Cerro Balmaceda – Bernardo O'Higgins National Park – Chile
Cerro Balmaceda is a beautiful mountain, very imposing, from Puerto Natales. It was an obvious choice when making a list of objectives for this trip with Irie Smith and Isi Assler. We arrived in Puerto Natales on Friday, September 7th. A windswept desert full of basalt pebbles and jarilla bushes, surrounding a small puerto town, by the Pacific Ocean.
Cerro Balmaceda held another meaning that went beyond our own climb. Its story was intertwined with ours in a way that felt destined. On November 8th, 1957, Marko’s grandfather, Ivan Arnšek stood on its summit for the very first time, etching his name into its history. Decades later, we found ourselves tracing his footsteps. I know it was special for Marko to be there, but it was also very special for me. Our grandfathers were very good friends, and three generations later the bond between two families is still there.
The reunion with the girls was ecstatic. We have been dreaming about a mission in Patagonia for so long! There was no shortage of tears and laughter, when we got together. Months have passed since we last saw each other, each girl on her own continent. Living her own life, living her own ups and downs and there was a lot to catch up on! Everything and anything can change and each one of us lives a very dynamic life.
The permit process was something I wanted to get started on, as soon as possible. From my experience climbing Torre Norte and Cuerno Principal, the permits aren’t an easy task. Three of our four-person team aren’t from Chile so that added an extra step to the process. We didn’t hear back from the government officials as fast as we were hoping to. Without a permit, it’s not "encouraged" to go after an objective, but after a few days of calling, stressing and looking at the weather every 5 minutes, we started to consider that option. We exhausted every single resource we had. Calling friends, who would connect us to other friends, who could connect us to anyone in the administration office at Bernardo O'Higgins National Park. Nobody wanted to touch our case. The answer was always the same. “Ok, I will connect you with this guy, he can help you.” Until we got to the last guy that oversaw permits in the park that straight up told us; “Sorry girls, this isn’t a mission for you. It is a dangerous undertaking that requires mountaineering experience. You aren’t aware of what you’re about to experience on that mountain and it is a risk too high to take, for us to let you go up that peak.”
Can you imagine what that did to three wound up, tired and frustrated girls who wanted to climb a mountain? It pushed us over the limit.
It was a stressful few days. Because nothing seemed to be clicking and some members of the team were slowly starting to lose hope in our plan.
On Sunday we decided to say screw it. We are going up.
The public boat transportation that brings tourists to the bottom of the glacier was out of the plan. They dock right in front of the ranger's office and it would be impossible to blend into the crowd of tourists with our 30 kg backpacks and skis/snowboards. We had to look for an alternative. It seemed like one problem disappeared and three more appeared in front of us.
A private boat charter was a good option, but expensive. But as soon as we started making calls, we also started to lose hope on that. One sentence, confirming we don’t have permits, quickly ended the call. Nobody wanted to take us up without a permit.
A friend of mine mentioned an option of kayaking down Rio Serrano, and ending at the base of Cerro Balmaceda, right where the river meets the ocean.
I loved that option, but it added a whole new spin to the expedition. That way would take us at least 2 days, plus we then have to figure out how to return. With stable weather, that is not a problem, but this was Patagonia. Nothing is stable here.
Kayaking on rivers isn’t to be taken lightly. None of us were expert kayakers, so we had to be honest with ourselves about what we can take on. Apart from that, returning back to Natales on the unpredictable fjord with the storm coming right after our weather window wasn’t the best plan in the world. We decided to contact a local kayak guide, who would take us down the river. We met up with Angelo for dinner on Monday night.
He would accompany us to the base of Cerro Balmaceda and we would not have to worry about the water aspect of this expedition. I felt calm again… for the time being anyways.
September 9th 2025 — Puerto Natales
”The last few days haven’t been a big emotional rollercoaster. Yesterday’s 22 km hike to Base Torres was great for my soul, but maybe less for my body that needs rest.
The full moon on September 7th was intense. Irie told us it was a chaotic full moon. Not in a bad way, but the kind of moon that flips everything around and stirs shit up. It is the time to let go of the outcomes and immerse ourselves with the process and this beautiful place we get to call home for a month. Puerto Natales is an incredible place. Then again, it’s not hard to impress me these days. A good mate, granite towers, good company and fresh air. I’m a happy girl.
Today, some unexpected news entered my mailbox. We received a permit from the government. What does that mean? We need to decide; do we go to the local CONAF office or simply proceed with our plans?”
Isi and I decided to go to the CONAF office and ask for their blessing to climb Cerro Balmaceda. We explained our experience and showed them we were prepared for every aspect of the trip. They agreed to let us go.
9 am, September 10th — in the fjord approaching base of Cerro Balmaceda
“I woke up early after lying in bed all night. The night before a mission, I never sleep that well. I am always too excited to close my eyes. A slow morning quickly turned into a chaotic one, putting everyone in the cars with our endless kilos of gear. But by 8 am the catamaran from 21 de Mayo departed from Puerto Bories.”
7.05 am, September 11th — Cerro Balmaceda base camp
“Dark clouds are hugging the mountain. I think I woke up too early. It’s very dark and a little discouraging. Strong winds rolled me in and out of my dreams all night long.
Yesterday’s approach slowly killed our souls in 7 or 8 hours of bushwhacking and scrambling up the mountain. It was grueling, steep, and long. After navigating the ocean, climbing over rocks to avoid getting wet for the first couple kilometers on the coast before turning left and straight up into a Patagonian jungle. Patagonia is unforgiving. Raw.
And to approach a big mountain that has no trail or marks of direction isn't easy.
My shoulders hurt from a 35 kg backpack. But my mind is clear.”
We left camp around 8 AM. Irie decided to stay back due to sickness, so the summit team was Isi, myself, and Marko as our filmer. The first step was to cross the lagoon and get on the glacier. Thankfully, the lagoon was frozen solid. We moved fast, even though roped up. We reached Col De Gallina (chicken col, named after a chicken-shaped rock on the windiest part of the pass) around 12.30 pm.
Navigating the small glacier before the cold was quite easy in these late winter/spring conditions without much snow over the past few months. The day was gorgeous. I couldn’t help but think how lucky we got with this comfortable weather. We descended to the ridge crossing Serrano Glacier and got to the NE face of Cerro Balmaceda. The summit looked far…
I was starting to worry about the speed that we were moving at. This glacier with a sea of seracs above us required a bit more brain power to navigate (and time). A lot more open crevasses and not all of them had a way to cross. Some were as wide as 20-30 feet with no solid bridge on sight. And the only option was to turn around and try another way. We lost a lot of time searching for the right way up. The day was warm and my concern with these temperatures had me looking at all the massive pieces of ice hanging above our heads, waiting to fall.
We decided to change our approach and stick to the big cliff on the left side of the face. We strapped our boards to our backpacks and started boot packing. Using our pictures and the track I made on Google Earth, we were making progress, but very slowly. At some point, I heard a big oomph under my feet. I quickly moved forward and glanced back at my team. It didn't look like Isi or Marko heard that. Probably for the best. I kept going.
What is my intuition telling me right now?
I really wanted that summit. But unfortunately, it wasn’t our time to summit. We made a very hard decision around 5 pm to turn around and ride down. We were only a couple of hundred meters away from the summit. But still a very long way from the camp. I left with a little bit of regret in my heart. All the bullshit and the permit business we had to overcome to be able to be here.
Some people say they don’t care about the summit, I think they just aren’t honest with themselves. To not reach the summit after putting in so much work is disappointing either way. Whichever way you turn it. You can have an amazing day in the mountains and still leave a little disappointed. I think it’s totally fair and natural.
But everything always happens for a good reason. We found our reason an hour later. When we were passing Col De Gallina, we got wrapped in horrendous winds that would throw us to the ground in half a second. It was a struggle to continue, but we were screaming with joy. I have a few moments like this in life but I felt truly and completely alive.
Gusts with over 70 km/h would throw us down, we had to wait half a minute for the gust to stop and then continue… As soon as we stepped on the glacier on the other side the war was over. A beautiful sunset ride down to the lagoon with our base camp at sight made me feel very grateful. All the disappointment I felt over not making the summit was gone. To experience those winds that far up on the mountain without the possibility of going down would be a different story. Everything always happens for a reason. So they say.
Isi is a strong partner in the mountains, and this mission just proved our “alignment”. I’m glad to be doing this with a woman who handles these conditions well and is strong like a bull. Balmaceda was a good test. The partners that we chose in the mountains matter more than any other decision we make.
On the other hand, it’s also important to be aligned. Choosing an objective together is an easy part. The hard part is aligning on what you want to get out of the mountain. Is it the summit? Is it an experience with friends? Pretty sunsets? Is it a sweet ski or board out? Is it a challenge?
At this moment of my life, I feel motivated and very driven. I’m happy to push myself and test my limits. It’s not always simple. I’m looking for a challenge and I’m enjoying the uncomfortable elements and a little bit of suffering. It makes comfortable moments feel so sweet.
When we returned to camp, Irie waited for us with hot water and sandwiches. I felt happy and recapping the whole day with her was fun. Adding another beautiful mountain to my list of Patagonian lovers is special, summit or not. It will always be in my heart.”
Friday, the 12th of September was when the weather got really bad. We made a final decision to leave the mountain, a day early. Packing up the camp and walking down, I felt good.
Bittersweet, but knowing in my heart that I will return to this mountain, when the time is right. The wind wasn’t stopping. Even our descent wasn’t easy. Loaded again, with 30 to 35kgs of gear on our backs, we descended to sea level. The catamaran that brings tourists to look at the glaciers in the area passes the Porto Torro dock only three times a week, in the winter. The next navigation was Sunday, so I had to wait for two days before going back to civilization. We bivyied under the roof, on a deck of the ranger's office.
“The power of women together in the mountains is strong. Not in a strong force kind of way. Strong in a sense of belonging, in a sense of connection, confidence, and feeling the same feeling without the need to explain ourselves.”
By the time the boat picked us up, we were more than ready to leave that world behind and go back into the ‘real world’. Whatever that means.