Nudging my horse into a gentle canter, I breathed deeply as we set off across the Patagonian steppe. A short time earlier, Matías, a traditional baqueano (guide) had led our group up a winding path to a viewpoint of the spires of Torres del Paine. Here the legendary towers rise with an almost mystical presence, seeming less like peaks and more like sentinels. Matías pointed to faint lines etched into the grassland at the base of the towers—route…
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