El Chaltén zaczarował nas. Następnego dnia wypiliśmy po małym kieliszku likieru z calafate. Dla pewności. I ruszyliśmy dalej, w górę Ruta 40, dobrowolnie oddaliśmy się w ręce patagońskich stepów.
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El Chaltén, the mountain capital of Argetina, welcomed us with wind. There is nothing strange about it – El Chaltén is not only the base for climbing Fitz Roy, the most coveted peak of Argentinian Patagonia, but also for expeditions to the Ice Field. For spending 8 days in the ice world you need to pay through the nose – in American dollars and your own sweat. The reasons are unpredictable weather conditions, a 25-kilogram load on your back, a very high risk of hypothermia, physical and mental exhaustion. But El Chaltén is also a generous place – one of the very few places where you don't have to pay to enter a national park and where without extreme effort you can come close to a world of exceptional beauty. Our mini expedition to the mountains lasted 6 hours, started in pouring rain, finished in the sun and filled us with energy stronger than tired legs. We felt really lucky during this hike – we walked alone through an ancient forest full of trees grown over by green hair, warped by time and icy winds, we stood alone in front of the glacier, we watched the ice come down from the mountains, watched it cut the rocks like a knife, then become a glacial lake and in turn a peppermint-couloured river. Fitz Roy, called El Chaltén (the smoking mountain) by the indigenous Tehuelche community, after a hew hours of shyness and hiding behind a cloud, showed all its splendour to us in the end. We listened to ice explosions - they were reaching us from beyond the mountains, multiplied by echo. We drank from a river whose waters broke free from the glacier after hundreds if not thousands of years of captivity. We looked at a valley created by the glacier, with our bare eyes we could see the signs of the ice drama that had taken place here.
El Chaltén cast a spell on us.The next day we had a wee glass of calafate liquor each. Just in case. And then we moved on, up Ruta 40, voluntarily handing ourselves in to the patagonian steppes.
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