Emerging from the cocoon into the early morning frost, I step outside and get the water boiling for breakfast. Looking about I see that the strategically placed rubbish bag from last night – cleverly hung 2m from the ground to avoid any possibility of bears, foxes or wolves getting at the remains of our macaroni & cheese – is now strewn across the entire campsite, with the contents of yesterdays feast now making a clear path into the forest 20metres away. Unable to find the cheeky culprit – no doubt a crafty squirrel sitting in a tree somewhere chuckling away while licking the pasta sauce from his dirty paws – I set about cleaning up the mess and this time place the re-collected rubbish in the obviously placed but previously-unable-to-be-found rubbish bins at the camp entrance.
Waiting for Jess to awaken and emerge I walk down to the river and watch the sun rise across the valley, lighting up the glaciers that had continued creaking throughout the night. Again we pack camp and set off, first heading out of the valley and climbing up the hills surrounding Lago Skottsberg before then turning across the moorish, swampy terrain towards the main Refugio. A little light rain sets in as we near the Refugio but quickly turns into a cold, dry wind.
The Refugio is barely the half way point for today (7.6km so far, 11km to go) and so after a brief lunch (tuna sandwiches today!) we saddle up and continue on down the short valley. The valley trail starts climbing and takes us past another small lake before we come across the first lookout over Lago Grey. From here we can see tonight’s destination off in the distance and our growing pains are not soothed by what we realise we still need to cover.
This section is one of the steepest we’ve come across and our aching legs and bulging blisters are nearing the point where they stop merely complaining and begin to consider a complete revolt against us. Nonetheless we suck it up and continue on, arriving a few hours later at Refugio Grey (this one’s not named after any particular nationality..). The campsite is a little run down but the hut serves cold beer and we’re right on the icebreg littered shores of this glacial lake, so nothing to really complain about (luckily I get to write this blog and not our feet..!).
We make friends with the resident woodpeckers – obviously the world’s weirdest and most comical bird (if you’ve seen one in action you know what I mean) – and then hike a little further on to watch sunset over Grey Glacier.
