eliminated . Ángela Loij , said to be the last full blood Selk ’ nam died in 1974 and just a few years later so did the language of the people .
The appalling history firmly planted somewhere in my consciousness , we retraced our ride along the Ruta 3 and entering Chile for a second time we headed west , along the Ruta 255 , deeper into the archipelago that forms this land .
As oddly as the desert and steppe had disappeared a few days earlier it reappeared , we were on the southern edge of the vast arid land . Farmers toiled with the landscape , agriculture of some sort battled with nature , very similar to those that try to tame my homeland ’ s outback .
Following the Argentine border we seemed wedged between an invisible boundary and that of the southern Andes , giant mountains rising from what seemed the ocean , the peaks creating islands , large fjords , and impossibly beautiful bays . Of course , this region is home to the Parque Nacional Torres del Paine , a national park of some significance , nestled a nook that is surrounded by Argentine parks of similar beauty .
Greens of too many shades to number separate the park from the nearby arid lands . Lakes fed by glaciers frame ragged peaks that reach for the sky . A blue hew washed over the vistas have a surreal effect that calms and yet excites the viewer . Towers of Blue seems a fitting name , Torres del Paine in the native language . Torres del Paine , three peaks that rise above all else in the Paine mountain range .
Around a quarter of a million tourists flock to Torres del Paine every year , such is the vastness that at times you ’ d think you were the only person in the area . Infrastructure is well developed within the park , and riding is easy , mostly gravel roads , camping areas are dotted about as well as hotels , small guest houses and
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