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adventure travel

Dyrhólaey, Iceland, Reynisdrangar, Selfoss, Sjellandfoss, Uncategorized, Vik, WOW Airlines

Vik to Selfoss – Wind Storms & The Search for a Non-Existent Waterfall

November 17, 2016

The view from Dyrhólaey

Dyrhólaey and Reynisdrangar

Today dawns relatively clear, but the forecast calls for high winds. We’re in no hurry to get moving from the cozy Carina Guesthouse, but as we’re eating breakfast, a beautiful sunrise begins to unveil through the dining room windows. We chug down the rest of our coffee and scarf down a few bites of delicious homemade bread and hit the road.

We decide to head straight to Dyrhólaey to photograph the unique rock formations that sit off the coast here, and then we’ll head back to town for the views from Vik’s hilltop church looking east. Fortunately, the winds have not picked up too much just yet, and with the right gear, we’re able to photograph for a good two hours without freezing.

Dyrhólaey and Reynisdrangar

All of what we have seen so far in Iceland has been jaw-droppingly beautiful, but there’s something special about Vik and Dyrhólaey. Large basalt rock cliffs drop down to a long black sand beach, and off in the distance, three jagged rock structures jut out of the ocean. Closer in shore is a larger lone rock structure, and the high tide swirls around it. Soft light stays with us for most of the morning, and by noon, we feel we’re content with what we’ve captured.

Reynisdrangar rocks as seen from Vik

We drive the 15 minutes back to downtown Vik, pull into a gas station for a hot chocolate break, and see a pathway leading out to a separate beach. Here we have an eastward view of the craggy coastline, but we’re less protected from the elements, and as we’re trying to capture this new angle, we’re literally being sandblasted. I can feel the black sand hitting the back of my neck, and as this is happening, I look up to see Bill’s tripod being blown over by a gale force wind gust. We decide to hightail it to the car with our heads down to avoid more sandblasts.

We do make one last stop before leaving Vik, and that’s at the hilltop church where we’re afforded views of the entire, yet small town of Vik and the coastline below. We park the car off to the side and get out to snap a few pictures of the view. The parking lot is like a skating rink and the wind gusts are so strong, I have a hard time not sliding away. Luckily I grab on to the trunk of the car to stop myself. Right here is an indication of how our afternoon drive will play out.

Vik’s hilltop church

The winds are reaching 60-65mph + when we leave Vik, and road conditions are less than ideal. We plug in Selfoss to the GPS and begin the 1 1/2-hour drive. We’ve had little sunlight or warmth so far today, so patches of ice can still be found in places and the wind is vicious. Not only are the winds whipping snow across the roadways, they are also so fierce that it’s difficult to keep the car from veering. I’m driving now and it’s my turn to have a death grip on the wheel.

We’re no more than 20 minutes from Vik, when I hit a patch of ice, panic, hit the breaks and begin sliding from one side of the road to the other. At one point, I’m sure we’re going to hit one of the yellow posts on the right side of the road, and the next moment, I’m certain we’re going to collide with the white SUV heading towards us from the other direction. By the grace of God, I right the car, and Bill and I look at each other with white faces. How the hell did we not just die??? or at least seriously damage the vehicle??

A winter wonderland at Seljalandsfoss

I’m a bit weak and wobbly now, so we decide to pull over at Skogafoss. Unfortunately, it’s just too cold and windy to even consider leaving the car for pictures. We pull into a parking lot to turn around and watch as other travelers skate their way to and from their cars. Back on the road, we begin to drive parallel to a fjord, and this offers us some sort of protection from the wind at times.

Seljalandsfoss

Despite wanting to be in Selfoss for sunset, we know we can’t hurry, so when we pass Seljalandsfoss, we decide to stop for some daylight pictures. Pathways are slick and the grass in front of the waterfall is covered in ice crystals. The wind is whipping the falls, creating a mist that is (again) soaking the pathway that leads behind. We now know better than to attempt to hike up. (We’ll save that for a summer trip!) It’s a beautiful scene though, and at 3:30 the entire landscape surrounding us is glowing gold.

Our room at Garun Heidmork, Selfoss

Conscious of the time, we get back in the car to finish the drive to Selfoss. We have a hostel booked here for the night and decide to photograph Selfoss waterfall tonight and Gulfoss at sunrise. However, as we approach Selfoss, we realize that Selfoss waterfall isn’t in the city of Selfoss at all. It’s not even close. It’s about seven hours away in the northeastern part of the country. Ok, epic travel planning fail, but I’m certain we’re not the first people to make this mistake!

We still have tomorrow morning to photograph Gulfoss and Geysir and we look at tonight as a night to just chill out. We check into the lovely Guesthouse Garun Heidmork, which is a three-story home with a total of about seven rooms and a beautifully furnished kitchen. We make our way up to the attic apartment, dump our backpacks and head out to find food for dinner. When we return later that evening, the road outside is a sheet of ice, and the wind is so fierce that the attic room we’re sleeping in is creaking. We fall asleep to this unsettling noise, wondering what our last day of exploring holds for us!

Chile, Patagonia, South America, The W Trek, Torres del Paine, Uncategorized

Torres Del Paine, Day 5: Torres

March 11, 2016

The winds are vicious throughout the night Listen Here, but the rain let up at some point. It was FREEZING though, hovering somewhere around 25 degrees when we woke up. Even cocooning myself in my tent and sleeping bag, I could feel the cold seeping in through the face opening. When I did finally turn on my headlamp and look out of my sleeping bag, I saw a layer of condensation on the interior of my tent.

It’s odd because during the first couple of days, despite the beautiful views, I would look forward to resting at night, but a couple days later and I was dreading finishing for the day because I knew sleep would be fitful and I knew it would be cold. So, when 4am rolled around this morning, I was wishing for 6am to come quickly, because I knew once I got up and moving, I would get warm.

I’m awake before my alarm and check in with Simon at 6. He updates me on the weather saying there are a few clouds, but lots of stars too, and he’s sure we will have a clear day. I put my clothes in my sleeping bag for 5 minutes in an attempt to warm them up and get dressed. We make time for a quick coffee – sipping down half a sachet of café con leche each, and we set out at 7am.

The sun is just starting to creep up in the distance, and I try to shake off sleep as we begin the steady ascent from Torres campsite. I am not a strong early morning hiker, but Simon is patient and walks at my pace. But, I’m feeling frustrated at my pace and lack of energy… and soon his sunny disposition is frustrating me too – when really I am just peeved at myself.

In my mind, I feel like I am holding him up and interfering with his plans of finishing in time. I’m also still trying to figure out if I will continue to the backside of the circuit or finish today with Torres and call it a ‘W’. And I think I have come to the conclusion that it’s not that I can’t continue and complete the circuit, but I’m not sure I want to.

The trekking is incredible – yes, it’s physically challenging, but nothing you can’t accomplish if you put your mind to it. What I am struggling with are the nighttime temperatures and discomfort. I feel like if I continue, I’m not going to enjoy it.

Simon is finding ways to encourage me to continue and then says “Maybe you’ve come here to find your spirit again.” At that point, a little piece inside of me wants to kick him down the hill.

When I really think about the reason and the lesson for all of this, I realize that maybe this is my opportunity to learn that sometimes it’s ok to give up and not finish – something I’m not so good at. I stick things out to the bitter end, sometimes to my own detriment. Even when I called home yesterday to check in on my grandmother, when I told my mother my possible change in plans, she said, “Don’t quit. We’re not quitters.” But today, I am going to let myself quit and it is going to feel good.

After crossing a small suspension bridge, we arrived at Chileno campsite and sit down at a picnic table for a water break and a small snack. Simon asks me if I want to continue to Torres. “Por Supuesto,” I respond.

We both notice a drop in temperature and as we’re leaving the campsite, I ask a couple who are packing up how their night was. “Fine,” they respond. “We have a really good tent.” I look at Simon and say, “I must have a really shitty tent and a really shitty sleeping bag!” and I leave it at that and walk on.

From Chileno, we pick up the pace and cover the 3km up to Torres Camp pretty easily. I have shaken my sleepiness off. Now, we have just 1km left, a 250-meter climb to cover, which will take between 45 minutes to 1-hour. I put my head down and go. Often times, Simon looks so far ahead and higher than me, but moments later I am where he just was. The time passes quickly and the three iconic towers become more and more visible. Then, as we make a left turn and ascend just a little more, Torres Del Paine sits majestically in front of us, the three granite rocks towering over an aquamarine glacial lake.

Clouds cover the top of the towers, but while Simon and I devour our sandwiches, the clouds lift and bright blue skies appear. Since we got an early start, we share this view with about ten other hikers.

I move down to the lake to take some pictures, and I realize this is what I came here to see. This is my finale. I will miss Gray Glacier, but I still have Perito Moreno and Fitzroy to look forward to. I will end my Torres hike today with this spectacular view.

Check out the video here

Simon is determined to push on to Seron this afternoon, so we say goodbye and he begins the hike back to camp to pack up. I sit for another 30 minutes just soaking in the scenery, and as I walk away, I keep having to turn around for just one more look and one more photograph – this is just so surreal.

At 12:30, I pull myself away and begin the descent, passing huge numbers of people who are making their way up. When I get to the campsite between Chileno and the Towers, I look up and see what look like ants marching above.

The descent seems never-ending, and I realize just how much climbing we covered this morning. At Chileno, I stop again to watch gauchos lead a group of horses across the river before continuing on.

It’s 3:30 by the time I arrive at the little market outside of Torres. I treat myself to a packed of Kryzpoo (the equivalent of Pringles) and wander over to peek inside the hotel. I decide to treat myself to lunch once I get my tent and gear packed up.

When I get back to the campsite, it’s almost 4pm, and I’m surprised to see Simon’s tent still up. I wave my trekking poles in the air and he waves back. As I get closer, I ask why he’s still here. He tells me how he’s only just arrived himself because of bad knee pain. I find him some paracetamol and gift him my remaining oatmeal and chocolate supply, and he decides to head to Seron and if he’s still in pain tomorrow, he will return to Torres.

We pack up our things and say another goodbye… this time he hugs me twice and says, “one for you and one your grumpy side.” We laugh and he says, “I’m glad I got to know both.”

Anthony and Celine, a couple that I met at the hostel in Puerto Natales are next to us at the campsite. They have been on a different schedule than us, but they have also just returned from Torres so we make plans to meet at the restaurant after packing up.

A few minutes later, I’m ordering a hamburger and a glass of red wine and just moments after that, the British girls, Simran and Feben, arrive and we all share the highs and lows of the trek. During this conversation, I realize just how grueling everyone thought the trek was. I realize again that I have done enough and seen what I came here to see. I couldn’t have asked for better days to see Frances Valley and Torres.

We head outside to board the bus, and I snap one more photo of Torres, still shrouded in clouds, but now pink as the sun begins to set. At Park Administration, we transfer to the main bus back to Puerto Natales, and I watch as we drive away and leave the mountains in the distance. I wonder if I will sleep and the next thing I know, we’re pulling into the bus station in Puerto Natales.

It’s a cool and windy walk back to the hostel, and when I arrive groups of people are enjoying a carb-loaded meal before setting off the following morning to begin their own treks. The three sisters who run this hostel welcome me back and help me get my bags out of storage and up to a room, and within 30 minutes of checking in, I am in bed… a warm, dry, comfortable bed.

Chile, Patagonia, South America, The W Trek, Torres del Paine

Torres del Paine, Day 3: Frances – Las Torres 15 km

March 9, 2016

I manage to sleep until 8, despite dreams of my propane tank exploding and our whole camp being kidnapped ?? It’s chilly and we’re camping on wooden pallets in a dense forest, but I’ve learned that there’s a pull cord on my sleeping bag and I can actually cocoon myself in there. I wrap the top of the sleeping bag around my head and pull the cord as tight as I can, so that only my nose pokes through. This way, I can still breathe!

I’ve also learned that trash bags are a great conductor of heat, as long as I don’t get too warm and start sweating, so last night I climbed into a big black trash bag, and then into my sleeping bag.

It was close to 9 this morning when I finally gathered the courage to brave the cold and change from my camp clothes to my hiking gear. And then came the cruel downward climb to the bathrooms (but they did have hot running water).

The morning scenic walk from Frances to Cuernos

Super Simon – On Top of the World

We had a nice leisurely breakfast – oatmeal and two coffees this morning and I felt rested and energized and took some confidence in knowing that today would be a somewhat easier day – only about 15km, so about 6 1/2 hours.

By the time everything was broken down, Simon and I set off just after 10:30. Once out of the dense forest, I could feel the sun’s warmth and shed my jacket and lathered on sunscreen.

Taking a little time to reflect on the trekking path

For the most part of the morning, we trekked next to a large lake on our right with a pebble beach. To the left were sheer granite rock faces, the backside of Cuernos. We left the snow and glacier capped Paine Grande behind us.

I felt strong and the so-say 2-hour hike from Frances to Cuernos took only 1 1/2 – which was encouraging. We continued on ascending 280 meters where a large rock protruded out over the lake, making it a perfect viewpoint and place for a photo opp.

We felt strong enough to keep ascending before stopping for a snack. This came about 30 minutes later after passing butterflies and small streams – flowing just enough to refill our water bottles. We stopped for a quick snack, but decided to try to get past the day’s half way marker before stopping for lunch. I wanted less than 3 hours to go after lunch, and I didn’t want to rely too heavily on the 30 minutes we may have gained on the first part of the morning’s trek between Frances and Cuernos.

The back side of Los Cuernos

Between a snack and lunch, most of our hike felt like a descent. Although it was a lot of ups and downs, I felt like our ascents were easier than those ascents people were tackling from the other direction, so we spent the afternoon encouraging others coming from the other way – telling them the fantastic views in Valle des Frances were waiting for them.

We stopped for lunch after a long climb, and two sandwiches later, we calculated we had just over two hours to go. I felt strong throughout the afternoon, and spent more time being present on the hike than being concerned over the time. I think this peace of mind came from knowing that we would arrive at Las Torres with plenty of time to set up camp and relax in daylight.

I practiced my Spanish with Simon – colors, days, months and later conjugating verbs – it took my mind off the hills. At the 5-hr mark, the trail led us away from the large lake and into rolling green hills that reminded me more of parts of Northern Scotland than Patagonia.

Afternoon clouds roll in

The view nearing Torres campsite

Clouds were gathering and I remembered that the forecast for Thursday (when I had checked in Puerto Natales) had called for rain. It didn’t look like the rain would wait til Thursday though.

Now, on our left was a smaller lake and as we climbed one last small hill, we could see Torres Hotel in the distance. Relief set in, seeing where we would stop for the night and this must have triggered something in my stomach. Maybe it was the idea of a clean toilet ahead, but I wouldn’t make it to Torres. Instead, I would quickly hand Simon the camera from around my neck and run down the side of a hill to seek the shelter of trees. As I undid my pants, Simon quickly fished out a roll of toilet paper from the top of his pack. And in what looked to be some football maneuver, he would toss the the roll to me and I would (thankfully) catch it while still running half way down the hill. (You’ve hiked, you know what it’s like!)

Relief overshadowed any embarrassment I may have had… but the embarrassment would come next, as I climbed back up the hill, swung my pack back on and began the downhill climb on a relatively steep gravel path to where Simon was waiting for me. As I took a step, my foot slipped out from under me, and I fell backwards on my ass. Luckily, the pack was there to break my fall, but unluckily, I couldn’t stand up again. The weight of my pack paired with being on a gravel incline… well, gravity was against me. And Simon sat at the bottom of the hill, with my camera in his hands, laughing and capturing it all. It took me four or five attempts to stand back up, but it provided us with a couple of good laughs!

Down for the count

Attempting to get up

Almost there!!

When I finally got on my feet again, we crossed a suspension bridge and arrived at Las Torres hotel, which looked as expensive as I heard it is. We continued on another 10 minutes to the campsite and finally arrived around 6pm.

Crossing the suspension bridge to Torres

I was impressed with how quickly Simon and I set up our tents, and we both positioned the zipper openings towards Torres, which sat looming over the campground. Then I proceeded to face plant on to my sleeping pad and lay there for a few minutes, feeling every bone and muscle relax. I could’ve stayed like this for a lot longer, but we managed to get changed and got water to prepare dinner. We also checked the weather and the following day called for p.m. rain. I still wasn’t convinced it would wait til the p.m.

Which way to Torres?

Simon found a free picnic table and we cooked up the remaining pasta. Despite not feeling hungry, I devoured every bite. It was cooling off by the time we finished dinner, and by the time I walked back from the bathroom to get into my tent, it was dark. Simon and I discussed our plans for the morning – to wake early and climb to Torres, weather permitting – and I crawled into my tent to cocoon myself for another night’s sleep. I hoped a grassy campsite and a windless night would be conducive to sleep, and it was for a few hours, but in the wee morning hours I was unfortunately awoken by the sound of rain on my tent… And this is the one day we needed good weather…It was our day to hike to the towers.

Backpacking, Bucket List, Chile, Patagonia, South America, The W Trek, Torres del Paine, Travel

Patagonia – How This Journey Came To Be

March 4, 2016

The desire to see this part of the world started long ago, just before my nomadic life began in 2009, but I guess you could say that despite it taking me eight years to finally make it here, Patagonia was the impetus for me setting off on my travels.

Back in my Sunnyside, Queens apartment in December of 2008, I was celebrating finishing my master’s degree and looking to plan a little get away between Christmas and New Year. Patagonia was where I wanted to go. Something about the raw beauty at the opposite end of the world intrigued me. Just the pictures alone made me want to jump on a plane.

After checking with my other broke friends in NYC and looking at the points in my Delta frequent flyer account, we quickly decided Rio was more feasible and affordable, so Patagonia took a back seat and there it sat for the next eight years.

Over these years, my travels would take me to Southeast Asia, Australia, India, Eastern Europe, Central America, Canada and even North Africa. The large continent of South America was somewhere I knew I wanted to go, but somewhere I wanted to go with the right amount of time and the right budget.

Over the years, the intrigue and desire to see Patagonia would grow… almost to the point where the thought of this trip took on a larger than life persona. I treasured the place before I visited and it became a dream trip… one I became hesitant to take, simply for the fact that I wouldn’t have it to look forward to anymore. I told everyone for years that Patagonia was the number one place on my bucket list, yet I was in no hurry to get here.

However, in January, I found myself with 4 ½ months before I had to return to work, some extra cash stashed away from my seasonal work, and the desire for a longer adventure… the time was right for South America, and the main reason for the trip was to finally visit Patagonia.