Patagonia from the Argentinian Side

Patagonia has been described as magnificent desolation.  Still relatively isolated, the geographic upheaval from the collision of two tectonic plates created awe-inspiring mountains.  Situated at roughly 49° south latitude, it is the only land mass facing a wind track that circles the earth.  So, it faces weather with frequent severe winds and punishing precipitation, all coming from the west.  The combination of mountains and strong weather creates incredible scenery.

In early April, I participated in the Muench Patagonia Workshop with seven other photographers. It was led by Randy Hanna and Cecilia Costa.  The eleven day trip would not have been possible without their expert leadership, nor without our skilled driver Mario. The weather is always changing, and their expertise kept us aimed at fruitful locations.

We flew into El Calefate, Argentina to begin our program. The next morning we were at the entrance to Perito Glacier when the park opened.  The glacier thrusts itself into Lago Argentino, sometimes reaching the near shore to create a dam holding back water entering from the left. 

This is a fast moving glacier which is frequently booming and snapping. It offers many "faces".  There is deep blue ice, gravel laden seams and lustrous whites.

 

 The top of the glacier can appear like a frothy meringue atop a freshly baked pie.

With days to spare and steadily changing weather, the images offered could fill a photo exhibit.

Our early arrival was wisely scheduled since the views of Perito Merino draw large crowds later in the day.

iPhone panorama 

After a wonderful lunch in the park, we headed for El Chaltén at the base of the Cerro Torre.  Along the way the sky cleared offering hope for good views of Cerro Torre. We made a few roadside stops such this one to get a look at a group of Guanaco and Rheas.  We would see many more Guanacos.

Another stop was made to explore views of an isolated barn in the middle of nowhere.  It was good to get out and move around. Randy offered some excellent ideas on composition in terms of avoiding distracting intersections of the three major elements - daisies in the foreground, the barn in middle ground and the distant hill.

The mix of clouds and sun encouraged me to expect the same when we arrived at the massif in El Chaltén.  Foolish me.  Here is what I shot with my phone as we approached the massif.

It was also getting windy, but Mario was keeping us steady on the road.  We stopped at a scenic view for a clear view of Cerro Torre just before entering El Chaltén and found it necessary to shelter along a stone wall to photograph. A tripod was not going to be steady in that wind.  It was difficult - poor light, wind.  Best treated as black and white, the resulting image does capture the strength of the mountain.

El Chaltén means Smoking Mountain, alluding to the frequent cloud that forms around the peak.

The next morning in El Chaltén, we were up early to be at the ideal location for sunrise, but rain kept the mountains obscured.  Arguably the best sunrises come amid breaking weather, but sometimes those magical circumstances don't happen. So, we were ready on the next morning.  Again, it was windy and cold. 

What you are seeing in the warm morning light - to right of center- is the spire of Torre wrapped in a cloud with the lesser peaks to the right of Egger, Herron and Standhardt.  A powerful set of peaks, right?  There are more subtle features on the mountain face to the left of Torre. Note the shadow of another set of peaks rising up to the east; they are Fitz Roy-Chaltén, Poincenot, Rafael Juárez and Saint-Exupéry.  (Hope I've got those names right!)  This only aligns twice a year.

To put it together, here is an image make minutes later when the warm light had  disappeared.  Torre is at the extreme left, El Chaltén stands strongly to the right.  It really is simply awesome.

This all happened quickly, and afterwards, for kicks, we took turns laying on the highway's center-line to make a rather campy photo of the long highway stretching to the massif.  (Yes, someone was always facing away to warn of approaching cars.)


Then it was back to the hotel for a delayed breakfast to prepare us for a ramble around the massif, exploring its many faces plus some smaller bits of eye-candy.

From a more southwest direction, El Chaltén still stood massive with snow and ice fields sending melt water to a icy river also swollen by heavy rains just before our arrival.  At times, we heard small avalanches.  The mountains are so large that is is difficult to judge their distance.

The heavy rains had also revived some nice waterfalls along our route.  This one, Salto del Anillo, fascinated me because of the huge tree that echoed the route of the track of the falling water.  As large as the tree was, the actual height of the falls was much greater.

Waterfalls often present smaller features to explore, and this one qualified as it cascaded down in many small steps.

As we approached the river's source, there was a series of cascades below a 5 meter drop.  The fascination with this was abruptly halted by the appearance of a Black-crowned Night-Heron hunting on the stream's shore. My interest switched to showing the heron as it captured some aquatic prey.  It repeatedly cocked its neck ready to strike, but time ran out for me.  No magical images resulted. That would have been the perfect end for a full day beginning before sunrise.

The next morning was a pre-dawn hike for a final sunrise view of the massif.  Lacking clouds it was another quick shot of warm sunlight, and yielded a single panorama of the massif.  El Chaltén, again, dominates it all.

After a late breakfast, we began our trek back to El Calefate with another dose of falling water. Truthfully, I never get bored with waterfalls.  We arrived at the falls as early as possible and within a half hour were swamped with people.  With patience, we got some nice photos and were on our way to an exciting stop at a ranch.

As the few hours passed on the road, I reflected on the remoteness of Fitz Roy/El Chaltén.  The paved highway is a new feature opened about 2009.  Most important is that the paved road brought the modern bridges. Most of  Chaltén's population growth has been in the last two decades. 


The gaucho is a national symbol of Argentina, personified as riding as one with the horse.  So, at La Leona we were welcomed by two horsemen eager to display their skills at the river.  First, they rode towards us as we faced the sun.

Notice between the gauchos the El Chaltén is seen, still prominent at a distance of 50 miles.  Even at that distance the massif dominates.

We then shifted direction for a sun lit approach.  They  swept past quickly with the water flying.   Great fun.  There was one more treat with the horses speeding down gentle sand dunes.

By then we were hungry; we feasted on a traditional lamb barbecue at the ranch.  Awesome.

Before saying our farewells, there was time at the stables for some portraiture of our gauchos and their tack.

We spent the night back in El Calefate before taking a day to relocate on the Chilean side of Fitz Roy/El Chaltén.  I will close with the promise that the mountains will offer a fresh view from Chile, and you will finally see a really notable bird.

Paul Schmitt