I’m pretty sure this will go down as one of my favorite memories of the trip. We stayed up watching the sun set behind the mountains the night before (sunset ended around 10:30pm, wild) and then slept in the parking lot - me crunched in the back seat of our tiny rental car and Callen on his sleeping pad behind a guardrail for wind protection. My alarm woke me up at 5:15am and I peeked out to see a tiny bit of light on the mountains. It was hard to motivate out of the little car into the insane wind, but I moved myself and my sleeping bag over to the hillside to watch clouds swirl around these toothy monoliths for a little over an hour. I put on a playlist I always listen to when I’m in places I love, bundled up tight, and let the wind whip my hair as a few tears made their way down my face. After years of experiencing this place - these mountains - through others’ books, movies, and stories, it is amazing to finally be here myself. My Patagonia story doesn’t include epic night ascents, frostbite, sketchy rappels, or harrowing adventure (yet), but it’s finally my own, and that feels more significant to me than any book I’ve read. If you’re the type of person that spends years dreaming of and studying a place...do yourself a favor and go there. Whether it’s a two hour drive or a twenty hour flight, I promise it’ll be worth it.