The French Valley

I have a confession to make: I don't "get" hiking.

Hiking is up there with parades and office Christmas parties in my list of things that everyone else seems to get excited about but which do nothing for me. It's mostly just a long boring walk with many miles between you and the nearest proper toilet. If you don't at least have a dog with you that you're trying to tire out, you've wasted a perfectly good afternoon that could be better spent enjoying an adult beverage in the presence of like-minded individuals.

That said, we spent our second day at Torres del Paine hiking up the French Valley that bisects the massif (the middle peak in the "W" tour). Our streak of uncharacteristically good weather finally broke as the infamous Patagonian winds showed up and demonstrated why this area has such a blighted and blasted look. As for the scenery, once you're right up against the mountains and can't see the iconic towers, it doesn't look all that different from Kananaskis country back home, making us realize that we take for granted how nice the Rockies are.

The highlight for me was the most decrepit bridge over white-waters I've ever seen: missing boards, rusted nails pulled 3/4 of the way out, etc. They probably considered filming the final sequence of "Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom" here but then decided it was too over-the-top.

After a moderate 7.5 km we stopped for lunch a ways up the valley. At this point we had the option of continuing another steep 1.5 km to another lookout, or making our own way back down the mountain. Above us was a viewpoint with a fantastic vista of one of the most famous mountains on Earth; below us was a lodge with indoor bathrooms and a bar. Our choice was clear, though I'm saddened to report the bar was out of the beer I liked.

(Written on Dec 26.)