Torres del Paine is the most popular hiking destination in Patagonia by quite some way. In the height of the trekking season in the long summer days of January and February, hundreds of hikers hit its trails every day to enjoy some of the most spectacular landscapes in South America. The popularity of routes like the W Trek means that every year there are more and more hikers, turning high season into the season of the crowds.
But what if there was a way to experience the beauty of Torres del Paine another way? At Swoop we’re big advocates of its lesser known trails, but I was eager to explore a different side of the park altogether by visiting completely out of season. I’d heard that winter was a particularly fantastic time to experience the national park, when much of the infrastructure shuts down for the season, but a few places keep their doors open for hardy hikers eager to see Torres del Paine in the snow. With that in mind, I packed some extra thermals and headed to join Swoop’s W Trek in Winter tour.
Into an empty landscape
It was only when we arrived at Refugio Paine Grande that it hit me just how different Torres del Paine was going to be when it wore its winter face. This refugio has a near perfect location right next to the catamaran dock on the northern shore of Lago Pehoé, with the Paine Grande Massif looming spectacularly over it. This means that it’s a fantastically popular place to stay. If we’d been visiting in the height of summer its dormitories would have been fully booked out with around a hundred hikers and its camping grounds would have been dotted with several dozen brightly coloured tents.
Instead, we had the entire place to ourselves. Paine Grande is the only refugio that stays open over winter, but it still felt utterly extraordinary that we could be the only guests. It was slightly disorienting at first, a bit like going into school when it was closed for the holidays.
The more we explored, the more the extraordinary started to become normal. On the French Valley hike, which forms the middle leg of the W Trek, there were no other hikers. After a while I stopped looking out for them. When we returned to the refugio that night, our guides Fernando and Mauricio told us that we were the only hikers in the entirety of Torres del Paine. It felt like the national park had been turned into a private reserve purely for us.
A private national park?
Torres del Paine put on its best face for its only guests. It was only the start of winter, so we still had all the all the reds and golds of autumn on the trees to brighten the scene, lit up by clear winter sunshine alongside the cold turquoise of Lago Pehoé. There hadn’t been much snowfall in most places, though there was usually enough to leave a footprint at least. Instead, we had the glassy cracks of ice between our feet as we walked through shallow streams that had frozen overnight.
It was extraordinarily beautiful, but even though there was no one to pass on the trail, that didn’t mean that we always had time to linger. The frosty temperatures were one reason, but the short winter days meant we had to hike at a brisker pace than usual to complete each route. Winter in Torres del Paine demands a good level of fitness as well as an eagerness to meet a challenge. At the height of summer, you can enjoy around 18 hours of daylight, but as May turned into June, we had barely half that. The sun rose around nine in the morning and was gone before six in the evening. This led to some intense hikes: one day we squeezed in 16 miles (26 km) in those short hours. Although our days were shorter, we were blessed with the Patagonian winters biggest gift: clear skies and virtually no wind.
An unfortunate flight delay meant that we had arrived a little too late to do the walk to the base of the Towers, but the French Valley hike more than made up for it. The highlight was our arrival at the viewpoint Mirador French Glacier, where we saw two silent avalanches on the distant slopes near the hanging glacier.
We got used to the sight of condors soaring above us, but I never expected to come across them on the ground. On this hike we did: a father sitting on a crag less than 20 metres away from us, with his enormous wings outstretched to catch the thin warmth of the sun. Next to him was a juvenile with his wings equally spread. Young condors can stay with their parents for up to five years, but it was utterly entrancing to see them so close. It was something we could never have hoped to experience if we had been sharing the trail with dozens of other hikers.
Traces of the past
After doing two legs of the W Trek, I transferred to Explora Torres del Paine, the only luxury lodge in the park that keeps its doors open throughout the winter. From here, I was promised trails that would really show what the Torres del Paine can really be like in the depths of winter.
My guide, Francisco, took me out on the Aonikenk Trail from Explora. This was a chance to see a side of the park that many visitors don’t have the opportunity to see in high season, when guides concentrate on the more popular routes.
The Aonikenk Trail connects the two eastern gates of the path, following the gently rolling pampas rather than heading up into the mountains. It’s perfect for short winter days as it’s only around five miles (eight kilometres) in each direction. That didn’t mean it was to be underestimated however, the route is very exposed to anything that the Patagonian weather can throw at it, and the trail was covered in thick snow. On the walk to French Valley the powder had been very light, but here it completely blanketed the ground. The calafate bushes had turned into giant soft marshmallows, and the snow crunched deep underfoot as I took every step. At times it was up to the middle of my calves.
The combination of the snow and the still air seemed to muffle every sound we made. But not all sounds. From time to time we would hear the bark of a distant guanaco. They were the spotters of a scattered herd, keeping a careful watch for pumas.
It was good hunting territory, although the fresh snow kept reminding us that we were the only people who had passed through for some days. Several thousand years ago, the picture would have been rather different. As we walked, Fernando and Mercedes told us about the Aonikenk and Tehuelche, the nomadic people who were Torres del Paine’s first inhabitants, who had hunted guanacos and rheas here. At the end of the trail, we got to better understand their significance: tucked into a small cave there was a series of rock paintings. More than 6000 years ago or more, a group or Aonikenk had left their mark here with berry-red handprints and simple figures of people and guanacos. They were haunting, as if the artists had left us a message that we couldn’t understand, but as the only people for miles around we felt compelled to try to decipher.
A final encounter
On my last morning, I went for a ride from the lodge with a gaucho guide on a horse that was white enough to match the season. For the first time since I got to Torres del Paine, the landscape was shrouded in mist. The ride was a gentle one, but the weather made it feel like as much an adventure into the past as the Aonikenk paintings, as we chatted in Spanish about living the gaucho life since he was a young boy.
Halfway through the ride, our horses stopped and bristled. After a moment’s contemplation, he tugged at the reins and trotted on, explaining that the horses had smelled a puma that had just passed nearby. We looked for tracks but couldn’t see any – many of the guides say spotting pumas in the winter is easier as they stand out against the snow.
But it was still exciting to know that out there in the mist, we had come across another resident of Torres del Paine, perhaps equally surprised to have come across people crossing its tracks. It was winter after all—a time when you quickly come to appreciate the silent pleasures of having one of South America’s greatest national parks entirely to yourself.
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