Keagan’s World

Could I feel my hands or toes? Nope. But it didn’t matter because I was experiencing a gift from God.

A crew of us went to Bariloche last weekend – the “gateway” to Patagonia. It’s a beautiful small city located on a lake in Argentina that is heavily trafficked by hikers, skiiers, swimmers, and just enjoying those who enjoy the beauty of the world.

Now… we did a lot while there including driving the famous “Ruta de 7 Lagos”, swimming in freezing lakes (okay technically only I was stupid enough to do that but like when in Patagonia… 🤷‍♂️), and eating some baller steak. Feel free to peep these highlights before reading on, but I’m only going to expand on one part.

The best part.

Refugio Frey.

A 12 km/7.5 mile hike up to the top of a mountain with a small lake at the top.

Now I do admit, I did pull a little buffoonery to convince my friends the hike was a cake walk. Everyone online called it easy, but I also knew we had well over 1,000m of elevation change to tackle. I just chose to highlight the “easy” label (sorry friends).

Can’t have great things in life if there isn’t at least some struggle though right?

It started out quite very easy.

Concerningly easy.

For concerningly long.

Miles had seen this story one too many times: “After Mt. Fuji, it ain’t gettin’ me this time. I know how this works. The moment you think it’s gonna be fine, it ain’t.”

But by the time we hit kilometer 10/12 without any real difficulty, even I was thinking it was going to be easy. Surely I had to have misread the elevation change that we had to accomplish or mistaken total elevation for elevation change. But then Miles made THE mistake: “Ya know this really isn’t bad.”

And then for the last 1.5 kms we hit a straight incline of like 800m.

By the time we hit the top, we had to pause momentarily to celebrate.

Then came the next realization: we were the only ones up there without winter jackets, hats, gloves, and real hiking gear… which was odd because it was brisk, but like windbreaker-and-pants-time brisk not bundle-up-and-hunker-down brisk.

While quite peculiar, I had a sinking feeling that in fact maybe we had missed something.

As it would turn out, we missed a lot of things…

Such a beautiful little quaint cabin perched up in the mountains along side a small lake with a divine backdrop. It was the perfect mountainous, rustic vibe for a night in the mountains of Patagonia. The interior was shockingly small: a main dining room with 4 tables, a secondary patio/dining room with 3 more tables, a kitchen, and an upstairs room for sleeping that can only best be described as barracks.

That’s thing number one that we missed.

40 people in a room smaller than my living room in my house from uni (think like 5m x 10m.

Cots, not mattresses.

A roof slanted so low that should I have woken up and lifted my head too fast, I would have gotten a quite nasty concussion.

And BYOB… not booze… bag… sleeping bag. Get your head out of the gutter and don’t be such an alcoholic.

But it was, and I realize this is going to sound so sarcastic but it’s not, exactly the type of experience I wanted. My friends… maybe not so much.

As the sun went down, mistake number 2 revealed itself: the reason everyone was dressed for mid-winter.

The temperature quickly dropped to about freezing, which would have been okay… but the wind.

The wind.

Absolutely cutting.

Even repping a clean 5-layer fit and wool socks my ass was getting WORKED anytime I went outside. And the toilets were outside. So like… yeah. Speaking of which that’s the third thing we missed: outhouses. Outhouses in freezing temperatures with BYOT – bring your own toilet paper (thankfully I did happen to catch this one the night before otherwise we would have been in crisis mode).

Staring down the barrel of bitter cold temperatures, unprepared, we hunkered into the cabin to await dinner. And this, THIS is where the vibes shifted.

It was beautiful.

Everyone in one “dining hall” slurping up hot stew, drinking cold beer, playing cards, laughing, story-telling. English and Spanish. Old and young. No internet. In the moment.

When we busted out our bottle of fernet, our newfound Argentinean friend became quite excited and entertained. That initial joy turned to horror when they realized we were going to commit a sacrilegious act by mixing it with Pepsi and no ice. To be fair, Pepsi was the only option available and ice was not amongst the few ingredients airlifted to our beautiful little shack. To make matters worse, Miles and I just took shots of it to avoid the sugar + extra cost (broke boy stuff).

And then the stars. The. F’ing. Stars.

Like what.

And yet just when it felt impossible to beat, it came morning.

We woke up bright and early before the first bit of light to waddle outside layered in every piece of clothing we had brought and with arms pulled inside to condense the warmth. In our half-asleep state, not a word was spoken. Everyone went their own ways, finding a nice comfortable rock or patch of ground to sit on and stare down the horizon.

It sucked. At first.

I remember thinking: Why in the *expletive* am I awake right now sitting in sub-freezing temperatures in nothing more than a hoodie and raincoat.

And then the first rays began to illuminate the horizon. And then it became clear.

*Unfortunately lacking internet won’t let me upload my video so if you want to see the stunning time lapse I took, ping me a message!*

It was one of those moments. Those moments when your breath is pulled away and you realize how small you are in this world, but in a good way. A profound moment of realization that you are living the way life was meant to be lived.

Euphoric.

As Barbara described it, an all-time great life-experience. A moment you know you will never, ever forget.

As I sit here in El Chalten, post-Fitz Roy hike, I realize now that this wasn’t going to be a one-time thing – the world is full of them. And the more of them I find, the more I want to keep looking.

And the more I want to keep looking, the more I’m going to travel.