If you’d like to read about the W – Trek, click below.
Day 1 of 7
Puerto Natales to Refugio Grey – Battling the Wind
We were up before dawn, bundling into our layers and hoisting our packs onto the early bus from Puerto Natales to Pudeto. The ferry across Lago Pehoé was a wild ride—whitecaps everywhere, the wind throwing spray over the sides. We landed at Paine Grande Refugio, filled up our water bottles, and tightened the straps on our 25-pound packs before heading out toward Refugio Grey.
The wind… They said it would be strong, but nothing prepares you for 50-60 mph gusts that force you to plant both trekking poles and brace yourself just to stay upright. More than once, we had to stop and hunker down, waiting for a lull so we could keep moving. The trail climbed steadily, winding past deep valleys and cliffs that dropped straight to the lake, the famous Glacier Grey stretching out ahead like a frozen river.
It took us about eight hours to cover the eight miles—slow going in that wind—but we finally stumbled into camp, exhausted but relieved. Setting up the tent was its own battle, each gust threatening to rip it from our hands. Dinner at the refugio was a welcome sight: warm, filling, exactly what we needed.
Sleep was another story. The wind never let up, hammering the tent from every direction. The fine dust from the campsite worked its way into everything—our sleeping bags, our hair, and all over our faces. By morning, we were coated in a thin layer of grit, but we had survived our first night on the trail. Welcome to Patagonia.
Day 2 of 7
We started the day with a hike to the first suspension bridge linking the O Circuit to the W. The bridge swayed high above a 200-foot drop. We paused in the middle to take in the scenery and snap a few photos before heading back to the refugio for lunch.
In the afternoon, we set off on our Big Foot adventure on Glacier Grey. Our group of twelve—hailing from LA, the Netherlands, NYC, and New Jersey—climbed into a zodiac that sped us across the lake to the glacier’s edge. From there, it was a steep climb over a rocky slope to reach the ice. The guides were outstanding, carefully leading us across the glacier and making sure no one ended up in a crevasse. They chipped ice from hidden pools to show us where not to step, and we followed single file, placing each step exactly where the person ahead had gone.
We spent nearly three hours on the glacier, exploring deep blue pools and ice caves. At one point, the guides had set up a rope system so we could rappel into a cave—an unbelievable experience, standing inside the glowing blue ice. We wore crampons with sharp, two-inch spikes, which gave us solid footing but required careful walking.
The entire excursion lasted almost five hours—unlike anything we’ve ever done. By the time we got back to the refugio for dinner, we were exhausted in the best possible way. Sleep came easily after a day like this.
Day 3 of 7
We woke up expecting an easy descent from Grey Glacier, but Patagonia had other plans. What should have been a straightforward 7-mile hike turned into a seven-hour battle with the wind. At times, we had to plant our trekking poles, brace our boots wide, and simply stand firm to keep from being knocked over. The wind howled, the descent was steep, and every step required patience.
We found a brief respite in a valley of trees, catching our breath before the final stretch to Paine Grande. By the time we reached camp, the real challenge began—setting up the tent in the relentless wind. It took some effort, but once it was up (and securely weighed down by our backpacks), we settled in for the reward: a warm meal and lively conversation with a Chilean family from Santiago. A tough day, but a memorable one.
Day 4 of 7
We set out from Paine Grande this morning, making our way across the lower left section of the W trek. The trail followed the edge of a glacial lake, its water an almost unreal shade of Caribbean blue. The beauty of it was a constant companion, but the hike itself brought its own set of challenges.
A long suspension bridge stretched across a roaring waterfall, swaying slightly with each step. On the other side, we scrambled down to refill our water bottles straight from the rushing stream—cold, clear, and clean.
Midway through, the wind arrived, sudden and strong, pressing against us with enough force to demand full attention. Each step became deliberate—poles planted firmly, weight shifted carefully forward. There was nothing to do but keep moving, one foot at a time.
Day 5 of 7
Today, we hiked the center of the W, up the French Valley. Leaving our packs at last night’s refugio made all the difference—we felt light on our feet as we climbed to the viewpoint. The scenery was spectacular, and we lingered over lunch, chatting with other hikers, taking each others photos, and watching three avalanches in less than an hour. Each time, a massive sheet of snow peeled away from the mountain, sending up a billowing cloud of white that hung in the air for half a minute.
After soaking it all in, we made our way back down, retrieved our packs, and continued across the bottom of the W for another three hours to the next refugio. By the time we arrived, dinner was more than welcome—hearty, warm, and satisfying, which helps make up for the daily peanut butter and crackers on the trail!
Day 6 of 7
This was supposed to be our “easy” day—just hiking across the bottom right-hand side of the W. It was anything but easy. We spent the day crossing glacial rivers and waterfalls, only two of which had suspension bridges. The rest required careful rock hopping, which was no small feat with our impossibly heavy packs. The trail map suggested a gentle route along the lake, but in reality, it was a relentless series of steep ups and downs, making for slow, exhausting progress.
After six hours and 8.5 miles, we finally spotted the campground in the distance—whew! We checked in and were shown to a tent, already set up. That was the good news. The bad news? It was perched high on a steep hill, requiring a precarious climb up a vertical ladder. We dropped our packs inside and immediately went in search of dinner (after a well-earned beer and glass of wine).
That night, Pete woke up in the dark, unable to fall back asleep, consumed with one thought: How on earth are we going to get down in the morning?
Day 7 of 7
That early alarm felt rough, but we wanted plenty of time to pack up, eat, and hit the trail to the towers. We set out just before 7, the weather clear and cool—perfect hiking conditions. With a steady pace (and no unnecessary weight like extra snacks), we made good time, covering half the distance and over 1,000 feet of elevation by 9 a.m.
Then, as we rounded the mountain, the towers came into view—shrouded in a thick black cloud. Within minutes, the wind howled straight at us, rain stinging our faces and nearly knocking us off our feet. We gave each other a knowing look, a high five, and made the easy call: time to turn around. No regrets.
Only one day of weather shifting our plans? That’s pretty good luck. We feel great about the trek and the whole trip. Tonight, we take the bus back to Puerto Natales, then an early ride to Punta Arenas in the morning.
Pete & Lori's Retirement adventures 