19-24 January. A little further on, half shrouded by cloud, we could see those iconic mountains begin to appear. We’d seen this view many times in other people’s photos, blogs, and Instagram feeds, but seeing it for ourselves was something special — another milestone reached on our Pan-Am adventure. Lone granite spires towered over the valley. Not framed. Just there.

The approach to El Chaltén was long and straight. The steppe stretched flat and dry in every direction — until suddenly it didn’t. The peaks rose abruptly from the steppe, their upper slopes disappearing into cloud — sharp and dramatic. Pulling over, we braced ourselves against the wind and snapped our own photos before rolling into town.

SMALL PIECE OF HISTORY

Long before it was called Fitz Roy, the Tehuelche people knew it as Chaltén — the “smoking mountain,” named for the clouds that so often hide its summit. It was later renamed by an Argentine explorer in honour of Robert FitzRoy, captain of the HMS Beagle, the ship that carried Charles Darwin to South America.

TODAY

El Chaltén is a small, stretched-out town with a core community of climbers and hikers. Founded in 1985, it’s one of Argentina’s youngest towns, established largely to reinforce a border presence near the Southern Patagonian Ice Field. It brands itself as the trekking capital of Argentina, and everything here revolves around hiking and climbing.

The town itself is basic — nothing fancy — the way they like it. Lodges, hostels, gear shops, bakeries, and cafés all cater to the constant flow of trekkers. Backpacks outnumber handbags. Gore-Tex and fleece are standard attire. Hiking poles click along the pavement. Dust blows in from nearby dirt roads. Buildings are small and practical.

At the entrance to town, across from the visitor centre, is the official unofficial overlanders’ camp — a large, very dusty car park filled with everything from small cars with rooftop tents to rigs much bigger than ours. Pulling into the only available space, we quickly discovered why it was free. Every passing vehicle lifted a cloud of dust that coated the inside of the truck almost instantly. Ugh.

Other vehicle owners came over to greet us, admiring our tough-looking truck and asking all sorts of questions. It was nice to meet other travellers — some of them people whose comments we often read on iOverlander.

Happy to relax, we took the next day slowly. Tim and I walked to the info centre to plan our hike and nearly didn’t, shocked by the extortionate cost. Camping and park entry permits came to nearly $400 CAD. But that’s why we were here. One thing we’ve learned — you have to pay to play.

The forecast showed clear skies and sunshine. We’d picked the perfect window. Food gathered and packs sorted, I made a big pasta dinner to fuel up, then sat outside enjoying the 9:30pm sunset.

HIKING TO FITZ ROY

Out the door by 8am, the air was cool and town quiet. We first had to walk 2km through town to reach the trailhead. Permits out and ready, they were barely glanced at as we passed through the entrance.

We’d heard the trails would be busy — peak season — but I was still surprised at just how many people were there.

We started the trail among the first half of a busload of Chinese seniors, chatting excitedly and snapping photos. The single track climbed immediately, and it took a while to slip past them all without knocking anyone over. The first viewpoint opened over the valley below — simply beautiful.

The day was spent hiking well-worn trails, catching up to and passing group after group, and being passed by speed hikers and runners. It was as busy as Oxford Circus on a Friday night.

I focused on the views rather than the crowds, and those views were fabulous — long valleys with rivers stretching far below us. The climb lasted a couple of hours before easing into rolling terrain around pools, ponds, and small lakes, then cutting back into forest. The kids were out front, making it look easy. They were strong, fit, and loved overnight hikes.

LAGUNA DE LOS TRES

Poincenot Camp sat deep in the forest with the main trail running directly through it. After setting up camp, and having our camping permits checked, we tackled the final rocky ascent to Laguna de los Tres — a steep, relentless 3km climb over loose stone and switchbacks packed with people. With nothing on my back, I was grateful. It was no cakewalk.

But the view from the top was absolutely worth it.

Glacial blue water beneath jagged granite peaks. Mount Fitz Roy towering above us. The wind cut sharp across the lake while caracaras circled overhead searching for scraps. We dipped our feet into the painfully cold water — strangely refreshing — then sat in the warm sun and let the view do the talking.

OVERNIGHT CAMP AT POINCENOT

Back at camp we cooked dinner, then the kids conveniently disappeared when dishes needed doing, but miraculously reappearing when the chocolate came out. We enjoyed the evening, hanging out playing cards before crawling into our tents and sleeping bags around 10pm.

Today we hiked 14 km, it feels good to trade truck life for trail life.

LAGUNA TORRE

Not a good night’s sleep.

From 2am onwards, dozens of hikers with zero regard for anyone else, passed in a steady stream straight through the campground on their way to the mirador for sunrise. Headlamps scanning tents like a laser light show at a concert, loud chatter, some even playing music. I was grumpy. I don’t think anyone in the 30-plus tents slept properly.

It wasn’t particularly cold — no wind and shelter from the trees — yet I was still cold in my summer-weight sleeping bag. It made me worry about the O-Trek in March. I’d definitely need another blanket.

We emerged around 8am. The dense forest kept the morning dark. Breakfast was hot oatmeal with apple, cinnamon, and brown sugar — Jaxon’s least favourite meal.

By 11am we were packed and back on the trail.

Today would be longer but with less climbing. The route along Laguna Madre was quieter and far more peaceful. Forest sections opened onto lakes and glacier views. We stopped often — to admire the scenery, take photos, or watch condors and caracaras riding thermals overhead.

Eventually we merged with the main trail toward Laguna Torre beneath the dramatic silhouette of Cerro Torre. The trail rolled gently through forest before opening into wide glacial valleys. Perfect hiking weather — cool, bright, no wind.

We sat on sun-warmed rocks and rested for nearly an hour, chatting with a young French hiker who had entered the park at 2am for sunrise, hadn’t paid, and planned to cover an impressive 40km that day.

Further down the trail, we managed to lose Charley, who had been walking ahead. She didn’t wait at an intersection marked “El Chaltén” in both directions.

We called, whistled, waited. Nothing.

The questions came fast. Which direction? How far ahead? Did she realise?

We asked another hiker if they’d seen a girl with long blonde hair, blue hat, blue pack.

“Yes,” they said, pointing to the right fork.

Great. She was ahead and on the correct trail.

Only, three hundred metres later, still no sight of her.

Soon after, we caught up to a girl matching our description exactly.

Blue hat. Blonde hair. Blue pack.

Only it wasn’t Charley.

Which meant she’d taken the longer route.

We waited half an hour, hoping she’d realise and turn back. No sign. Eventually, we decided she was smart enough to follow the trail into town.

Back at the truck, Jaxon and Tim were clearly worried. I wasn’t — she’s a clever girl, and these trails are well used. I felt she’d find her way out.

Despite sore feet and aching legs, Tim and I headed back out to look.

Two hundred metres up the road, we saw her — walking confidently through town.

She spotted us and skipped across the road, proud and completely unfazed.

It was a relief to see her. She’d picked fresh lavender for me.

Over the past two days, we’d hiked 33 kilometres.

We slept well that night.

WEBSITE AND BLOG ISSUES

The next day was a rest day. The kids did schoolwork while I worked on the website. It had been down for over a month. What should have been a simple update turned into a complete rebuild. Everything looked the same — except all the photos were gone.

Eventually, I’ll re-upload images into every post. That will be a rainy day job.

Surprisingly, our legs weren’t sore. We were getting stronger. Recovery was faster.

By day four, we considered a short nearby hike, but the motivation wasn’t there. Not wanting to battle the crowds again, we packed up.

Time to move on. With the wind at our back, we pointed the truck toward El Calafate.