the lake.

That was generally the ebb and flow of the next four days. We’d start the day in the small kitchen area of the hotel, where Marcela left a warm loaf of scrumptious, homemade bread for each guest, to be improved upon with copious amounts of dulce de leche, a type of Argentine caramel. We’d pick up sandwiches from a local shop and walk through town, shielding our eyes against the dust churned up by the wind, until we entered the wilderness and the debris vanished.

One trail led to Laguna Torre, a striking, turquoise, glacier-fed lake at the foot of the slender spire of Cerro Torre. The lake, nestled at the end of a Yosemite-like glacial valley, is a worthwhile destination. But a wall of clouds kept us from getting a view of Cerro Torre, and the winds blowing off the mountain’s glaciers sent us scurrying behind a boulder for cover during our lunch.

Another spectacular lake was Laguna de los Tres, a small, iceberg-laden pool above the tree line in a glacial cirque on the Fitz Roy massif. Getting there involves a glorious hike through a verdant valley, and then a chest-pounding, straight-up ascent to the foot of the lake. Joyzelle and I weren’t sure we could make it until we saw a fellow in a white linen suit casually strolling down from the top. If he could do it, so could we, we reasoned.

Redoubling our efforts, we were rewarded with stellar views over the valley and the black Patagonian plains to the east. When we turned around, we looked directly up at the spire of Fitz Roy, rising 6,000 feet above us. Then the clouds descended, and a brief flurry chased us down to the sunnier, lower slopes. By the time we got down, of course, the clouds were clearing, giving us another striking look at Fitz Roy.

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A true spectacle

One morning the clouds looked too menacing for an extended hike. So we strolled down the road north of town for about a mile, then veered left to a small waterfall in a lush beech forest. When we returned to El Chalten, the clouds still hovered, so we decided to take a trip to Lago del Desierto, or Lake of the Desert, 24 miles northwest of town on the Chilean border.

Eduardo found us a driver for the hour-plus drive along the rutted road leading from El Chalten, following the Rio de las Vueltas to its source at the foot of Lago del Desierto. The deep forests ringing the lake belie its name. (One tale has the lake earning its moniker because explorers concluded that the lush land was indeed a desert -- of people.)

Just south of the lake, our driver let us off at a trail that climbed through the dense forest and to a viewpoint above the valley. After a 45-minute ascent, we arrived at a ridge, turned around and saw the blue oval of the lake below us framed with a double rainbow.

The view down the rippling valley, flanked by serrated peaks, was astonishing. Ahead of us was yet another turquoise, glacier-fed lake, sitting at the foot of a black mountain smothered in gray clouds.

Alas, we could not linger; our driver could give us only a couple of hours before returning to town. If we had arranged the trip earlier, we could have secured a whole day at the lake, which is ringed by pleasant hiking trails that extend into Chile.

On our final day, we took one of Eduardo’s recommendations and went on one of the more obscure trails in the El Chalten area, known as Loma del Pliegue Tumbado. It departs from the southwestern edge of town and climbs over several ridges, then through muddy fields and forests, to the base of a flat-backed, talus-coated hill.

The trail becomes indistinct here, but we figured we were supposed to go straight up and began winding our way skyward.

As we neared the top, we were hit with the most ferocious winds, and spectacular views, of our trip. We were behind the Fitz Roy massif and had a completely different view of the giant dagger of Fitz Roy and the spiky spires of its neighboring peaks. Past it we saw all the valleys we had hiked in the prior days, laid out like squares in a quilt. To the right was the Patagonian steppe and the gigantic Lago Viedma, fed by glaciers that hide in the wall of mountains that frames its western shore.

Our jaws open in disbelief at the spectacle, we trudged to the top and snapped a couple of pictures. Then the winds literally began blowing us down the hill and back toward civilization.

We didn’t put up a fight. One thing we’d learned in our time in Patagonia: There’s no point resisting nature here.

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(BEGIN TEXT OF INFOBOX)

Trekking in the high country

GETTING THERE:

From LAX , direct service (stop, no change of planes) to Buenos Aires is offered on United and Lan, and connecting service (change of planes) is available on Mexicana, American, Delta, United, Varig, Copa, LACSA, Lan. Restricted round-trip fares begin at $800.

From Buenos Aires, Aerolineas Argentinas, Austral and Southern Winds fly to El Calafate; round-trip fares begin at $172. Regular buses run from there to El Chalten. Flights to Patagonia during the southern summer sell out quickly, reserve early, especially to get cheaper seats.

TELEPHONES:

To call the numbers below from the U.S., dial 011 (the international dialing code), 54 (country code for Argentina), 2962, the area code for El Chalten, and the local number.

WHERE TO STAY:

Hospedaje La Base, 97 Lago del Desierto; telephone/fax 493-03.This is where we stayed. It’s a cozy and friendly spot on the western edge of town. Doubles from about $40 a night.

Hosteria El Puma, 212 Lionel Terray; 493-095. For a touch more luxury, try this lodging on the north end of town. Doubles from $110.

WHERE TO EAT:

Patagonicus, Avenida Guemes; 493-025. Terrific pizzas and pastas and a well-stocked bar. Entrees $3-$8.

La Senyera del Torre, Lago del Desierto, 493-063, has tasty empanadas and stews and several vegetarian dishes, uncommon in carnivorous Argentina.

La Casita, 439 San Martin, 493-042, has delicious Argentine barbecue, specializing in locally raised lamb. Entrees $2-$10.

TO LEARN MORE:

An excellent and informative website, www.elchalten.com.

Argentina Government Tourist Information, (212) 603-0443, www.turismo.gov.ar.

-- Nicholas Riccardi