Our story goes back 56 years, to California.
On a hot summer day in 1968, 25-year-old Doug Tompkins dropped by to see his surfing and climbing partner, 30-year-old Yvon Chouinard. Like so many young people with wild ideas in their heads, the two chatted about everything under the sun, and then suddenly came up with a plan: “Let’s go climb a snow mountain together.”
Two weeks later, Doug sold the small mountaineering shop he had started two years earlier, and Yvon set aside his small business selling handmade pitons. Along with a few friends, they bought a used van and headed south from California, setting off on an adventure-filled road trip in the spirit of Kerouac, the idol of many young Americans at the time.
They surfed on beaches in Mexico, climbed volcanoes in Guatemala, trekked through rainforests in Costa Rica, sandboarded in the Chilean desert, and finally reached the southern tip of South America, standing before their goal.
This land was known for its ferocious winds and blizzards. They waited for nearly two months in cramped ice caves and at base camp before finally climbing the peak—a mountain not especially high in elevation, but full of technical difficulty. Decades later, Yvon recalled, “That climb, in some ways, determined the direction of our lives afterward.”
After returning to California, Yvon continued his outdoor gear business. A few years later, as it gradually expanded, it needed an official name and logo. Yvon thought of that unforgettable mountain, and named his company Patagonia.
Oh, and by the way, the company Doug sold was called The North Face.
Fifty-six years later, I came to the same land these two legends once visited.
In the small town of El Chalten, the hiking capital of South America, I spent a week filled with unforgettable memories. I biked through the wilderness at dawn and watched the first sunlight strike Fitz Roy; I stood in the unbelievable winds of Cerro Torre; I learned with a group of young people how to climb a giant boulder; and after setting out in the middle of the night, wanting to give up many times along the way, I finally walked 43,000 steps in a single day to reach the foot of Fitz Roy.
Patagonia is a land with a strange kind of charm.
But what impressed me even more was this: there were no ticket gates at scenic areas, no shuttle buses running on paved roads, no noisy local guides, and no “cheats” like cable cars or off-road motorcycles. There were just as many people from all over the world, and there was camping here too, yet somehow there was no trash at the campsites or on the trails.
The people who come here truly love nature. As Yvon once said, “We could take a helicopter to the foot of the mountain, but the most fascinating part of climbing isn’t the summit. What’s most captivating is the process of exploring the unknown and challenging yourself.”
The friendship between the two old men lasted a lifetime. Then in 2015, they once again went on a kayaking expedition together on Lake Carrera in Patagonia, but Doug’s kayak sadly capsized, and he remained forever in the land he loved most.
Given the chance, I’ll definitely return to Patagonia again.
