Hiking in Torres del Paine, part 3

We took the day off when the famous Patagonian winds brought an amazing rain storm in during breakfast.  The weather maker, Paine Grande, seems to stall the dark clouds to the west of us but the wind blows the rain on us while the sun is shining in the east.  Makes for a nice rainbow with Paine Grande in the shadow and Cuernos de Paine in the sunshine.  The heavy rand and wind seem to pass quickly making me think that you could hike and take shelter if you could predict the incoming storm accurately.

Julia, a retired nurse from the Bay Area whom we met on the boat to Natales, is taking the day off as well.  I was talking to an Israeli couple when a German from Nüremburg joined the conversation.  We were all interrupted by the loud and sloppy smooching couple making bedroom eyes at each other while their $1600 peso Sprites go flat in their glasses.  Might be time for another box of wine.  Or at least a deck of cards.  Back in a minute...

Got some wine and chocolate while everyone else was napping.  From here I can watch the wind blow a nearby waterfall upside-down.  The wind rules this land and all schedules must adjust to its whims.  Makes me wonder which part of Nature reigns supreme.  The Asian idea is that they each have their kingdoms where no other can beat them and they interact in the surrounding areas.  Perhaps.

Water can shape earth, but earth forces water to flow.  Sun can evaporate water, which wind then pushes around until it rains and interacts with earth again.  Others have explained this better than I.  I should give it more thought, perhaps before the wine next time.

Some characters in the refugio:

I first saw the Swiss couple and their ridiculous plaid pants hiked up well past the waist on the first boat out of Bariloche on the Cruces de los Lagos.  They were on bikes -- all their gear on their rear rack -- and heading roughly the same way we were: to Puerto Montt.  He walked like a man on a pogo stick while she never moved much.  He had the disheveled, curly brown hair and the pleasantly confused look of a math professor who could not remember where his next class was to be taught.  A dazed look combined with nonchalance.

I tried to make conversation with them a few times.  I'd walk by and say "Hola."  He would look up and squint over his glasses, combine a nod with a twitch to dislodge some curly hair from his face and go back to whatever he was doing.  The first words I got out of him were when we passed them on a hill they were walking up.  Later they passed us in a similar situation and the conversations, however stunted, came more easily.