❝ It’s not hard to see why Chile’s Cochamó Valley is often compared to Yosemite. But the local community has other ideas for how best to protect this special place and its unique flora and fauna. ❞
This article was originally published in print in the Patagonia Journal and Patagonia.com in March 2025. Its authors are Rodrigo Condeza and Daniel Seeliger.
Nine pitches up Cerro Trinidad, a nearly 3,000-foot granite wall, I focus on finding a good hand jam and place my sore toes squarely below my body on a small ledge. I clip into a well-placed cam, free my other hand and pivot out, leaving my small bubble of intense focus to look out at a soaring condor, silently circling our position on a 10-foot wingspan.
Below, I can see the main river and the area known as La Junta, the epicenter of outdoor recreation in Cochamó Valley. This southern valley spans from Chile’s western Pacific inlets eastward to nearly touch Argentina’s border. Endless carpets of rainforest unfurl below me and lead down to the river that weaves between patches of green meadows. Thanks to two decades of local resistance against logging roads, hydroelectric plants, high-end tourism investment and real-estate development, this place has remained relatively unchanged since the early 1900s.
Lonely Planet guidebooks first labeled Cochamó “the Yosemite of South America” in the 1990s. The resemblance is hard to miss: big walls, a Merced-like river, green meadows and numerous waterfalls, breathtaking nature. However, Cochamó is more like Yosemite in 1890, before the race to build roads, hotels and shopping centers for tourists. As the comparison has been repeated throughout the last decades in the ongoing struggle to protect this place, those of us who love Cochamó are, in fact, fighting to keep it from becoming the Yosemite of South America.
“To describe the valley as ‘Yosemite-like’ is accurate,” says my friend Rodrigo Condeza, who has lived in the Cochamó area and fought to protect it since 2007. “There it ends. Its differences outshine the similarities: dense rainforest, no traffic noise, a Chilean arriero culture, a muddy five-hour ‘entrance fee’ hike, and an epicenter, La Junta, void of parking lots.” The challenge, as ever, is how to conserve what you also want to share.
I’m climbing in Puchegüín, an area in the southern half of the Cochamó Valley that is privately held. In 2022, it was slated to be sold at auction at Christie’s. This area holds most of the climbing walls and hiking trails in the Cochamó Valley—they weave their way through these mountains in an area that encompasses 328,650 acres. How can these glaciated and granite peaks, their forests and rivers be sold off to the highest bidder? Then again, what if the highest bidder could be us?
I first saw Trinidad in a photo back in 1999. I was a young climber living in southern Chile, and this little-known granite wall made me want to go somewhere without signs and that wasn’t a national park. Six months later, and after five hours of hiking with a 66-pound pack, I reached La Junta’s meadow where I was awestruck by the surrounding rock faces.
The next day, I hiked the steep two-hour trail from La Junta to Trinidad’s base and met a tall, smiling Brazilian named José ‘Chiquinho’ Hartmann. British climber Crispin Waddy bushwhacked for days through the thick underbrush to establish the first access trails and big-wall routes in 1997. Now, Chiquinho and his team are building extensions to these trails and adding a bathroom, working on the valley’s first fully free routes and drawing elaborate topos.
Over the next week, sharing camp with Chiquinho, I started to catch on. I got more satisfaction out of helping Chiquinho build trails for others than I did merely repeating hard routes myself. Truly being a part of a place wasn’t just seeing, climbing and posting photos on social media. Laboring to make it better for the next generation left an enduring satisfaction.
I was too used to climbers boasting loudly about their first ascents. Today, climbers consider Chiquinho’s mostly unpublished routes the area’s classics. One rainy day, I watched as he drew the details of his route on paper, then folded it carefully and placed his topo into a glass jar to leave behind for the next person to use.
In 2004, my then-pregnant wife, Silvina Verdún, and I bought land and moved into the valley. We’d met five years earlier while climbing in Mendoza, Argentina, and together we opened the area’s first campsite, Camping La Junta, in a 5-acre meadow beside the river.
At first, we were desperate to receive anyone. We charged $2.75 per night, and our first season saw fewer than 30 people. In between our endless projects, I searched for any opportunity to climb. “Are you a climber? Want to climb?” I asked any visitor who arrived.
We worked and learned. We helped shoe packhorses and lead them and their 176-pound loads up an 8-mile trail to our campground in La Junta, the epicenter for climbing and hiking. In time, we learned that the leaves of the native canelo plant can relieve stomach pain and make an antibacterial cleaning product; that a GORE-TEX jacket doesn’t compare to our neighbor’s homegrown, handwoven wool poncho; and that splitting firewood requires short, precise and energy-efficient chops, not the stereotypical muscle-man swings. Our son, Zen, was born in 2005, and we spent all seasons but winter in the valley until he was a teenager.
And though climbers’ eyes lit up at the thought of another Yosemite, the reality of staying here was quite different from being in a national park. One such climber and I helped Pelluco Sandoval, a local arriero who lived in Cochamó with his family, separate a calf from its mother that wandered the campground. The next day, over café con leche with milk fresh from the teat, the climber said, “Dude, this isn’t Camp 4, it’s Camp Farm!”
Zen grew. He’d climb trees, swim in the river and crawl onto guests’ laps without hesitation and ask them to read him a book. He ran barefoot across the pampa holding Chupete, his red hobbyhorse that he named after a local arriero’s horse. Zen greeted exhausted backpackers with a purple-stained face from maqui fruit—“Hola, hello,” he’d shout, not knowing what language they might speak.
Four years after starting our project, we met Rodrigo Condeza, a 30-something Chilean neighbor with a neatly trimmed beard, precise conversation and a short, high-pitched ha ha ha that made me laugh, even if I didn’t understand why.
We were all relatively new in the valley, isolated in a paradise far from the world’s gloomy issues, or so we thought. In 2008, a mega-hydroelectric project—seven dams, huge pipes, powerhouses and transmission lines—threatened the valley and thrust us into a fight to stop it. Together with Rodrigo, our spouses and the local Sandoval family, we entered a new phase of our lives. We became land defenders, and this first battle was the start of a major conservation movement that continues today.
“We didn’t really know how to do any of this,” Rodrigo remembers, “but we knew we had to try.” And the more we learned, the more we realized the importance of protecting the place that had given us so much.
Over the months ahead, we introduced as many people as possible to the still little-known Valle Cochamó. The battle took place across 50 separate meetings with politicians, political organizations, tourism directors, neighborhood associations and community groups. We ended each presentation on a slide showing a waterless Cochamó with a fork in the trail and a sign that read, “Which path do we take? Tourism or hydroelectricity? Yosemite or Hetch Hetchy?” Preparing for the worst, Rodrigo and I partnered up to buy six mining claims at $1,200 each in a last-ditch effort to block potential damming sites.
Luckily, the campaign to convince the nation succeeded. In 2009, the Chilean president decreed the river basin as the first water reserve in Chile, protecting the river from hydroelectric plants and halting the current projects. This sparked a local movement dedicated to safeguarding against similar threats. And Rodrigo and I joked that we could let our future riches in potential copper mines expire.
“When I knew the decree was real,” says Rodrigo, “I cried.”
Yet we soon learned that our new roles as land defenders would never end. Internally, a tourism boom in 2016 brought garbage, unburied feces, illegal fires and camps, drug use and a surge of serious accidents. Tatiana Sandoval, Pelluco’s daughter, led the newly formed Organización Valle Cochamó (OVC) to open a visitor’s center in a rusted shipping container to manage and educate visitors. Externally, we continued to fight against development. Only recently, the movement succeeded in a major campaign against an investor’s proposed 79-lot subdivision and also managed to have a 27,182-acre area declared a nature sanctuary along the northern half of the valley.
Maybe we shouldn’t have been surprised when the valley’s newest threat was actually an old one. Roberto Hagemann, a wealthy investor, had been secretly acquiring numerous land and water rights in the area since 2007, and made no secret about his position on development. Over a span of 15 years, Hagemann proposed the Mediterráneo hydroelectric project and numerous hypertourism projects; Rodrigo, Tatiana, the local organizations Puelo Patagonia and OVC, and the community fought against him every step of the way.
In June 2022, Hagemann acquired the Puchegüín estate and 124 acres right next to our campground. He proposed, yet again, roads, hotels and gondolas for high-paying clientele. But maybe our years of persistent opposition paid off, because he ended up listing Puchegüín for $150 million with Christie’s, right next to other pieces of luxury international real estate and beachfront mansions.
That’s when José Claro, the president of Puelo Patagonia, had an idea. Did Hagemann need to be Cochamó’s nemesis? José and Rodrigo ultimately won a supreme court battle against Hagemann in a brutal faceoff over his hydroelectric project in 2017, and his various high-impact development efforts failed to gain local approval. Maybe the attempted quick resale of Puchegüín indicated that Hagemann was on the ropes. José contacted him and began a conversation.
“Reaching an agreement with someone who has been your adversary for so long was clearly a major challenge,” José says. “But deep down in our souls, we both knew we needed each other.”
Eventually, the two sides set their differences apart and negotiated, creating today’s enormous opportunity for the community to buy Puchegüín for $63 million.
It’s a difficult amount to comprehend, let alone raise. The price tag is too high for Cochamó’s local NGOs. Thankfully, over the past two years, large conservation players like Freyja Foundation, Patagonia, Wyss Foundation and The Nature Conservancy joined the fundraising efforts and, together with contributions from individuals who believe in the project, donated nearly half of what was needed. With this alliance, a new coalition called Conserva Puchegüín was born, combining deep local knowledge with international expertise. Right now, Rodrigo continues his fight, albeit a little grayer and with a bit less hair, traveling around the world, meeting with other potential donors and growing a Chilean and worldwide effort.
Are we, Silvina and I, hypocrites? Sometimes, over the course of these fights, I’ve admitted to having doubts. After all, we bought land and later campaigned to deny a real-estate developer that same opportunity. We built a campground and refugio but fought investors’ hopes who wanted to develop an Ahwahnee-like hotel or a Curry-Village-like shopping center. Are we so different from them?
But then Silvina reminds me: We raised Zen in the valley. We’ve provided an affordable space for campers and the how-tos for using our composting toilets. The Sandovales take people by horseback through the valley. Rodrigo guides tourists up Trinidad’s trails. Local climber José Dattoli leads mountaineering classes in the Anfiteatro. Cristián “Mono” Gallardo leads volunteers in constructing bathrooms for climbers and hikers in the valley’s higher terrain. Tourism students greet backpackers at the visitors’ center. The local arrieros help build bridges and planks over difficult sections of the trail. Twenty-five years after he first started establishing climbing routes, Chiquinho still returns nearly annually to help with trail work, improve upon his own routes and pack out garbage. We have invited people in, but at a scale that the valley and the community can accommodate.
If you allow it, Cochamó makes a deep connection within you. We get our hands dirty and our boots muddy and sweat into the land. A seed is planted. These threats we’ve faced have come mainly from an outside vision that pushes its way in. Our community’s vision sprouts from within and pushes its way out.
“If I have kids,” Zen, now 19, says, “I’d like to raise them there among the huge trees and little animals … in Cochamó’s nature. There’s something powerful and beyond ourselves.”
Please join us in the effort to conserve Puchegüín and Cochamó. In a few short minutes, you can play a small role in creating one of the largest wildlife corridors in Latin America and a thriving future for the region’s communities, critters and ecosystems. Visit Conserva Puchegüín for more about what you can do and to donate.
Imagine enduring your first steep hike of several hours up the beautiful granite walls of Trinidad or Anfiteatro valleys, and just as you emerge from the forest you smell and then see smoke. As you get closer, you follow it back to its source to see a circle of blackened granite boulders, a smoking campfire, tents with plastic tarps, trash tossed aside, dirty pots and pans, and piles of camping and climbing gear everywhere. And not just one site, but many. In the distant bushes, scraps of feces and toilet paper.
Many hikers complained about these scenes and the human impact caused on nature by these campers, mostly climbers. During the last decade, the number of climbers and other visitors camping in the high altitude valleys of Anfiteatro, Trinidad, Paloma and Arco Iris has increased significantly, resulting in negative impacts to the particular ecosystems of each upper valley.
There is no one in charge of stopping disrespectful behavior towards Cochamó's nature except for you. Speak through your own example.
Several nonprofit organizations (Organización Valle Cochamó, Conserva Pucheguin, Puelo Patagonia and Friends of Cochamó), along with neighboring landowners, climbers and other tourist operators, have, in the past two years, pushed a campaign to minimize these impacts. They have implemented some of the following guidelines to follow.
This ancient forest with its millenary alerce trees and centenary coihues, mañios, tepas, is drier than ever due to climate change. To build a fire is to risk losing it! Please do not further impact or risk these fragile natural environments.
Help minimize the impact we generate on the fragile environment of these upper valleys.
• Only bivouac when necessary as part of the logistics for multi-pitch climbs that cannot be done starting from the camps in the La Junta sector.
• Keep your bivouac and your belongings out of sight of hikers. And when you spend the night bivouacking in the high valleys, please do so at a suitable distance from the main trail so as not to attract the attention of visitors who are not sufficiently informed and may assume that it is a free camping area.
On many occasions, these “camps” have attracted campers, especially non-climbers, who do not rely on advanced camps to achieve their multi-pitch goals.
The ecosystem of these valleys is fragile. And in high season, many climbers stay overnight and use this limited space. Please:
• Use the toilets already built in the valleys. There are two in Trinidad (the Trinidad Norte base and next to the bivouac boulder) and one in Anfiteatro.
• Use a biodegradable poop bag and take it out with you.
• Don't bury you poop . The wildlife will find, eat and spread it.
Many people drink from the same watercourse in the lower valley. And there are many of us who visit the valley. Wash and wash more than 70 meters from the watercourses and use biodegradable detergents or, ideally, no detergents. It is recommended to treat the water before drinking especially if you draw water from the stream in the Amphitheater.
Durante la temporada de verano 2019 Puelo Patagonia realizó gracias al apoyo del programa Patagonia Mar y Tierra de Pew Charitable Trusts, una investigación a cargo de un equipo multidisciplinario de la Universidad Austral de Chile quienes desarrollaron un diagnóstico del valle de Cochamó, en áreas correspondientes a recursos naturales, turismo y antecedentes culturales.
Más información en el Estudio Demanda Turistica Valle Cochamó hecho por el Puelo Patagonia.
Por Bruna Garretón
Fotografías: Francisco Muñoz
En medio de esta pandemia, en donde quienes tenemos el privilegio de poder estar en casa teletrabajando o en aislamiento voluntario a veces soñamos con el regreso libre a la Naturaleza, quisiera dejar una reflexión para tan anhelado momento futuro.
En 1860, George Catlin (de los primeros en describir a los aborígenes de América del Norte) escribió:
“Buena parte de lo agreste y lo montaraz en la obra de la naturaleza está condenado a desaparecer ante las devastadoras manos del hombre. Así, entre las huestes de lo viviente hallamos a menudo nobles estampas o hermosos colores que suscitan nuestra admiración y ponemos empeño en preservarlos con su primitiva rusticidad”.
No podemos olvidar que lo que hoy nos tiene confinados, es lo que la ciencia nos dijo hace décadas:
La crisis socioambiental traerá amenazas para la vida humana tal y como la conocemos hasta ahora.
Pandemias, cambio climático, derretimiento de glaciares, cambios en los regímenes de precipitaciones, entre muchas más, parecieran ser “amenazas”, cuando en realidad, tal como nos lo dijo Catlin, la verdadera amenaza para la vida en la Tierra somos los seres humanos. Sin mencionar la desigualdad en comunidades y grupos vulnerables:nunca olvidar que estamos en una crisis SOCIOambiental.
Estamos en el Antropoceno, la era geológica en la que el ser humano dejó una huella imborrable sobre la faz de la Tierra. Y en este momento histórico, en medio de toda la incertidumbre por la crisis sanitaria del COVID19, tenemos la hermosa oportunidad obligatoria de pausa y reflexión profunda: ¿Realmente queremos regresar a los hábitos y conductas que nos trajeron hasta el presente? ¿Y si mejor co-habitamos en armonía con la Naturaleza?.
Este verano pude volver por séptima vez a escalar en Cochamó, Región de Los Lagos, Chile. La primera vez que subí a La Junta fue hace 20 años, en modo vacaciones familiares cuando los toboganes aún eran secretos. Mucho barro, aventuras, cruce de ríos, camping y caminatas por el bosque sureño. ¡Imposible olvidar mi primera sanguijuela! Siempre me maravilló la perfección de la naturaleza.
Hace 10 años fue la primera vez que escalé en Pared Seca y los sectores deportivos. En visitas posteriores, en medio de caminatas con peso para entrenar las piernas y aproximarme a sectores más altos vinieron las primeras escaladas en tradicional. Conocí el Valle del Trinidad, el Anfiteatro, Matelandia, el Cerro Arcoíris, di la vuelta larga por el Paso El León y crucé a Argentina. Siempre aprendiendo a observar, reconocer especies de flora y fauna, respetar el silencio para escuchar aves, la lluvia intensa, descansos en el bosque y observar las estrellas en las noches de fogón.
Durante estas sucesivas visitas al valle, he podido ver cómo ha cambiado la afluencia y comportamientos de visitantes. Pese al esfuerzo y organización de algunos dueños para poner capacidad de carga máxima y limitar el acceso, aún no entendemos que nuestra visita perturba negativamente a los habitantes. Y con habitantes me refiero a concones, ranitas, chucaos, peces, huillines, cóndores, alerces, helechos, coicopihues, arrieros y lugareños y cuidadores…
Salirse del sendero, subir escuchando música a todo volúmen, gritarle a todo pulmón a tu cordada, dormir y acampar en lugares no establecidos, el uso que hacemos de los cuerpos de agua, realizar excursiones sin tomar en serio la preparación e información previa, no poner en práctica los principios de “no deje rastro”, y un laaaaargo etc, ponen de manifiesto nuestra real desconexión con los ecosistemas que permiten nuestra existencia.
Hasta hace algunos años, para comenzar el sendero había que caminar desde el puente. Hoy llegan varios buses al día hasta el inicio mismo del sendero. Cochamó es un destino mundial de escalada en roca, el “Yosemite chileno”, pero sin el ruidos de motores y urbe de su símil norteamericano. También sus apariciones en redes sociales, hacen que cada año más gente quiera ir a realizar los trekking de Cochamó y regresar con sus fotos propias en tan magnífico lugar. Durante Enero y Febrero, los campings llegan a su capacidad máxima con el peak de visitantes… ¿Y el resto del año? Seguramente la resiliencia de sus habitantes atenúa y se recuperan del impacto de la temporada alta.
La resiliencia ecosistémica planetaria se vincula con la capacidad de la Naturaleza de recuperarse y repararse año a año. De las definiciones más simples que existen de Naturaleza está mi preferida de Edward O. Wilson de 1984:
“La Naturaleza es la parte del medio ambiente original y de sus formas de vida que perdura después de sufrir el impacto de la acción humana. Abarca todo lo que en el planeta Tierra no tiene necesidad de nosotros y es autónomo”.
Si en realidad queremos tener la oportunidad de (re)visitar lugares que, como dice Catlin, inconscientemente nos nazca querer preservar, debemos cuestionar nuestro actuar. No solo mientras dura nuestra visita, sino durante todo el resto del año.
Todos los días, nuestras decisiones cotidianas de consumo, nuestro involucramiento con la comunidad que formamos parte, nuestra participación en la toma de decisiones, a quién entregamos nuestro dinero, las actividades que realizamos o dejamos de realizar, cómo y de qué nos alimentamos, qué industrias y modelos de desarrollo apoyamos, son todas algunas de las formas en las que marcamos nuestra huella en este mundo.
También podemos reflexionar respecto al cambio hoy tan necesario: cambiar la lógica EGOsistémica hacia un paradigma ECOsistémico, en donde el ser humano es parte de la red, y no dueño de los “recursos naturales”.
E. Wilson es claro y simple: la Tierra no tiene necesidad de nosotros. La vida en este planeta continuará de todas formas, y estamos en medio de una crisis mundial que nos entrega la opción de poder pensar y decidir si queremos continuar formando parte de la Naturaleza. La dominación ilusoria que nos trajo hasta el presente no da más. Toda civilización pasada que ha degradado el medioambiente se ha desmoronado.
El ahuyentar a gritos a un Cóndor en pleno vuelo mientras escalamos una gran pared o recorremos un sendero de altura en Cochamó es señal de desconexión y una falta de respeto hacia nosotras/os mismas/os, pues formamos parte de la compleja trama que nos permite visitar lugares como el Valle de La Junta en Cochamó.
Hagamos las paces con nuestra naturaleza humana y en esta pausa obligada, dialoguemos colaborativamente en todos los espacios que nos sea posible, sobre el cómo decidiremos co-habitar cuando podamos volver a salir.
Es una invitación proactiva a empoderarnos en todo aquello que nos importe y que hemos detectado nos es esencial en estos momentos críticos. Involucrarnos activamente en nuestros entornos directos, y desde la reflexión profunda por la movilización interna de nuestros sentimientos, pasar a la acción.
La Naturaleza continúa. Entendamos que no la “visitamos” ni tampoco está allá afuera. Formamos parte y somos Naturaleza. Mal que mal, somos un ecosistema de microorganismos…
Queda abierta la invitación, ¡nos vemos en algún sendero!
Bruna Garretón es una Ing.Agrónoma en gestión ambiental. Alimentación Sustentable 🍓Es Veggie, escaladora y eskiadora. Trabaja en la Cátedra de Sustentabilidad de la UC, y es presidenta de Huellas Verdes Cop.
How much time should I stay to climb in Cochamó?
Some stay months. Standard is two weeks to a month. The main question, however, is, how much time do you have? Minimum time to climb a big route in Cochamó is seven days. If the weather holds, you're well prepared, etc., you may get in one, maybe two 10-plus-pitch routes and some cragging. Check out Strategies For Climbing in Cochamó below for helping to plan your day-by-day visit.
What do you recommend I climb?
The single-pitch climbing is good, but the bigwall climbing is what makes Cochamó a world-class destination. For route information, check out Cochamó's Climbing Routes and, furthermore, once in the valley, consult with other climber to receive recommendations for your level of climbing.
When's the climbing season?
December to end of March. See the page When To Go.
So, I've heard this place labeled the Yosemite of South America. Well, is it?
No, it's Cochamó. And Yosemite is the Cochamó of North America. But, as a first impression and as a four-word description, it's not bad.
I'm traveling without climbing gear. Can I rent in the valley?
You will not be able to rent gear in the valley. In general, it's difficult to find any place that rents gear in the area.
Travelers, that are also climbers, that are traveling light, should bring their basic gear: harness, ATC, leash, shoes, chalk.
An option for some is to contract a climbing guide. Check out Cochamó's Guides.
The surest and least expensive option, although heavier in the pack, is to carry your own equipment. See What Climbing Gear To Bring down below.
I don't have a climbing partner. Is it difficult to find one there?
In high season, it is possible to partner with other climbers. You can post on the Compañeros de Escalada / Climber Partner Board, leave a note on the Camping La Junta info board or simply talk to other climbers in the camping.
Do I need to reserve?
Yes, reservations are required. The best climbing season is the high tourist season months, so the valley tends to be at maximum capacity. Before December and after March are much less crowded but also less likely to have good climbing weather. Also look for discounts at the campground for longer stays.
To reserve in the campground with the climber discount,
(1) go to Camping La Junta Reservations,
(2) accept the policies and
(3) be sure to check the box that indicates you'd like to stay 10 or more nights.
Is there free camping?
No. In past years the valley began to collapse due to a large influx of visitors and a high volume of irresponsible camping in its wilderness areas. This impact caused locals to generate a management plan to care for the valley. Please collaborate by respecting the recommendations. If paying for camping and reserving is not for you, please consider another destination. Patagonia is full of less popular places with great climbing. In any case, in any destination, practice leave-no-trace ethics and respect the environment and local norms.
Despite preparing for a successful climbing trip, many climbers find that without knowing why, at the end of the trip they climbed too little and hiked too much for their liking. Below are some basic and efficient strategies for enjoying the routes and beauty of the valley. Seven days is not ideal for a climbing trip, but it serves to exemplify a step-by-step climbing plan.
Day 1: Arriving to Cochamó Valley. First, make the 2-to-3-hour trip by bus or vehicle from Puerto Montt / Varas to Cochamó town. If you're going via bus, start from Puerto Montt and get the earliest bus (be there by 7:30 a.m.).
Next, get your taxi or make the long gravel-road walk to the trailhead. And finally make the 4-to-6 hour hike to La Junta Camping or Refugio Cochamó at the valley's center (walls all around). If you'r coordinating with packhorses to carry in your gear, it's best to stay in Cochamó town and get a taxi to the trailhead where you'll meet your packhorses in the morning. Set up a base camp at the camping.
Day 2: Relax, waterfalls and cragging. Most people take a day to relax at this point, go to the waterfalls and crag. Also get your route logistics from other climbers and the topo book. Too many have failed to learn about the approach, where the route starts, get lost and loose prescious time and energy. If your rushed, mega strong or just anxious, pack this day into Day 3's itinerary.
Day 3: Approach to an upper valley. Day 3: Hike to the upper valleys. Hike to one of the bivouac sites (no tents please) in the upper valleys near the walls. Most of these - Trinidad, Anfiteatro, Paloma, Arco Iris - have a 2-to-4 hour approach. Set up your bivouac out of site of hikers, eat, prepare the rack and sleep.
Day 4: Climb a multipitch. Start early. Don't forget your headlamp. For example, Bienvenidos a mi Insomnio is 20 pitches, and most will do this in a very long day. Return to your bivy, eat and sleep.
Day 5. Rest. Or if you're not tired, yesterday's route wasn't big enough or your super strong, keep climbing.
Day 6: Climb another mutipitch. Climb another. Some will, after the completing the route, hike back down on the same day to Camping La Junta.
Day 7: Repeat the two previous days or return to the camping. Climb or return to Camping La Junta or refugio. Go relax at a waterfall area, beach on the river, deep-water bouldering pool and cragging near the camping. Plan for a hike into another valley to climb its classics or head out.
*Important: Any of these days can be interrupted by rain. That's why it's ideal to have the option to retreat to your base camp in Camping La Junta in the case it continues. It's best to plan on having extra days for bad weather.
Also see When to go, Logistics and Camping for more practical information to plan your trip.
Ropes: Most routes have pitches and descents less than 60 meters. Bring two 60-meter ropes.
Helmet: This should be your most important piece of gear. Cochamó is a new area with unpredictable possibilities to injure your head - lots of new routes, loose rock, unforseen run outs, etc.
Rack: Have two sets of cams. One set of offsets are especially helpful, especially on the smaller side. One set of nuts with a decent assortment of micros. One or two large cams (Camalot num. 4 and 5). A num. 5, for example, is particularly nice for the classics Al Centro y Adentro and Las Manos del Día.
Pulleys: To get to some walls, pulleys can be essential. Some trails access walls by crossing fixed lines and cables that span rivers sometimes too difficult to cross by foot.
Rings & cord: Many routes need rings and/or cord for rappelling. It's wise to carry some on routes less frequently climbed. Don't forget a small knife or scissors for cutting. Ask about your route from other climbers or the climber camp hosts in Camping La Junta.
Aid gear: Many first ascents and existing aid lines require pins, pitons, copper heads and other aid gear. Beaks are some of the most commonly used.
Gear for opening new routes: The majority of first ascents require bolts. Please only use stainless steel and nothing less than 10 mm or 3/8" in diameter.
Portaledges: They are not necessary for repeating most routes. Having a portaledge can be convenient on the rock especially if you get stuck in bad weather or plan to establish a new route up a particularly long steep line. Most climbers, however, leave the extra weight to lug around at home.
Insurance: Having insurance that covers helicopter rescue may increase the chances of a quick rescue.
Cash: Withdrawl or exchange the money you'll need in Puerto Varas or Puerto Montt before arriving. Cochamó town does not have ATM machines, banks or places to exchange money.
Paper & pen: Don't depend solely on battery from your camera to take photos of the topos. Charging your batteries here can be difficult to impossible.
Un circuito común es Cochamó, la zona de Bariloche (como Frey y Biblioteca), La Comarca (alrededor de El Bolsón) y Piedra Parada. Y aquellos que se quedan varios meses pueden incluir otros destinos muy conocidos como el Chaltén, Valle de los Condores y Arenales.
Check out the Climber's Circuit Map. It includes the main areas most climbers hit during their trip.
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