Today our plan was to visit Ventisquero Colgante (hanging glacier) on our route South, another recommendation from our rafting guide and American teacher in Futu. Being a Saturday and off season no boats were running meaning our long-anticipated first decent sized walk. We could have been walking in the Waitakeres but for our destination and is often the case back home avoiding mud became one of two main challenges on this expedition; the other tackling a steep ascent in our restrictive motorcycle pants. Ditching our pants a third of the way up in a hide-out to be collected on the way down we continued in our longjohns.
The Chilean DOC equivalent records this as a 21/2 round trip but as always this was overcompensating the difficulty level. That said it was pretty much a continual incline to get as close as possible to the glacier. This was my first experience of these ice formations so I cannot offer much comparison, though in time we should see a few in this area of Patagonia. It is called the hanging glacier because it has the appearance of falling over the cliff, like an avalanche rolling down a mountainside before been frozen in time with a superhuman power. A waterfall gushes off the side and while we were admiring the view parts of ice cracked off followed by a time delay of thunderous crackling, the sound heightened by the echo bouncing off neighbouring cliff faces.
Unfortunately the battery on our camera had accidentally been left on meaning the photo above is the only we have. No worries though as I have included a picture from another blog below! This also meant we were unable to capture the day's terrain. At parts we felt as if we could be in the jungles of Guatamala as the caraterra narrowed in order to push its way through the dense bush surrounding us on both sides, weaving its way to the highest point where it broke open to reveal more snow-drenched mountain tops about the same time as we felt the mercury on the temperature guage falling close to even.
Stopping briefly at the next small town for some empanadas we said hello to some cyclists filling up their Whisperlite at the gas station, again mystified at their ability to tackle the gravel roads and continual inclnes. The day ended in Coihaique at Dona Hermaina's hospedaje, another cosy night spent being looked after by another sweet lady.
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