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D L M M J V S Objetivo: Poincenot Trek

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13 de diciembre
29 30 31 Distancia: 30 kilómetros
Parque Nacional Los Glaciares, Argentina

Friday would be the longest day from a pure trekking standpoint.

And from a sightseeing perspective, it would not disappoint. We rose at
8:00 and had our fill of oats and raisins, said “good-bye” to Ricardo and
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headed due southeast toward the Poincenot and Río Blanco Base Camps.
The first hour was the same as when we came up two days ago: shady
and well-marked, one lazy creek and several fallen trees.
At the one-hour mark, we came to a fork in the trail. Knowing that
we were close to the turn, yet unsure about where it was, we decided to
split-up for better coverage. We wandered in different directions before
finally meeting back at the trail head some
fifteen minutes later. While roaming solo,
Andy spotted a large cattle skull with a dirty red
bandanna hooked through the left eye socket. The crude
signpost was meant to alert trekkers of the turn south toward the
Rio Blanco and Poincenot base camps.
We went straight a bit further than necessary, crossed another stream
and turned right onto what was clearly not a path. Andy wanted to push
on, but I was reluctant. Fortunately,
we crossed the stream again and found
a minefield of small rock piles
indicating the path to Poincenot and Río
Blanco. We set off down this path for
almost two solid hours. Most of that
time was spent walking along the rocky
west bank of Río Blanco. The trail
markers eventually led us back into the
forest. At noon, we paused on a large
tree stump for a lunch of dried fruit,
almonds and raisins. After a fifteen-
minute rest, we were rolling again.

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l Shortly thereafter, we came to what most golfers would consider a
serious dog leg right. The footing was tricky, but we decided to play
through. Much to our surprise upon rounding the bend, the trail
completely disappeared at the confluence of two fast-moving mountain
riachuelos. Both streams were the product of the melting mass directly
to our west, Glaciar Piedras Blancas.
We stopped at this crossing called Piedras Blancas to take photographs.
Here we met a middle-aged porteño named Gabriel who was vacationing
with some friends in the park. He introduced
himself and told us about his vacation and
Glacier & Crossing his work in Buenos Aires as a chemical
products importer for a U.S. medical
company. We were heading in opposite
directions but agreed to catch up at the
Poincenot C.B. where we would all be

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Piedras Blancas camping that night.
Approximately one hour later, we reached
Poincenot and set up the Trango. With our tent
poles again planted in solid ground, we prepared a simple pasta lunch
and chilled for about thirty minutes. Once our carbohydrate levels were
restored, we were ready for the second trek of the day: a one-hour hike
from base camp west to Lago de los Tres. This was to be a relatively
straightforward trek as a trail from the Poincenot base camp goes straight
uphill to the base of Mount Fitz Roy. In fact, this route is so direct,
many of the escaladores choose it as a departure point for their climbs.
We made short work of the trail and reached the top in under an
hour. This turned out to be one of the most memorable views of the
entire trip. We found ourselves riachuelo: stream
piedras blancas: white rocks
on the bank of Lago de los Tres, a C.B.: common trail abbreviation for base
beautiful, greenish-blue lake that camp. The typical trail/map marking for a
base camp or shelter is j.
feeds off of Glaciar de los Tres. Lago de los Tres: Lake of the 3.
The water originates on the escaladores: mountain climbers.
Literally, a climber of stairs. An escalera
glacier, flows into the lake and is a ladder or a stairway.
eventually flows out via a giant sucio: dirty. The word for dirt is tierra
waterfall on the lake’s southern and polvo means dust. The opposite of
sucio is limpio (clean) and the state of
bank. The waterfall extends an cleanliness is limpieza.
impressive 1,000 feet straight jueves el 13: Friday the 13th

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 Lago de los Tres
Nikon in hand.... “Don’t drink the water”

Andy captures the moment Lago Sucio

down to a milky-green body of water aptly named Lago Sucio.

Thoroughly enjoying the tranquility of this mountain oasis, Andy
broke out his Nikon for some glacier pics while I skipped rocks across
the chilly lake. Just to make things more interesting, Andy dared me to
jump from the bank to a large rock approximately twelve feet out in the
lake. Immediately, I began an exhaustive back-of-the-envelope physics
calculation taking such factors as distance, rock surface area, water
temperature, potential boot soakage, pride and personal stupidity into
consideration. Three seconds later I had completed my analysis and was
ready for the aerial assault. Had I remembered that it was jueves el 13, I
might have reconsidered.
I did a couple of practice runs just to get a good feel for the approach.
I had seen Robbie Knievel perform a similar routine before his big jumps,
so I knew that this would both mentally prepare me and simultaneously
impress my spectator. Standing in awe, Andy watched my runs, heckled
me and steadied his Nikon for what he hoped would be a watery descent.
Once the crowd had quieted down, I began my final approach by sprinting
toward the lake and planting my right foot just inches short of the icy
water. Mid-flight, my heart rate spiked and I felt like I was going to
make it clean. Extending my left leg as far as it would go, I was able to
make contact with the slippery rock with my left boot. Despite landing
on solid rock, the entire right side of my body was left out of the victory
celebration, and my right leg plunged underwater, or rather
underOH$#!%thisisfreezingwater. For some reason though, the cold and
wet didn’t really bother me. I was too busy striking a pose for the camera-
toting fan back onshore. This was a proud moment at the midway point
of our young Patagonia adventure.

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 A R G E N T I N A
The jacket had a purpose, and so did the boy.
His purpose in Life was to travel.
-Paulo Coelho

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j After two hours of exploring Lago de los Tres, we were exhausted
and ready to head home to base camp. Our descent began at 19:00 and
lasted a mere thirty minutes. Arriving back at Poincenot around 19:30,
we pitched the tent, dined on polenta and sausage and both nearly froze
washing the plates in a
nearby stream. The
eastern winds really
started to howl, and a
heavy line of clouds soon
obscured the Fitz Roy
summit. I updated our
journal until 22:30 when
deep south thoughts
it was, once again, lights out in the Patagonia.

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