If you’re an avid backpacker, and you have ever thought about doing a trip in South America, you’ve doubtlessly heard of Torres del Paine National Park in Chile. And even if you haven’t, you would recognize some of the sights from magazines, books, and television. Within the park, there are many backpacking options but most travelers do either the “W” circuit which visits a number of the main sights on the southern portion of the main geologic feature of the park, the Cordillera Paine, while the extended “O” circuit does an extra section which loops around the northern side of the Cordillera del Paine. The “W” hike usually takes 3-5 days and the “O” can take anywhere from 6-10 days depending on speed and side trips.

The full excursion, which I’ll describe here, includes the full “O” along with side trips into the Vallé del Frances (French Valley) and another to Mirador Torres (Tower View). There are many variations on these loops, and people start from a number of different spots, so keep in mind I’m just describing my specific trip.

Torres del Paine National Park

Torres del Paine National Park lies around 51 degrees south latitude, very far south toward the southern tip of Chile in the region known as Patagonia. The main massif is composed of huge granite spires rising up to 2,800 meters above the glacial lakes, some of which are topped by the dark remnants of the long-ago eroded sedimentary rock. Some of the large glaciers connect to the huge Southern Patagonian Ice Field, which coats much of the southern Andes.

If you’re looking for solitude, this isn’t the hike for you. But for backpackers who enjoy fairly easy walking among jaw-dropping scenery, and the most backpacker friendly logistics for a trip on the other side of the world, then do not miss this hike. Embrace the cultural melting pot that is created by drawing lovers of the outdoors from all corners of the globe. Expect all sorts of weather from cold rain to howling wind to hot still afternoons. The busiest months are January and February, but hiking is usually good from late November through mid-April.

Although I didn’t see much large wildlife while on the trek, I saw guanacos (a type of llama) and the ñandú (Lesser Rhea, a large flightless bird) as well as a condor. This is to say, if you’ve made the journey to hike in the park, make sure to take a few days if you can to visit other parts of it. There are many other beautiful aspects and abundant wildlife.

Before describing my 2013 hike, I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention the devastating effect fire has had on the park. The constant winds and often dry grasses and trees combined with careless backpackers has led to some massive fires, including one that burned 150 square kilometers in 1985, one that burned 155 square kilometers in 2005, and in late 2011 and early 2012, a fire destroyed 176 square kilometers, much of which was old growth forest. There are no open fires allowed and all cooking should be highly controlled. And now on to the adventure!

A Hike on the O Circuit Begins

As I had already been in the park for a few days with my folks, I had a shuttle take me to the Hosteria Las Torres. You can leave a bag there, with the stuff that you’re not brining on the hike, for a nominal fee. Behind the hotel, high peaks with glaciers falling down their sides rose tantalizingly close. I followed a 4wd track to the northeast where to my right, rolling fields, lakes, and mountains rose gently toward Argentina while the hulking massif towered over my left shoulder. The path was easy and wandered through beautiful forests and open fields. When I came upon the burnt trunks of what must have been a beautiful stand of trees, and I felt the strong wind on my face, I understood first-hand the effects of fire here. One small flame can irrevocably change a landscape.

This first day was just an easy nine kilometers and when I arrived at the Campamento (camp) Serón, I set up my tent at the edge of a field with about twenty other tents. This was a wild place? It seemed more like an international hiker’s convention. Even though I was on the supposed “quiet” side of the loop, as many fewer people do the “O” than the “W”, clearly “quiet” was relative. If it wasn’t already, it became readily apparent that this hike was going to be visually stunning, though without real solitude. I knew that going in, however, and all the people were very nice. I ended up chatting with hikers from Switzerland, Israel, Germany, Argentina, Chile, France, and probably a few others I can’t remember. Luckily for me, English was the common language.

I quickly fell asleep in my one-man tent, and awoke to another beautiful sunny day. I had briefly chatted with a young American hiker named Justin the previous night, and we created an informal partnership for the next few days. We hiked along the glacial sediment filled Rio Paine as the wind started to pick up a bit. Eventually a solid twenty-minute climb took us up and over Windy Pass, and let me tell you, that feature deserves its name! In about the space of twenty meters, a gentle breeze turned into a steady wind of 70-80k with gusts of 100k! I could literally lean into the wind, with my backpack on and not fall over.

I was glad I had poles and still had to watch my footing as we traversed along a contour and gradually descended using an amazingly gentle trail as the steep slope dropped below our feet on the right and the wind continually tried to relinquish our stability to the force of gravity. At the bottom of the slope, Lago (lake) Paine rippled with miniature tornados while not-so-distant peaks displaying a prominent hard-edged treeline started to become obscured in menacingly grey clouds.

The clouds lowered, and so did the rain, so we just put our heads down and busted out the kilometers until we arrived at the Refugio Dickson. Sitting in an open field just a few hundred meters from the edge of Lago Dickson, the building was packed with people all trying to dry out their gear around an overburdened woodstove. The rain eventually stopped and for about thirty seconds I was relieved, so I started to set up my tent.

And then the little monsters hit. Within moments I was swarmed by thirsty hordes of mosquitos, clearly desperate for some North American blood. I tried to bite back, but they were too quick so I got in my tent, killed the remaining dozen or so that managed to squeeze in during the brief moment I had entered, and was glad I had brought some audiobooks as I lay down much earlier than normal. Apparently the 19 kilometers was enough to send me into a dream state quickly, and I woke up the next day refreshed and ready to go, albeit with slightly less blood.

The third day was another short one. Very short actually, just 9 kilometers, but involved a beautiful walk through the woods with early views back to Lago Dickson and the Glaciar Dickson. Compared to the open terrain in which I had been walking, here the forest was lush, with moss-covered trees, alien mushrooms, and a forest radiant with dappled golden light. The route went along and then over the raging Rio de los Perros with a large waterfall visible from the trail.

Around a kilometer from the Campamento Los Perros the trail popped out into open terrain as it skirted over large boulders on the terminal moraine that abutted the lake below the Glacier Los Perros. The wind was ferocious as I made it to the edge of the lake then quickly went down into the trees to the camp.

As the conditions over the upcoming pass (Paso John Gardner) had been treacherous, hikers from the previous day had stayed over, and it was crowded. I wandered around camp and onto the moraines above as the sun set over the high ridge of mountains to the west and the braided rivers coming down off the nearby glaciers shone iridescent silver in the low angled light. The days were long and I ended up asleep even before the light completely vanished from the sky.

Most people seem to consider the climb up Paso John Gardner as the most difficult section, and in inclement weather I could see how the alpine terrain in a whiteout could lead to scary situations. The approximate 650-meter climb was very straightforward for me however, and the effort was mitigated by the incredible views. Huge glaciers dropped off of Mts. Condor and Amistad as the recently snow-dusted peaks to the south and east went in and out of the clouds.

Popping up over the pass, my jaw dropped. Ahead of me the Grey Glacier spread out like a wide river of ice. Even though this was just the tip of the much larger glaciers coming down from the huge Southern Patagonian Ice Field, it was still about six kilometers across. The ice bent in seemingly impossible directions which forced crevasses to ripple across the surface of the glacier. The large outlet lake was visible five or six kilometers to the south.

This experience was one of the few times in my life that I had a hard time adjusting to scale. The boulders continued down the mountainside into an abrupt line of trees, which seemed to extend most of the way down to the glacier. I couldn’t tell what was one hundred meters, or one thousand away.

The path slowly wound its way through the boulders, and although not difficult, it was all that I could do to pull my eyes from the incredible sight below and watch where I was going. The trail headed down into the forest as it traveled south along the glacier, eventually contouring along a path 100-200 meters above the edge. Not far from camp, an incredible viewpoint next to a river, which seemingly fell right into the glacier, provided an unobstructed view.

Although I was antsy to get some more distance, I knew I would be heading into the crowded section, and wanted to enjoy a night knowing I’d wake up one more morning with views towards the glacier. So I set up my tent about ten meters from an overlook at the Campamento Paso. I had a nice conversation with a group of Chilean college students on break and enjoyed a large bowl of instant flavored rice before once again retreating to my tent to escape the mosquitos.

I woke up to a misty morning. The pleasant mist rapidly turned into a deluge so I saw no point in hanging around and hit the trail. The route itself was fairly straightforward as it went in and out of the woods, hugging the walls of the glaciated valley it slowly lost elevation, but two major river crossings made for some grey-hair inducing moments. Huge metal ladders led down to the banks of these rivers, which was sending large amounts of water down through a tight rocky notch and eventually underneath the glacier. There was no way to avoid wet feet, with a rope helping during the crossing.

After crossing a cool suspension bridge and another great view of the toe of the glacier, the trail came to Refugio Grey. This modern structure provided a nice café where I was able to get a lunch. One can reserve rooms there as well as tent outside. I took the opportunity to follow a short trail out to a small inlet in Lago Grey where ice chunks and some larger icebergs filled the still water with a plethora of unique shapes and sizes.

I continued to follow the trail south, passing many more people out doing the “W” circuit as well as those who were doing day hikes based out of the refugios and the boats from the few hotels in the park. The trail climbed through a forest that had recently been destroyed by a large fire. Eventually it hit a ridge where once again the wind picked up but allowed for incredible views of Lago Grey as it passed by smaller glacial tarns.

The trail led down to the Refugio Paine Grande, which was situated near the shores of Lago Pehoé. Originally planning to camp in the associated campground, I arrived to find the recently denuded landscape which had been devastated by the large fire a few years back. This created a situation where the wind was so fierce, many people were unable to set up their tents and a few even blew away as the poles snapped. I decided to get a room with meals and a shower and spent the evening in the bar watching the Super Bowl. I was glad to have a bed after hiking 21 kilometers through rough rivers and high winds.

The next day ended up being my longest day, 26 kilometers. During the morning hours the trail wandered through open windswept terrain with incredible views toward Los Cuernos (the horns) and Cerro Espada (sword peak). Los Cuernos is a range of peaks that are easily identifiable since the bottom half is composed of brown rock with trees climbing part way up, then a distinct layer of very light rock with another sharply defined layer of dark rock at the summits.

After about 7.5 kilometers, I crossed a bridge over the Rio Francés and arrived at the Campamento Italiano. This was mostly closed for camping as they were trying to restore some of the areas. I dropped my pack and grabbed a few things for a 13 kilometer out and back to the viewpoint in the Valle Francés. The trail leads into the heart of the Cordillera Paine as it climbs steadily along the Rio Francés and past the huge Glaciar Francés, which falls steeply off the eastern side of the Cerro Paine Grande all the way down to the valley where huge crevasses were evidence of the glacier’s movement.

The 360-degree panorama in the Valle Francés is stunning as the sharp points of over a dozen named peaks jutted imposingly into the sky. I was hard-pressed not to just stay there for the whole afternoon, soaking in the rugged landscape, but I had more kilometers to make and the Campamento Britanico in the Valle Francés was closed to campers.

I hurried back down the trail enjoying the views over the many large lakes to the south and was happy to find my backpack intact, which I’d like to think was partially due to my having put the nastiest pair of socks I own directly on top. The remaining 5.5 kilometers to the Campamento Los Cuernos involved a fairly easy walk above and then down to the shores of Lago Nordenskjold where a grey pebbled beach convinced me to relax by the lake as I watched swirling clouds pick up the late day sun.

When I arrived at the refugio and campamento I was glad to have my tent, as the place was a madhouse. There were hundreds of people using every tent site and filling up the refugio. Luckily, I headed down to the shore and found a great spot set back from the lake. Prior campers had smoothed out the ground and had built a rock wall, which sheltered me from the wind. This was probably my favorite campsite of the trip and I was glad to be separated from the crowds just a few hundred meters away.

On the seventh day of the trip, I followed the trail, which initially wound above and along Lago Nordenskjold. The large mountains rose up to my left as the less rugged, but also impressive series of cliffs, hills, and plateaus were visible on the far side of the lake. In this more traveled section of the route, nice bridges crossed some fairly significant rivers and eventually I came to a shortcut on the left that connected me to the trail that climbed up the Valle Ascencio.

A Conclusion to the O Circuit

I climbed steadily up a nice graded path as the Rio Ascencio rolled down the valley to my right. It started to rain and a few kilometers up the valley I crossed over the river and took a little break in the Refugio El Chileno. Folks were not happy, as they had just run out of water at the refugio. I filtered some water from the river, headed up the trail through a forest with large, then increasingly small and weathered trees to the Campamento Torres. I set up my tent in a small space between two trees after checking in with the ranger there. Just beyond the camp I was able to get a peek up toward the Torres and got excited for the next day. I went to bed early that night so that I’d be well rested for the next morning.

Both because I wanted to catch the early morning light, and I needed to have my camp cleared by 10am (a rule), I, along with most of the other hikers got up at 4am. It was very cold and I put on all the clothing that I had as I slowly climbed the trail up the through the rocks to the lake below the Torres. As daylight began to infiltrate the scene I saw the three Torres Del Paine, with their distinctive peaks and shear vertical walls rising high above. These mountains are apparently major destinations for rock climbers but from my vantage point I had a hard time believing folks could get up them.

When the sun finally peeked over the horizon to the east, the towers radiated a hue which shifted quickly from red to pink to golden orange as the shadows from nearby peaks crept lower and lower down the faces. It was windy and still very cold, but the sight made the suffering worthwhile as we all just stood there marveling in the beauty. I truly understood why the park was named after these Torres and I was glad to have saved this part of the trip until the last day.

Eventually the light shifted to regular daylight, and I went back down to the camp, packed up, and took the trail all the way back to the Hosteria Las Torres where I picked up my bag. I walked another kilometer over to the refugio and Campamento Las Torres where I took a much-needed shower, shared conversation with a few folks I had met along the way, and got on a bus to El Califate.

My Daily Distance

Day 1 – 9 kilomters
Day 2 – 19 kilometers
Day 3 – 9 kilometers
Day 4 – 12 kilometers
Day 5 – 21 kilometers
Day 6 – 26 kilometers
Day 7 – 17 kilometers
Day 8 – 15 kilometers

Need to Know

Information & Getting There

Although this is Chile, many people speak English. There are a few hotels in the park including the incredibly luxurious Explora Hotel. Some people come from Argentina and some come from Chile, but you’ll still most likely need to fly into Santiago or Buenes Aires before taking another mode of transportation down there. One common place to go is to the outdoor adventuring center of the region, El Calafate in Argentina. From there you can go to many attractions such as visiting the incredible Perito Moreno Glacier. Check the web for current travel prices and other ideas for traveling in the area. Exchange rates are always changing, especially in Argentina, so be aware that the value of your dollar could go up or down when planning the trip.

Best Time to Go

I was there in late January and early February and that is right in the middle of the high season. You could probably see fewer people if you went at the hiking season’s edge, in late November or early April, as December through March is the busiest period.

Maps

There’s a simple map provided by the CONAF which is the governmental organization that manages the national parks. I used the tear and water resistant Torres del Paine Trekking Map by Zagier & Urruty Publications.

Books

There are a number of books including Lonely Planet guides but I’m a big fan of Cicerone Guides. The book Torres del Paine – Trekking in Chile’s Premier National Parks by Rudolf Abraham, has nice photos, ample information, and it has a nice light water resistant cover and pages and fits in a jacket pocket.

Editor's Note: This article by contributor Eli Burakian originally appeared in Issue 23 of TrailGroove Magazine. You can read the original article here for additional photos and content.