Andrew Chapman
This is the third day it has graupelled in Base Camp. Winds are very high and the Fitz Roy massif has been masked by swirls of clouds and precipitation and pressure has dropped like a poor fellow with cement feet. At this point, however, I know that this doesn't mean jack. Tomorrow the weather could clear up and be as stable as ever. The last few nights our packs have been ready to shoulder at the first hint of clearing skies. This party is coming to an end for Dave and me in less than a week — time to maximize any potential weather window that may present itself.
That Patagonian bug has got us. We've thrown around the idea of extending our stay like some of our compadrés are doing. The addiction to stay is strong once you've put some time in here. Thoughts of gloriously clear weather the day we leave make the decision to leave torturous. I saw it happen already this month. The day Dave and I climbed Guillaumet, a German team had just started making its way into town with their first load of gear. It's not like the climbing days we've had this month have been the "goods," but from what I've been told, when the weather really clears, it's the "kind."
My decision making, based on the weather, has matured considerably since arriving at Rio Blanco. For the first week, Dave would do his best to convince me that the wind was blowing too hard or routes would be in unacceptable condition to climb even when skies were blue. Experience has always been my best teacher, however, and I quickly got my first taste of reality.
Regardless of what the weather has been like this past month, I won't be leaving the Fitz with a bad taste in my mouth. If anything, I've just had a taste of how sweet it is and will long for the day I get to savor this range's climbing potential full-bodied.
Soon, Dave and I will focus on other climbing objectives. Possibly, a side trip to Aconcagua, or to catch the tail end of winter in the Tetons. Whatever it may be, we will be sure to enjoy the journey just as much as the summits. After all, a summit wouldn't be a summit without the hard work, discipline, and skills required to got you there.
There are climbers out there who have been living out of their rigs for years. It's not an easy existence storing your gear between friends' houses and never really having a permanent base. Some folks claim home to be "The Valley" or their PO boxes in Jackson. Wherever they may rest, they are trying to follow something that is meaningful to them. There will always be trade-offs in life and, so far, this vagabond lifestyle has been a means to an end for Dave and I. And when all is said and done, I can honestly say this path has had heart and I think that is the most important thing of all.
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Andrew Chapman, MountainZone.com Correspondent
