PATAGONIA SKI EXPLORATION: Chilean Couloirs, Corn and Condors
The mountains of Patagonia are mysterious. Rocky ridgelines falling into rolling farmland make up most of this unique landscape south of the equator. Horrendous weather patterns tend to linger for weeks on end, loading the mountains with deep snow. We were ready to explore the mystery, a place of first descents and solitude. Thus, Forrest Coots, Petit Pinson, Danny Sullivan, Rodolfo Quiros and I began our adventure into the Cerro Castillo Mountains of Chilean Patagonia.
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After late nights in Santiago, skiing at Valle Nevado, frantic food shopping and meticulous packing, our crew hit the hills with 11 days worth of expedition gear on our backs. Muddy sheep trails on foot gave way to dense tree thickets on skins, each footstep and heavy breath stoking the fire for steep lines and deep open bowls. We settled in a streambed valley where we set up basecamp in a snowstorm after a long day of climbing in and out of treeline.
Somehow whiskey shows up on most backcountry missions. We used the persuasive “drink it blue” technique to break up the clouds that had blanketed our basecamp with snow for the first two days. The whiskey worked wonders! With a high pressure system for the next five days, we broke up into two teams and explored every possible ski line in our single valley playground. Each morning we caffeinated, fumbled through gear and made our way on skis to the base of the 3000-foot couloirs. The morning skin provided individual moments of reflection that soon gave way to sweating and swearing during the arduous hip deep boot packs on 50+ degree slopes. Naturally, this also meant 50+ degree descents. Heavy breathing gave way to breath taking views at the crest of each peak. In every direction endless jagged rocky peaks and wide open bowls begged to be skied. As we focused on our runs, massive Patagonian Condors circled overhead, soaring through the pink hue of the sunset. Communicating via radio, each of us carved our signature track into the magically dense, yet powdery Chilean snow. With each turn we played touch and go with our sluff, a constant reminder to play it safe in this remote “middle of no where” terrain. Our euphoric post-ski laughter echoed throughout the rock formations as we reached the bottom of the couloirs. Back at our Mountain Hardwear compound, the moon growing in the evening sky, we feasted on simple food, reliving the day’s events and anxiously awaiting the next objective.
For five days we enjoyed this simple routine: Wake, eat, climb, ski, cheer, rest, reflect, eat, sleep. Throughout the week, powder changed to sun soaked slop and isolated pockets of corn. Like all wild snow, it was a variable yet welcomed challenge for the mission. As the week progressed, ticking off first descents each day, we became completely fulfilled with what we had accomplished. What we had discovered was a special place, and in the process we shared a mutual passion for adventure and wild places that the solace of beautiful backcountry landscapes inspire.
During the last two days of the trip clouds rolled in and out of the valley, bringing the sounds and smells of spring. Flocks of wild parakeets and budding trees reminded us that life does exist in this area, not evidenced when we first arrived. The sagging, smelly tents and the water logged Powder magazine signified that our days in the mountains were coming to a close as we would be seeking the comforts of a hot shower and fresh food. We had traveled for thousands of miles to carve our tracks into these mountains, all of which have already melted away. On the walk out I took a deep breath of spring air. As I peered back over my shoulder at all we had done I began to wonder where our next ski adventure might take us. In which mountains does the next mystery await?