Words and Photos by Chloe Hammond @chlo_hammond
For the past few years, I’ve lived my life from trip to trip. College became a rhythm of departure and return, as I was always preparing for the next landscape, the next group, the next lesson. Through it all, I’ve tried to practice presence, to lean fully into wherever I am.
Now, in 2026, I find myself on the other side of graduation from Fort Lewis College (FLC) in Durango, Colorado. The past four years reshaped me in ways I couldn’t have imagined when I arrived. This community introduced me to mentors who expanded my sense of possibility, friends who feel like family, and experiences that quietly redirected the course of my life.
One of those experiences was co-leading the O Circuit in Torres del Paine National Park in January 2026 with a group of Friends of Outdoor Pursuits. This group consisted of friends, donors, and alumni of FLC who support the Outdoor Pursuits program. Their generosity helps make student trips more accessible and affordable, allowing students to step into the same kinds of transformative experiences.
The O Circuit stretches roughly 80 miles through Chilean Patagonia, weaving past glaciers, wind-scoured passes, turquoise lakes, and the granite towers of the Paine Massif. Unlike most backpacking routes, each night ends at a refugio with warm meals, showers, and the rare luxury of setting down a pack without having to cook. It is a distinctive way to move through wild terrain, and it shaped the rhythm of our nine days on trail.
Leading this trip felt like both a culmination and a beginning. I was only weeks removed from graduation, a brand-new alum guiding a group of alumni and friends, and it was my first time leading a trip internationally. Even more unexpectedly, my parents joined the trip as participants. What began as a leadership opportunity became something far more layered. I consider this to be a professional milestone, a grand adventure, and a quiet farewell to the structure of college life.
I booked a one-way plane ticket to southern Chile for this trip. Writing from Cusco, Peru, I have continued north through Chile, Argentina, and Peru, letting this expedition mark the opening chapter of a longer journey through South America.
Patagonia had long lived in the realm of “someday.” I never expected that someday would arrive like this, as both a responsibility and a gift. To represent Outdoor Pursuits and myself in a place as vast as Torres del Paine felt significant in ways I am still unfolding.
THE TRAIL IN MOMENTS
Our group consisted of nine wonderful humans from across the United States, each with a meaningful connection to FLC and Outdoor Pursuits. We met in Puerto Natales, Chile, in mid-January. Our trip began with Calafate and Pisco Sours as we prepared for departure the following morning.
In hindsight, nine days can feel brief. It is easy to say that once you are on the other side. But this trip reminded me how much can unfold in just nine days.
THE W SIDE: FINDING OUR RHYTHM
The national park is famous for two routes: the W and the O Circuits. The O includes the W, plus a more remote section on the northern side of the park. On the map below, the blue line marks the W while the red marks the O.
We began on the western side, taking a catamaran to Paine Grande Refugio and hiking through classic Patagonian wind and rain to our first camp at Frances Refugio. The first days on trail are always about finding rhythm as a group. It often takes a few days for a group to figure each other out. Similarly, it took me a few days to find my leadership voice again. I had not led a trip since April, and I had never worked with this age group before.
Thankfully, this group made it easy. They moved quickly past surface-level conversation and into something more genuine. That shift was noticeable and refreshing.
Our early days brought the most rain and cold temperatures of the trip. Heavy packs reminded our bodies what backpacking requires. On our second day, we climbed toward Mirador Británico in the rain, carrying only daypacks. The trail wound upward through the Frances Valley, and anticipation built as we gained elevation. This viewpoint is known for its sweeping granite amphitheater of the Paine Massif.
When we reached the top, cold and damp, we stood inside a cloud. The ridgelines and towers were completely obscured.
Still, it felt important to stand there, to appreciate the scale of something we could not see. On the descent, we stopped at the refugio for donuts, peeling off wet layers and once again appreciating the unique rhythm of hiking between refugios. That evening, we arrived at Cuernos Refugio for our second night on trail.
A few days later, at 3 a.m., we left Chileno Refugio for our second major day hike, ascending to the Base of the Torres. Headlamps led the way during our quiet morning climb. When we reached the moraine, the sky began to soften and the towers slowly revealed themselves. We found a place to sit as the first light crossed the granite.
That morning felt surreal. I could not quite believe that my job had opened this door, not only to see this view, but to stand there in a leadership role.
Later that day at Central Refugio, exhaustion gave way to lightheartedness. We shared drinks with hikers from Germany and continued to marvel at the refugio lifestyle. The balance between rugged terrain and warm communal spaces shaped our experience in unexpected ways.
LEAVING THE W: THE QUIETER SIDE OF THE O
When we passed Central the following morning and continued north, we crossed an invisible threshold. The crowds thinned, and trail traffic began flowing in a single direction. Camps became smaller, and the route grew more remote. We had been looking forward to feeling like we were really out there, and now we were.
Between Serón, Dickson, and Los Perros, we traveled along Lago Dickson, which feeds the Río Paine and curves around the northeast side of the circuit. We saw Dickson Glacier, a small extension of the Southern Patagonian Ice Field, which spans more than 200 miles. The lakes glowed with that unmistakable glacial blue, colored by suspended glacial flour.
By the time we climbed toward Los Perros, our most remote camp, the group dynamic had fully settled. Early-trip hesitations had faded. People walked in rotating pairs and small clusters. Conversations overlapped and re-formed throughout the day.
We enjoyed a final charcuterie-style lunch overlooking Laguna Los Perros and Glacier Los Perros, followed by short naps in the sun. Although the trip was nearing its end, we still had what we considered our crux ahead: John Gardner Pass.
JOHN GARDNER PASS
We woke early to ensure a smooth crossing of the notoriously windy pass. In the days prior, park rangers and other hikers had warned us about its intensity.
We reached the top ahead of schedule and, remarkably, with no wind. Below us stretched Glacier Grey. From that vantage point, we could see where we had been and what remained of the journey. The still air felt ironic given all the warnings. My past few months including graduation, planning this trip, stepping into a new phase of life, all of which had been full of motion, were suddenly quiet. Standing at the top of the O, I felt overwhelmed with gratitude for the people on the venture with us and for the place.
Although we had considered the pass to be our crux, the true challenge was the descent. The trail grew steep and muddy, with large step-downs, heavy packs, and accumulated fatigue. Movement required patience and focus. We arrived at Refugio Grey, back on the W side, after our longest day on trail. The early mornings and longer mileage days had built the capacity we needed for that stretch.
AN IMPERFECT ENDING
Our final day was efficient. We left Refugio Grey, hiked to Paine Grande, and caught the catamaran across Lago Pehoé. From there, we retraced our multi-step journey back to Puerto Natales.
At the bus station, we learned the bus we had booked did not exist. The delay added a few hours to our travel. We spoke with other drivers, considered alternatives, and eventually secured transportation back to town. Logistically, this was our only mishap and on a trip of this scale, it felt almost expected.
GRATITUDE AND GROWTH
Over these nine days, I struggled at times to process the weight of this transition in my life, even as I recognized this trip as a marker of it. Leading internationally, guiding a new age group, having my parents as participants, the same people who first taught me to love the outdoors. All of these factors gave this experience more depth.
It was meaningful to witness how Outdoor Pursuits had shaped others long before me and to contribute to that ongoing legacy. I am filled with gratitude for this place, this program, and for the people who trusted us to guide them through Patagonia.
Hyperlite Mountain Gear supported my co-leader, Kate, and I with the Windrider and Southwest 70L packs for this journey. These packs kept our gear dry and secure through Patagonian wind and rain, and they were well-suited for the variability of this route. Thank you, HMG, for your continued support.
This trip would not have been the same without our group. Steven, Kristen, Krisy, Scott, Kristy, Christine, and McLean — thank you for your trust, energy, and openness. I was also fortunate to lead alongside Kate, whose steady presence and dedication shaped the experience in countless ways.
I am now continuing north through South America, carrying the momentum of this journey with me. Torres del Paine is remarkable, and experiencing it in this way, as a leader, alum, and lifelong student of the outdoors, is something I will always value.
Thank you for the opportunity.
