Horseback Riding Trip in Chile's Southern Patagonia

When I started taking horseback riding lessons in 1998, I never imagined my newfound hobby would take me to hidden oases all over the world. I had always wanted to travel to exotic places, but as I’d only been to Europe and Asia for work, I was hesitant to branch out to more remote areas on my own.

After doing some research, I found a few companies that offered riding trips all over the world with several options for rides in Chile. Eventually I settled on a 10-day trip in Torres del Paine, a National Park in Chile’s Southern Patagonia that was declared a biosphere reserve by UNESCO in 1978. The park is a stunning haven with glaciers, rivers, lakes, forests, fields of wildflowers, and interesting wildlife, including the regal condor. This particular trip turned out to be the most physically challenging of all the riding trips I’ve taken to date, so you’ll want to make sure you feel extremely comfortable in the saddle before embarking on this adventure.

It was December of 2001 and I was ready for a great adventure. I landed safely in Santiago, a very modern city, but was unprepared for the mayhem of the airport. Americans, Canadians and Australians have to pay an entrance fee to visit Chile and the so-called line for that window was unbelievable. Once through that obstacle the rest was easy and I arrived at my hotel by noon. Exhausted from the long trip, I rested for a bit and then set out for Los Dominicos Market. The market was a combination of schlock, kitsch, and beautiful handmade crafts. I shopped and had a great time, but made one fatal error – eating “street meat” (meat prepared and sold at open markets or street fairs rather than in restaurants). It’s fun to try local food, but I learned the hard way that you should only eat meat in reputable restaurants, where it’s been cooked and prepared properly.

The next morning I headed back to the airport and flew 4 hours south to Punta Arenas, a city of about 100,000. The plane landed amidst heavy rain and hail, but by the time I collected my luggage the sky was blue and the sun was shining. This constant change in extreme weather proved to be typical of this region, so if traveling here you should be prepared for just about anything. I arrived at my hotel and got to know the other riders in my group during an introductory dinner.

There were two trips going out the next morning; one for a group who chose to camp along the way, and one for those of us who signed up to stay in estancias (the local word for ranches). As much as I love to camp, there are a few compelling reasons to choose the estancia option for this trip. First of all, the weather is extreme and unpredictable. We had several nights of heavy rain and I was happy to be sheltered and dry. Secondly, it was a treat to interact with the people who lived and worked on the estancias; they were warm, hospitable and great cooks!

On the first full day of the trip we piled into an old van, and after a few hours of bumpy driving, arrived at the Magellanic Penguin Colony. The penguins made their nests in the ground and were smaller than I imagined. I watched a hungry grey fox sticking his nose into all the nests looking for a meal and was surprised how intimidating the male penguins were while protecting their families.

An hour later we all piled back into the van and continued on to Puerto Natales, a bustling metropolis of about 10,000 residents. The company running the trip (Blue Green Adventures) was based there, as were numerous other adventure companies and youth hostels. After lunch we hopped back into our dilapidated vehicle and spotted several ñandus on our way to the park (ñandus are birds similar to ostriches, and unique because the males incubate the eggs and possibly even raise the young). During our last pit stop we were lucky enough to catch an unofficial bareback race between two locals – the horses were incredibly fast and the race was over in about 30 action packed seconds. Finally, we arrived at our first estancia and it was beautiful. It had been converted to an inn with simple, but very comfortable rooms. The dining room was a separate building with a fireplace and reading area – perfect shelter from the unbelievably strong winds, hail and rain.

The next morning was the first day of riding and we awoke to sunshine, a rainbow, heavy winds and a delicious breakfast – crepes with some kind of Chilean toffee inside. Unfortunately, it was at this time that my stomach began to feel the effects of the street meat I’d eaten in Santiago and for the rest of the trip my only saving grace was that I had come fully prepared with Imodium, a traveler’s best friend! After breakfast, I put on my water proof pants, riding boots and chaps, wrapped a wool scarf over my head and neck, packed my lunch and saddle bag, secured my helmet, pulled on my waterproof gloves and went to meet my horse, Punzon.

The saddles were western style, but very different than anything I’ve ever ridden on before. They were almost impossible to stand in, which meant one had to lean back during canters and sit (rather than post) the trots. Translation…everyone ended up with really sore butts!!! Our gauchos (Chilean cowboys) were true pros and got us on our way in record time. Chechin led the group along with Alec, the owner of the company, and Chechin’s highly energetic 11-year-old son, Cristian, who was on summer break from school.

As soon as we set out the clouds blew right over us and down came the hail. It was so sudden that I had to laugh, and didn’t really care that I was wet. My hands were freezing but the strong winds quickly dried us up and it was easy to forget the cold while riding past a number of stunning lakes, not to mention concentrating on staying in the saddle during the trots.

The trail took us through beech forests filled with beautiful flowers (orchids, sweet peas, and daisies) but it also involved a lot of branch dodging. There was a canter up a steep hill to a plateau overlooking 2 lakes of different colors and the wind was so strong that one had to scream to the person next to them in order to be heard. After a series of incredible views, we began a very steep descent down a sandy cliff, looking down on a milky, blue-colored lake, with snow-covered mountains in the background – it was spectacular.

After lunch we had a long canter across the pampas and for 45 minutes I felt every single rib pounding against my chest with each movement of the horse. The mountains were an amazing backdrop and there were lots of colorful birds – oyster catchers (fil-fil), buff-necked ibis (bandurias), geese (caiquen), lapwings (teros) and little chirpy things that I couldn’t see very well. One of the gauchos invited our group for tea and bread at his house across the river, and it was sobering to see how simply the locals lived – no electricity, phones, running water, etc. – wood burning ovens as the main source of heat and lots of dogs. Everyone down there had lots of little, yelpy sheep dogs.

After the tea we had to ride another 45 minutes back over the pampas and I thought I’d never make it. By the time I got off the horse and hobbled into my room I was so fatigued that I climbed right into bed and fell asleep.

The next morning I dragged my aching body out of bed and got ready for our ride to Grey Glacier and Grey Lake. We were all very sore, but mounted up and set out for another canter across the pampas. This time I leaned way back in the saddle and was gradually able to surrender to the natural rhythm of my horse. We crossed over a footbridge and rode down a long, gravel road until small glimpses of icebergs appeared, then tied up our horses and walked the rest of the way to the lake. There were humungous, blue-tinted icebergs floating in the lake but the water was true to its name and gray in color. The grandeur of the icebergs combined with extremely strong winds blowing across the lake was humbling, and I stood there, totally in awe.

The ride back was calm, and we ended the day with a brisk canter while heading back to the posada. Before dinner I decided to take a stroll around a nearby marsh that I’d seen the day before. Red and yellow grass abounded in the middle of the water, with a border of tall green grass blowing in the wind. I chose a quiet spot and sat for an hour watching the birds and the changing light reflecting on the water. Despite the wind, the setting was tranquil and for a while I felt like I was the only person on the planet.

The next day’s ride was long and challenging; it began in the southwest part of the park and finished (7 hours later) at Estancia Tercera Barranca, on the northeast side of Torres del Paine.

One of the mountain ranges for which Torres del Paine (the Towers of Paine) is famous is “Los Cuernos” or “The Horns”. Part of the allure of this particular day’s ride is that Los Cuernos stare you in the face pretty much the entire day. The views of this imposing range were breathtaking and we were lucky to have good weather. In addition, we passed several lakes, rode along windy rivers and through more beech forests, braved the winds, had some nice canters and enjoyed the range from a multitude of vantage points…that was all before lunch.

After lunch we encountered our first guanacos (animals in the llama family) and couldn’t decide who was more curious of whom. We cantered through wide, open plains, spotted condors from a distance, brought the horses to beautiful marshes to drink and passed a lake called “Guanaco Lake”, that looked exactly like its namesake. At our final resting point, a few riders opted to take the van back to the estancia, so their horses ran in front of us, free from their saddles, for the rest of the way. It’s really fun to ride behind riderless horses because you become a herder – if they stray too far from the trail you have to ride above or below them until they return. The last section of the trail wound past a lake with tons of geese and other birds before turning into the pampas that would lead to our next estancia, Tercera Barranca.

Tercera Barranca was a working estancia and there were always several gauchos milling about. Our meals were prepared by Maria who was always on her feet cooking for the locals and guests, and her homemade bread was heavenly. During our dinners, the locals would sit on a bench across from the table, sipping mate (mahtay), a bitter, herbal tea-like drink, or passing around the wine boot (a suede, boot-shaped bottle of wine). Drinking from the boot was an acquired skill because to be truly macho, you had to hold the spout as far from your mouth as possible, allowing a long stream of wine to flow towards your mouth at a gentle arc. The difficulty was starting and stopping the stream of wine without spilling it all over your shirt. I didn’t attempt the boot until days later so at this point settled for the wine from the cardboard boxes, which was actually pretty good.

The next day was supposedly our “rest” day, but we spent another 5 hours on our horses before returning to the estancia for a very late lunch. I had been anticipating this ride for quite sometime because of my itinerary’s description of an “exciting and unique adventure into the forests and hills of the sierra Contreras”. We were supposed to “ride out in the company of a local puma tracker” and “in the distance see the sun rise over the Towers giving them their classic morning glow”, but neither came to pass. We missed the sunrise by about 5 hours and with a group of 8 riders there was no chance of seeing “an elusive puma”.

It rained for most of this ride but no one was bothered. My biggest challenge was coaxing Punzon up a long, steep hill. He was sure-footed but slow, and when he’d see horses above him on the trail, he’d try to catch up by taking the direct route rather than the carved out switchbacks, leaving my stomach in knots.

Despite my struggles with Punzon, I did enjoy the small, tri-colored orchids (white, yellow and orange) and other flowers along the trail. At the top of the ascent we waited for the gauchos to find the opening to the forest in which the pumas are often seen. The forest seemed “enchanted” and we rode through, slowly and quietly.

As we emerged from the forest the clouds subsided a bit and we stopped at an old shack for some mate. Before going inside I walked over to a river to look for orchids and while my head was buried in the ground I heard distant screaming behind me – my group was standing there, pointing in the air, and when I looked up there were 2 huge condors gliding above me. Andean condors are the largest birds of flight in the region with wingspans of 8-10 feet, and they truly rule the sky.

After the mate break we continued on towards the estancia and came upon some gauchos herding about 850 sheep. We watched as they athletically rode their horses alongside the herd but the real bosses of the operation were clearly their yelpy sheepdogs. The visual shapes created by the movement of this white, wooly mass were astounding. Combined with the constant running back and forth of the barking dogs and the unison bleating of so many sheep, the scene added up to an organized chaos that was unforgettable. We joined in on the herding and it took us an hour to get all those sheep back to the estancia, but it was a thrilling experience!

Upon our return a hot lunch was waiting and after the meal I went to watch the tagging of the sheep. The whole process was certainly educational, but it was difficult listening to the mothers and babies calling to each other as they were separated into different sections of the holding area.

That night the dinner menu was, not surprisingly, roasted lamb. They cooked it right outside the house and I walked over to watch the carving. The elderly gaucho performing the task unwound the wires holding the meat to the skewers with his bare hands and didn’t even flinch. He then used an impressively large knife to carve the meat and sent the first tray inside. The marinade was delicious but the meat was extremely fatty and not all that appealing.

The next morning I woke up early to watch the sunrise and was overwhelmed by the pinks and grays that filled the sky. By 6 a.m. the show was over and I headed right back to bed. When I awoke for the second time, I noticed that the size of my lips had increased about 50% and at breakfast everyone asked if I’d had secret collagen injections the night before. They may have looked voluptuous, but they hurt like hell and from then on I had to wrap my face in a scarf every morning in order to protect myself from the wind and sun.

The ride to Refugio Dickson was my favorite. After a non-descript section of mud, we started over some hills until the mountains came into view. We passed by some water holes with natural, bubbly mineral water, and then rode on through some boggy sections of terrain that the horses didn’t like at all. Deep mud is tricky for them to navigate and Punzon got very cranky when I forced him through.

As we were riding through a long and narrow grassy plain, I looked up to see a huge condor gliding above my head that had appeared out of nowhere. It floated about 25 feet above me and just hovered, as if delivering a secret message that only the two of us could understand. Time stood still and I couldn’t move or breathe; I just stared up in total amazement. When the great bird flew away I let out a huge gasp and saw Chichin knowingly smile for my experience – it was magical.

We crossed through a river and passed by the campsite at Laguna Azul. From there the scenery became more and more stunning. Patches of white daisies turned into meadows of white daisies and it felt like the poppy scene from the Wizard of Oz. We had great views of “the Towers”, 3 pointy rocks that spike up beyond the rest of the mountain range, and rode past several beautiful lakes.

Finally we arrived at the river across from Refugio Dickson, which is only accessible by foot or horseback, and called for the boatman to come and take us across in a little dingy. Due to constantly changing water levels there is a rope tied to trees high up on the riverbanks with which the boat guy pulls the passengers across. Once we were safely to the other side the real spectacle began. Our reluctant horses were herded into the icy waters and they swam across, noses bobbing up and down. It was hard work for them because the water was so cold, but they arrived safely and knew exactly where to go for food as they surfaced from the river.

The next day’s ride to Dickson Glacier should have been one of the trip highlights, but unfortunately we had very bad weather. It was wet and windy, so we rode slowly along the steep, rocky trail, taking care with every step. When we arrived at the glacier there was a thick, gray cloud hovering right over the stream of ice and our view was heavily impeded. It was very frustrating because the left side of the sky was perfectly clear and blue, but we could barely see the glacier at all! Timing really is everything!

The eighth riding day was the last swim across the river for our weary horses before heading back to Tercera Barranca. The trail was the same we had taken two days before, but the absence of wind allowed us to see the mountains reflecting in the perfectly still waters of each lake we passed. It was like riding by life-sized water color paintings. Dinner that night was another barbeque and since it was warm enough to eat outside we all lingered by the fire, enjoying the night sky.

Our final leg of the trip was to a small outpost town near the Argentinean border called Cerro Castillo. The ride was very flat and without variation, but the morning raced by. One of the guides found ñandu and condor feathers and I spotted a ñandu egg near a nest that had obviously been invaded.

After leaving our horses for the last time, we all went to the bar at the hosteria and had farewell drinks with our guides and gauchos. Our final night’s stay in Hosteria Pionero was lovely – the inn was beautiful and we celebrated New Year’s Eve with good food and a bit of bubbly.

As all good things must come to an end, the following morning I boarded the familiar broken-down van and settled in for the long ride back to Punta Arenas. This is a fantastic trip and well worth the sore muscles. If you are interested in this trip, or maybe a less grueling version, you can contact Alec directly at alec@bluegreenadventures.com. Happy travels.