Winter 2015 in El Chalten, Patagonia, Argentina
Photo by A.J. Snyder
I first met Caleb at the infamous “Creeksgiving” gathering in Indian Creek, UT. An annual pilgrimage for rock climbers living on the road for a Thanksgiving filled with sandstone crack climbing in the desert of Utah. Caleb and I were introduced by mutual friends, shared a few belays, beers and chatted about our plans to head down to South America that season to climb in Chalten. Both Caleb and I had other climbing partners who we planned to climb with in Chalten so the thought of teaming up together never crossed our minds. Fast-forward 2 months and I was walking the streets of Chalten alone. My climbing partner had a broken hand and had not yet arrived, I knew very little Spanish, no one else in Chalten, and did not have a place to live for the 3 months I would be in South America. Then I spotted Caleb’s smile and lanky body walking towards me. We caught up, discussed our bleak living situations and I found out Caleb was fluent in Spanish and on the hunt for cheap accommodations as well. To make a long story slightly less long we ended up finding a trailer to live in with a group of like-minded climbers. Caleb and I teamed up and climbed the biggest route of our lives in arguably one of the most beautiful places in the world. Living out our dreams of climbing in one of the world’s biggest alpine playgrounds.
As the climbing season in Chalten was winding down, Caleb had a bit of a mishap, which left him with a broken big toe and a depleted budget from hospital bills. He was in need of a cheap/free ride to the airport, which was 3 hours from town. A few days prior, Dan, a friend of mine from college arrived in Chalten completely unbeknownst to me. Dan was on a Motorcycle journey throughout South America, had heard I was in Chalten and spent a day walking around town in search of me. We happened to meet up and he spent a few days living in “the trailer” and meeting our small climbing community. Caleb somehow convinced Dan to make the 3 hour drive to the airport, in Patagonian winds, with him and around 150 pounds of climbing gear stuffed in a duffel bag strapped to the back of the motorcycle. As they rode out of town everyone seemed to be out snapping photos and cheering them on. They drove a lap around town in what felt like the ultimate “Dirtbag parade” and then headed off towards the airport. I heard second hand that the ride went off without a hitch.
Words by A.J. Snyder
