Ushuaia – Day 4: The Emerald Lake
USHUAIA
Day 4: The Emerald Lake
March 04, 2023
The more I hiked and trekked in Ushuaia, the more I fell in love with its nature and with trekking – especially the doing-it-on-my-own part. I’d had two successful treks (save for the getting-lost-for-an-hour-on-the-mountainside bit), and I couldn’t wait for more. And more I had waiting in store for me – this time round, Laguna Esmeralda; one of Ushuaia’s most popular hikes.
While I’d been told the lagoons on the El Caminante trail are far better and less touristic – something that would usually pique my interest more than the popular counterpart – I chose the shorter hike given my soreness after two days of trekking and, frankly, after spending ages sitting idly by enjoying beaches and hammocks. Plus, I swore to myself I’d come back to Ushuaia one day, considering how much I loved this damn place – so I’d have plenty of time to do that then. And being so inspired by Margaux’s story, I’d make a camping trip out of it.
So yeah, for now it’d be this short nine-kilometre hike. I booked transport with the hostel and, with the driver being over an hour and a half late, I found myself with just three and a half hours to do the whole thing before the return trip. The trail info boards recommend around five hours to finish it, but most people do it in about four – meaning I didn’t have much time to waste.
Boardwalks, Bogs, and Beating the Crowds
The trail started off with the typical Ushuaian landscape of green shrubs and peat bogs, backed by trees and glorious mountains – a view that, by now, I’d started to get used to and was already pre-emptively missing, not knowing how on earth I’d survive without sights like this on a daily basis.
After a few minutes, I reached a boardwalk crossing a huge area of peat bog that would otherwise have been completely inaccessible. Speeding forwards, I tried to overtake the multitude of hikers who seemed to be taking their sweet time, knowing I’d rather enjoy the view at the end and spend some time there. Plus, by that point, I’d started to avoid the company of others like the plague. I’d distance myself as much as I humanly could and, whenever I saw someone ahead of me, I’d do my best to outrun them.
Although my rushing was mostly due to the time crunch I was in, it felt very much like a competition – one I seemed to be winning. Not to humblebrag (mostly cause this is plain bragging), but as I raced on, most people on the trail seemed to be eating my dust. It was funny to think I could manage that despite not being in the best shape. Everyone else seemed to have elegant moves and shiny equipment, while I clumsily slipped down slopes and scrambled uphill with my tongue out – but somehow, I was leading the pack.
That said, I knew full well they were just trying to enjoy their hike, that they probably didn’t have to rush, and that the trail was easy and well-maintained. For the record, I do realise I still sound like an obnoxious jackass, so to set the record straight, I did find myself on my arse a couple of times the second I lost focus and forgot to watch where I was stepping. Luckily enough, years of falling have taught me how to fall backwards, preventing me from seriously injuring myself or, worse still, tumbling down the mountainside to my inevitable demise.
As I walked and meditated on my progress, I followed a stream of electric-blue water as it made its way down from what I assumed to be the promised land, the views becoming more surreal the further I went. Along the way, I found the best and worst of friends in the trees – branches to hold onto during the slippery, muddy parts, and cursed roots that promised a tumble or two. And then, concerning my number one enemy, uphills, I remembered every single one, excited at the prospect of exacting my revenge on the way down as I zipped down them effortlessly (my one and only strength).
Laguna Esmeralda
After that, the forest cleared and gave way to another open area covered in more peat bogs. I hopped, stepped, and jumped from one rock to another, trying to keep the mud where it belongs and off my beloved Blister. I can’t say that was a total success, because multiple times I ended up at an impasse – completely surrounded by mud and having to step into it, begrudgingly admitting defeat. But that didn’t stop me from reaching my goal as fast as I could. And so I kept it up and, after an hour or so in total, I was finally there.
Despite being named after its emerald colour, Laguna Esmeralda often looks more turquoise or aquamarine, standing out against the leafy greens and icy white peaks of the mountains surrounding it. That colour is generally attributed to fine glacial sediments in the water coming from the Ojo del Albino glacier system, which scatter light and give the lagoon its unreal hue.
Though it’s a gorgeous place, I had a hard time appreciating it as much as I would have if it weren’t for the crowd on its banks. The solemn silence I’d come to expect from spots like this was broken by laughter, screaming, and shouting, with picnics and photo shoots taking place all around.
Seeing that, I hurried away from the main viewpoint and crossed over the beaver dam on the surreal-looking river to walk along the lagoon’s edge – far, far away from the people. When I reached the opposite side, I was glad to see the crowd had disappeared from view and that the peace and tranquillity I craved were finally within reach. At last, I could sit down – on one solitary rock surrounded by bog – and enjoy my apples (it seemed they’d become a staple for me) and a cigarette (was and still is a nasty habit), accompanied by majestic Magellanic geese and this one super cool Patagoniann caracara.
Even though I didn’t have much time to just be, I still feel like I made the most of it. And so, I practically ran all the way back, stopping only for the now-routine riverside clean-up, making great time and arriving at the parking lot just in time to catch the bus back.
Knowing I’d have an extra morning dedicated to the city itself the following day, I took my sweet time and wandered the streets aimlessly until it was time for check-out. Then I had to lug all my luggage around again and check into a different place – a fancy four-star hotel in preparation for my next big adventure.