The Iconic Mount FitzRoy
We had heard that the ticket booth wasn’t in operation until 7:30, so we planned to get there before then and pass for free. To anyone disapproving of us avoiding the entrance fees, know that they are not popular with the town or local residents. In fact, the locals are the ones telling tourists how to bypass them. All around town you’ll see signs stating ‘montañas libres’, protesting the price hike. Talking to locals here, many stated that while it might seem busy, many of the usual hostels are not open even now in the peak season. The huge hike in prices has significantly reduced the number of tourists here and I’m pretty sure the locals aren’t seeing any of that extra money. Apparently, they are so against it that the officials are coming all the way from El Calafate each day, as the people in the town won’t do it. Although I don't know if that part is true. Therefore, we decided that we would not pay the fees (we couldn’t afford it anyway, although that isn’t the point here), but we did make an effort to go out and support the local economy instead by eating and drinking out in the town.
It’s easy enough to bypass in reality. But for some reason we got our timings a little wrong, leaving Ruby at about 6:40, still in the dark. We had also decided we didn’t want to pack up and drive across town, which added about 2.5km onto the start of the hike. So we set off in the cold dark morning, fully equipped for the day ahead.
By the time we reached the other side, it was coming up to 7am. A few other couples were slightly ahead of us, walking down the dark streets armed with backpacks and trekking poles. We assumed they had the same idea.
As we entered the car park, the local ranger's truck pulled in behind us. Lee and I shot each other furtive glances. They were technically in the car park before us. We watched as they pulled up just metres ahead and started to get out. The couple in front of us had also noticed and their steady walk had definitely turned into a much brisker affair. Lee and I accelerated too, trying to look like we were just walking casually while moving as fast as absolutely possible.
We were just twenty metres or so from the booth as they began unlocking the back door of the office. If they had really wanted to, they could have walked out and stopped us, but luckily they didn’t seem overly interested in doing that. We passed the entrance and powered on. Not looking back, we made it by the skin of our teeth.
Once inside, the path starts to climb immediately up through the forest. Just a few minutes later, it doubles back on itself and on the corner is a very well-worn side trail. It doesn't go anywhere, but it does provide a perfect view down to the ticket booth, where there was now an official standing in the entrance. No doubt it has been used by many a returning hiker to check the coast was clear before exiting.
We weren’t exactly sure when the booth closed. Between 5 and 6pm, we’d heard. But it was such a long hike that we hoped it’d be shut by the time we returned.
Now we could focus on enjoying the hike. We climbed steadily through the forest until we decided it was time for some breakfast and a breather. We sat on a rocky outcrop overlooking the valley below and watched the sunrise.
Then we continued onwards. There are options for many routes inside and much further up there is also a campsite where you’ll find the only toilets in the whole place. Before you reach this though, the route splits into two. Both rejoin the main path later, but you can decide whether you want to go to the right and see the designated viewpoint of Fitz Roy, or to the left for some of the lake views.
We decided we’d take advantage of this incredible weather while we had it and opted for the viewpoint. We decided we’d return down the other route later so as not to miss anything. The viewpoint did not disappoint.
From here, the path levels out. You’ve done a large part of the main climb and reached the first ridge, and now you have to walk a fairly substantial distance over relatively flat terrain towards the peaks beyond, where you will do the final ascent. The scenery is stunning and you can see why this hike is so famous. Also, it’s not too crowded yet, which is nice.
We walked through the stunted forest, stopping when we spotted a whole load of woodpeckers.
The path continues on; you couldn’t lose it. A clear, distinct trail maintained by hundreds and hundreds of feet. The mountains are ever-present in the background, while in front the scenery varies from forests, to rivers, to more open rocky and grassy sections. All along the way, route markers let you know your position.
As we reached the campsite, we kept on going. Out the back we crossed a river with lots of different signs warning people not to contaminate the water as it’s currently a potable source. I could well believe it as it burbled crystal clear over the smooth boulders of the riverbed.
Once you reach this point, you have more choices. Clearly this is why the campsite is here, as it is the point where different routes branch off in different directions. You can hike connecting paths to other glacier lakes on the left. To the right you can head down towards another glacier (visible in the photo below), which is just visible in the far distance, or by continuing straight ahead you’ll find the path towards Lago de los Tres — our goal.
This route is similar in its elevation profile to that of the Torres Base hike in the fact that the last kilometre is hell. You get to see what you’re about to put yourself through as you approach. I pointed it out to Lee a little while before the signs confirmed it.
"I think we have to go… up there…" I muttered.
And it turns out that unfortunately, I was right.
From the bottom you can see the endless zigzags as they cut up the mountain. Once again, we weren’t really hiking a nice path, but a boulder-strewn slope, sections of scree or, in many places, a stream. Now the route was significantly busier, as was to be expected. Slowly we pushed onwards and upwards.
Needless to say, the ‘top’ you can see from the bottom is not the top at all. Once you reach it, you will experience — like I’m sure anyone who enjoys hiking has experienced multiple times — the next part of the ascent.
This is the moment you realise that the top is not the top and now there is a new top.
We sighed, stopped for a water break and went onwards on what we really hoped was now the final section. The stream and trees had been left behind and we continued on a slippery gravel path, where my good ol' hiking stick I’d picked up back in Tierra del Fuego saved me from many a nasty tumble.
Eventually, we reached the true top and looked down to the lake below. It was busy, but that didn’t even matter in the moment.
It was spectacular.
A local fox picked up the remnants of people’s lunches as it moved between the crowds.
We headed down the hill to the lake for the obligatory photo.
Then we walked over to see the view down to another lake on the other side.
After spending a good amount of time appreciating the view we’d worked so hard to see, we began the long route back down.
This time, we diverted down the other route towards the lakes. Here we flopped down in the sand and ate the last of our provisions. I’d been saving the brownies and their sugar rush for the final moments. My feet were starting to hurt and blisters were forming. There was still about 3km of trail to go and it was already 4pm.
We made our way slowly back down. With two kilometres left, I’d slowed to a steady hobble. With every downward step my knees complained loudly.
I wasn’t the only one struggling however, and as we stopped for a break we gave some of our painkillers to another girl who collapsed onto a rock in tears while her unsympathetic boyfriend complained that she "always did this".
Eventually, the end was in sight. It was just before 6pm as we made it to the little side trail overlooking the ticket booth. It was closed for the day.
I hobbled triumphantly out into the car park and made a beeline for the nearest bar. The camper was a further 2.5km hike across town, which we were both now starting to regret, and we definitely needed a proper break and some fortification before we attempted that final stage.
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