The Edge of the World and the Women Who Walk It
Patagonia, especially its southernmost stretches near Tierra del Fuego, often feels like the end of the world. Wind howls like a living presence.
Frost bites year-round. Volcanic soils crunch beneath heavy boots. And yet, despite the intensity of this environment, or perhaps because of it, women continue to walk — alone, in groups, as guides, as pilgrims. And they do so with purpose.
Between icy rivers and ancient forests scorched by fire, these women are not just navigating terrain — they are walking through loss, rebirth, trauma, healing, and identity.
Their stories, shaped by extremes of weather and life, form an invisible trail of resilience that threads its way through Patagonia’s unforgiving beauty.
This article follows those women — mothers, survivors, healers, loners — who lace their boots not in search of escape, but to confront what cannot be escaped.
A Landscape of Contrasts: Ice and Flame
Southern Patagonia is a land defined by dualities. Glaciers sleep in silence while volcanoes murmur below. Forests bloom and then burn. Winds freeze while sunburns rise on exposed cheeks.
Women who hike here don’t just prepare gear — they prepare mindsets. To walk in these regions is to accept contradiction. The sun and snow may arrive on the same day. Hope and grief, too.
Camila Ortega, a firefighter turned hiking guide, shares:
“After the wildfires near Tolhuin, I started hiking alone into the burn zones. I thought I was going to cry for the trees. But I ended up crying for myself. For what I had buried to survive.”
Fire: The Catalyst of Courage
Fire, in these stories, is rarely just elemental. It becomes metaphor — for destruction, yes, but also for clarity. Several women recount transformative moments while walking through charred landscapes.
In 2022, a group of female volunteers initiated what they called the “Ruta del Renacer” (Route of Rebirth) — a trail that passes through previously burned areas in Tierra del Fuego. The idea: walk through what had been destroyed, plant native seeds, and leave symbolic messages along the way.
Many of these women had survived personal fires — divorce, abuse, illness, or burnout. Walking through scorched earth helped them process it.
One of the trail creators, Luciana, explained:
“Fire humbles. You can’t control it. But you can choose to walk back into what it destroyed and decide what you will rebuild.”
Frost: The Keeper of Silence
On the other side of the emotional spectrum is frost — quiet, biting, still. In many narratives, it represents grief, isolation, or suppressed memories. But also, surprisingly, peace.
Some women specifically choose winter treks in the far south to confront numbness — literal and emotional. The cold mirrors the emotional distance they’ve built to cope with pain.
María, a teacher from Punta Arenas, did her first solo hike through the snowy Dientes de Navarino route after her mother died:
“I didn’t want to talk to anyone. The silence of the snow felt like the only thing that understood. And then, somewhere along the trail, I realized I wasn’t frozen anymore. Just quiet. And that was okay.”
Stories Etched in the Landscape
Each trail carries a story, but those stories deepen when women walk them with intention. Here are just a few that have emerged along the southernmost trails:
1. Laguna Esmeralda: A Place to Begin Again
A popular yet wild hike near Ushuaia, this trail has become symbolic for many women starting over. Survivors of domestic violence, women recovering from illness, or those stepping out of long relationships often choose this path for a symbolic “first walk.”
They leave ribbons tied to trees or small rock altars at the edge of the lagoon — visible only to those who know where to look.
2. Paso O’Higgins: Crossing Borders, Internally and Literally
This remote pass between Chile and Argentina is technically demanding and rarely traveled. For a group of Indigenous women from the Kawésqar community, it became a spiritual return to ancestral waters. Their 2023 crossing was both a political act and a deeply personal reclaiming of movement across once-free lands.
3. Volcán Hudson Trail: Walking Along Memory Fault Lines
This trail, which skirts a volcano known for one of Patagonia’s most devastating eruptions, is where women who have experienced sudden loss come to walk. It’s not officially a grief trail, but has become one. Some carry ashes of loved ones. Others simply come to say goodbye.
The Gear of Resilience: What These Women Carry
The items in a woman’s pack often tell more about her journey than her route. Beyond the basics (tent, food, layers), many hikers carry:
- A photo or letter from someone they’ve lost.
- A small firestone or charcoal as a symbol of surviving emotional fires.
- A frost-glazed pebble to remind them that silence is also sacred.
- Threads for weaving at campsites — some women braid fabric as they process emotions.
- Journals with prompts like: What have I survived? What still burns inside me? What is worth the cold?
Trail Companionship: Sisterhoods Born of Elements
While many women walk alone, communities are forming — not in cities, but on the trails. Through informal gatherings like Círculos del Sur and WhatsApp groups called Mujeres del Frío, hikers share routes, stories, warnings, and encouragement.
Sometimes they hike together in silence. Other times, they gather around a fire and share stories that haven’t been spoken aloud in years.
The frost teaches presence. The fire teaches truth. Together, they forge friendships deeper than many women have ever experienced.
Lessons From the Land
1. You Don’t Have to Be Warm to Heal
Cold teaches you to listen to your body. To move, breathe, protect yourself. Emotional cold can do the same — it signals something needs tending, not ignoring.
2. Destruction Can Clear the Way
Whether it’s a wildfire or a breakdown, sometimes the only way forward is through ashes. The women who embrace that know they’re not broken — just between versions of themselves.
3. Stillness Can Be Active
On a frosty peak, a woman may seem still. But inside, memories shift, ideas form, courage builds. Stillness is not stagnation. It’s preparation.
How to Embark on Your Own Fire & Frost Walk
You don’t need to be in Patagonia to walk this path metaphorically. Here’s how to start:
- Choose your season. Are you walking through fire (intense change) or frost (grief, quiet)?
- Pick a route that reflects it. A burnt forest, a snowy park, a windy cliff.
- Set an intention. What are you letting go of? What are you walking toward?
- Mark it. Bring something symbolic — a candle stub, a piece of ice, a red thread.
- Walk slowly. This isn’t a race. Let the elements speak.
- Return again. Just like the land, you will change with each season.
Resilience Has a Trailhead
To walk the southernmost trails is to touch both fire and frost, pain and peace, silence and song. The women who do it aren’t trying to prove their strength — they are reclaiming it.
Their resilience isn’t forged in comfort but in choosing to face discomfort with honesty and ritual. They walk burned ground and frozen hills not because they seek suffering, but because they know suffering walks with them anyway. The trail simply gives it a shape.
Each step is a spark. Each breath is a thaw. And somewhere between fire and frost, a woman meets herself again.
Leonardo e Raquel Dias are a couple passionate about travel, exploring the world together and sharing their experiences. Leonardo is a photographer and food enthusiast, while Raquel is a writer fascinated by history and culture. Through their blog, they inspire other couples over 50 to embark on their own adventures.