By this point in the hike I had walked just over 5 miles, gained well over 4000 ft, had one wet foot, crossed lots of summer snow almost wiping out just once, and taken hundreds and hundreds of photographs.

From Shakuseyi the trail continues heading in the direction of Haines towards the second peak named Mt. Ripinski. After the first section of the day, steep switch backs and significant elevation gains, this part of the hike was a welcome break.

I had waited weeks to do this hike. The delay was not due to weather or access, I could have reached the trail from Julie’s back yard, instead it was unusual bear activity that kept me out of the woods. Three different sows, each with two cubs, were running around town, eating chickens and breaking windows.

The number of peaks surrounding Haines, visible from just about everywhere in town, is astounding and one of the most epic things about this place. It isn’t just the presence of mountains, but proximity, they are just a couple miles away with peaks rising between 4,000 to 6,000 ft straight out of the sea, it is a mighty sight.

Time and time again in Haines, and more generally, I have experienced a certain phenomenon. A serendipity of sorts, with a hint of déjà vu. I hesitate to call it fate or destiny, it is more a confirmation. A sign that instills a sense of confidence that I am exactly where I am meant to be in time and space, perhaps where I was always going to be despite feeling as if I had chosen a path amidst several.

Our alarms both went off at 4:30 am. In perfect unison we reached for our phones and stopped the alarms. It was pitch black outside and cold. I laid lovely and warm in my sleeping bag, waiting for Alex to get up and begin getting ready, if she moved I would too.

Today we were heading from east Camp Italiano to Camp Central, a section of trail that is approximately 14 kilometers and moderate. This part of the trail followed along Lago Nordenskjöld, an incredibly beautiful body of water. Its color was the the same glacial turquoise as Lago Pehoé, the lake we had traveled across by boat on our first day.

It was raining when we woke, and very cold. Neither of us had slept well and water had seeped into Alex’s tent during early morning when the rain began. Alex’s tent was an oldie, borrowed from her parents. It was bright green, weighed a ton and was now very wet.

At 7am my new friend and hiking partner for the next four days, Alex, and I met at the Puerto Natales bus terminal. Along with many other tourists we boarded one of maybe ten buses heading for Torres Del Paine National Park.