Three Points of the Compass heads to the finishing line on the final day of Fjällräven Classic Chile. But there are still a few ups and downs to contend with first.

The fourth and final day on Classic Chile is called ‘The ‘Torres del Paine Day’, finishing at a final check point on the eastern shore of the Rio Serrano. All day there are stunning views of the dramatic Cordillera Paine in the National Park.

There had been no wind over night and I slept well. Though that may be due to my having chosen a forest pitch rather one of the more exposed sites next to the lake. If there had been any noise from the nearby campers, I never heard it. But the large group in a more distant clearing made up for that by creating a fair racket while they packed up early morning, shouting to each other in the process. It wasn’t even six yet. The lack of camp etiquette amongst some hikers is baffling at times. Wide awake, I rose a little after six to put a brew on. It was just a couple of degrees above freezing and I donned puffy and kept the quilt over my legs while I attempted to force down a hot chocolate muesli but gagged while doing so, it was frankly awful. I was the first of our little group away, first returning to the checkpoint as they had insisted on campers checking out in the morning

Out of camp, the trail first tracked the shore of the lake but soon began to climb away from Lago Toro and then in to forests. Some climbs were steep and I found them a little arduous, but despite me thinking that was probably due to my general lack of fitness, quite a few other hikers were complaining of tiredness. There was the usual leapfrogging with other hikers. Them overtaking me on the climbs, me passing them as they paused for breathers or to recover at the tops or further on. I had a brief but excellent view of an Andean condor at the top of one of these climbs, a magnificent bird. One of the New World vultures, it is the largest flying bird of prey in the world, with a wingspan of up to three metres.

Butterflies were fluttering between the many flowers. The sky was clear of cloud and the sun was strong. I kept my wide brimmed Tilley firmly covering my thinning hair but noticed a few hikers were going for full face covering for increased UV protection. I crossed a road, seldom encountered over the four days, beyond which was more climbing, providing ever better views over the Paine mountains and glaciers.

I reached the penultimate checkpoint at Laguna Pequeña 9km from last nights camp. There was a treat on offer here- Alfajor de Calafate, a traditional sweet confection. I didn’t need this immediately so saved it for later, instead drinking some of the weak diluted rhubarb juice provided, which was very welcome. My filter had become ever harder to squeeze, probably due to the suspended silt in the melt waters clogging up the pores. I went down to the lake to collect a pan full of water and boiled and sterilized it for both rehydrating my early lunch and to top up my water bottle. My meal wasn’t amongst the best I have enjoyed on this trail. Clipfish Casserole apparently being Cod, and chewy Cod at that. I ate it with shoes off, airing my feet. The first time I have had to do this, both heels were still sore and I popped a couple of ibuprofen. Regardless of that, it was a lovely halt. Lapping water, sun on my back, rustling breeze through the tree canopy and the quiet chatter of contented hikers.

After the midday(ish) checkpoint at Laguna Pequeña it was then back to forest walking, often exiting to open scrubby areas or bald patches, where the expansive views of snowy mountains never failed to wow. As to be expected, some hikers were reluctant to finish their experience and took time out at the many miradors to lounge, eat, chat and photograph.

I knew there was a long descent to the finish, and for that to happen there had to be an equivalent amount of climbing today. The 100m contours on the map hide a lot of the actual ascents/descents on the ground. The helpful topographic map provided isn’t the best and a couple of quite large lakes I passed are not even shown.

Having established that my map reading skills hadn’t abandoned me and that I was, indeed, still on trail, I enjoyed the afternoon immensely, my notes from my journal for this section are sparse but record the essentials:

“Condor overhead. Flowers. Pretty grass rides with views of the Torres. Stony steep paths, sandy. Few other hikers. Seemed alone out here”.

trail journal

There is a great deal hidden in those meagre jottings but they are sufficient to jolt a memory. Long may they do so. It was a further 9km to the final checkpoint and trail finish in the wide valley bordering the Serrano river. The view of the ‘village’ below came quite suddenly but it was another hour of walking and descending through bright red Chilean firetree before I arrived.

There is a fairly large hotel complex and other buildings in the valley, providing expensive accommodation and outdoor activities, however the Fjällräven checkpoint at Serrano was set up as a separate camp. It followed their usual provision of large brown tepee style tents, with food and drink, in which live music is played during the afternoons and evenings, always proving very popular. Most importantly, there was also the large blue Fjällräven branded tents with staff checking in the Classic finishers. A professionally run BBQ was set up beyond and numerous benches were provided for socialising. Portaloos and fresh water station are provided and some campers will remain here for a couple of nights before leaving.

I walked across the finish line to claps, whistles and cheers, as does everyone completing their trek. I collected my final stamp in my trekking passport and journal, then received my medal, badge and sew-on patch. Then photos, before walking back the way I had come to find a pitch for the night.

There was a lot of space at this final camp and I pitched right on the edge of the forest line, with a grand view of the Paine Massif in the distance, across the Serrano delta. I was hot and sweaty so had a bit of a wipe down tent wash before changing into clean skiddies, shorts, clean shirt, Sealskinz inside my grotty shoes and then walked back to the checkpoint camp for beers and to collect my pre-ordered lamb BBQ.

To be honest, I enjoyed the mountain of vegetables I had more than the stringy unseasoned meat but it all went down well. I was joined by the struggling Canadian hiker that had limped late into camp last night. Kudos to her, she had given every impression of someone that needed to drop out. But had knuckled down and slowly and painfully completed the final day. Which was more than some of the other hikers at that penultimate camp, who had decided to drop out.

I returned to my tent to chill, napping in the warm tent with both vestibules open and bug netting zipped up. Large raptors, including a condor, occasionally flew across the expanse of grass between our sprawling camp and the distant hotel paddock. I was usually alerted to these by the alarm calls from the plovers, Upland geese and flock of Black-faced ibis that flew in, stayed half an hour or so, then flew back out.

Horse riding tourists twice passed my tent, each strung out group led by a gaucho. I occasionally stirred as grazing cattle and loose horses approached the tent, but they were unconcerned about my presence so I likewise ignored them. I woke later as I had grown cold and was a little surprised to see it was eight in the evening. I changed into trousers, put on an alpha fleece and puffy, and returned to the bar tent, for beers, convo and music.

Later, I eschewed the dancing throng of over-excited and inebriated hikers and returned in the night gloom to my tent. Thankfully my pitch was distant enough that the revelries didn’t disturb me too much, particularly with ear buds in. Unsurprisingly, I slept well.

I was in no rush in the morning as I had booked a later shuttle bus. Sore feet had recovered and I felt good. I took my time packing, before walking across the grass to load my pack into the trailer hitched to the rear of a minibus and board. I had originally thought that most other hikers had already left, but numbers slowly built, as many had apparently opted to camp amongst the trees instead of in the open. The journey took a couple of hours, not due to distance, but progress over initially rough and pot-holed roads. The dust permeated the shaking and rattling sides of the vehicle and choked the occupants, me included. Some pulled their buffs up to cover their mouth and nose, but mine was stashed in my pack fifteen feet behind me. Returning to faster tarmac, the air inside the van slowly cleared. We passed many guanacos out on the open prairie, mostly large loose herds, with occasional large individuals that appeared to be acting as look outs. I was slowly ticking of my wildlife ‘wish-list’.

Arriving back at Puerto Natales, we first called in to the airport to drop off those flying today, then onward to town, back to El Galpón, to collect any luggage left there. I had a small bag of clean ‘town clothes’ to pick up. After which I thanked anyone I could find that looked in any way official as this type of event cannot occur without their hard work, then walked back up in to town as I had accommodation booked for the next four days. My plan was to relax, wash hiking clothes, food restock and explore the town a little before my next multi-day hike.

Fjällräven Classic Chile had been great. The help and assistance provided by the organisers, staff and volunteers were more than enough to relieve me of much logistical planning and allow me to simply enjoy the hiking experience. But Chile had more to offer and I was looking forward to the O’ Circuit in the Torres del Paine National Park. I had so far been spared the infamous Patagonian winds, and had instead enjoyed settled and lovely weather, would my luck hold out?

• Fjällräven Classic Chile 2024: check-in
• Fjällräven Classic Chile 2024- Day 1 ‘The Forest day’
• Fjällräven Classic Chile 2024- Day 2 ‘The Mountain day’
• Fjällräven Classic Chile 2024- Day 3 ‘The Lakes day’