I Trekked a Wonderful Hike in Patagonia and This is the Best Gear for It
At night, even the stars were different.
I’d flown some 12,000 kilometres southeast from Vancouver, through five time zones and two seasons, to arrive at 51 degrees south: Puerto Natales, Patagonia, Chile. A town at the edge of the world and, for me, unfamiliar territory.
Once a quiet fishing village, Puerto Natales is now known more for Gore-Tex and trekking poles than Chilean sea bass. It’s the jumping off point for hiking to Torres del Paine, one of the most popular routes in Patagonia. I’d get the chance to see those iconic massifs at the end of my time here. But on this trip, my farthest foray south and first time in Chile, I joined the inaugural Fjällräven Classic Chile to trek four days and 73 kilometres across a never-before trod route, snaking through private land owned by the same gaucho family for more than a century. Everything I needed was to be carried on my back or worn on my body. The days to come promised panoramic views, international camaraderie, steep peaks, lush valleys and about 3,500 metres of total elevation gain.
I needed to ensure the gear and apparel I used was up to snuff. Any trekker knows if your feet are blistered, or your body soaked, or your night’s sleep terrible… well, the rest of the trip will follow. An added complication was that I had never been to this region before—an area known for unpredictable weather and wild temperature swings.
So, what worked?
Hanwag Tatra II GTX Wide
($470; hanwag.com)
With these hardy nubuck leather boots, I did what one should never do. I took them right from the shoebox to the trail. No break-in. No test period. I just slipped them on and hiked 73 kilometres. And guess what? No blisters. No hotspots. No twists, trips, slips or sprains. Our weather was uncharacteristically dry, but I still managed to find enough mud to test the Gore-Tex. The Vibram sole kept me planted and even though they tipped the scales at just under two kilograms (size 12), they never felt like clodhoppers. Pretty much the perfect trekking boot.
For camp, I recommend a comfy kick to give your dogs a rest—the Crocs Classic Clog ($50) were a delight at day’s end.
CEP Hiking Merino Socks
($80; cepsports.ca)
Great boots are nothing without great socks. I packed a fresh pair for every day, including a pair from Hanwag and from Lululemon, but the best were my CEP compression socks. Yeah, the price tag is a bit staggering, but the compression weave, padded zones and added stabilization contributed my endurance and the success of my trek and over those 20-plus-kilometre days.
Bracelayer KXV 7/8 Knee Support Compression Pants
($95; bracelayer.ca)
I may have still crossed the finish line without this supportive and stabilizing base layer—but it would have taken a lot more Ibuprofen. Between the 16.5-kilogram backpack, to the grinding ascents, to the steep and lengthy descents… my knees took a pounding. Bracelayer’s unique base layers have built in knee- and hip-stabilization—offering much more support than your classic knee brace can offer. Plus, they’re anti-microbial, so I wore one pair over four days without being gross.
Fjällräven Keb Fleece Hoodie
($250; fjallraven.com)
This was the Fjällräven Classic Chile—so as you can imagine, there was more than enough Fjällräven gear to go around. (Although it should be noted that participants bring their own stuff. It’s brand-agnostic that way.) But I was in gear-test mode—so they gave me gear to test.
The Keb Fleece Hoodie stood out. I wore it every day. I even slept in it most nights; it was that comfy. Made of recycled polyester and traceable wool, with G-1000 on the shoulders to shed raindrops, its flat-knitted exterior is unlike the fluffy Polar Fleece you may already own. Smooth, fitted and low-friction, it’s sleek enough for everyday wear but technical enough to the toughest treks. (I’m actually wearing it right now.)
Fjällräven Keb Trousers
($275; fjallraven.com)
While a lot of North Americans associate Swedish brand Fjällräven primarily with a popular kids’ backpack—the Kanken—the company’s core purpose is focussed on multi-day trekking. To prove it, they built the world’s best trekking pants. Seriously. These burly trousers are made with some 140 individual pieces of material—with brush-bashing G-1000 on the fronts, lighter stretch panels where you need them, snap and zipper pockets, vents, pockets to add kneepads (canoeists take note) and they did it all without using any harmful PFAS. But what really sets these pants apart is how darn good they look—on any body.
Fjällräven Keb 52
($375; fjallraven.com)
I’ll admit to being a little uneasy about carrying this 52-litre pack. At 2.26 kilograms, it’s fully one kilogram heavier than my Sierra Designs 40/60-litre pack, which I had left at home. I was trying to get under 15 kilos total weight, and this wood-frame unit built with 400D polyamide and G-1000 wasn’t going to help with my goal. But it packed and wore very well. Loads of micro-adjustments and thoughtful pocket arrangements meant I was able to bring everything I needed. And although I tipped the scales at 16.5-kilograms fully packed, heck, I still made it through the trek. Maybe going ultralight isn’t all it’s cracked up to be?
Fjällräven Expedition Lat Hoodie
($215; fjallraven.com)
Another part of my kit that saw daily wear, this light puffy kept the Patagonian chill at bay right down to near freezing-temps at night. Stuffed with 158 grams of 100 percent recycled polyester, and made without PFAS, its snug fit makes a great midlayer—but I mostly wore it as a warming outer, with the fleece underneath. The two-way zipper is surprisingly useful and it even packs into its own pocket.
Hotcore Mantis 2 Tent
($225; hotcoreproducts.com)
Years ago, when I was paring down my gear closet, I had to make the decision between keeping one of two backpacking tents. This one, or a similar one of double the MSRP from a big American brand. I didn’t think twice—the Big Name tent went to donation. I just love my Mantis 2. The external, single-pole frame goes up and down in a snap (well, a few snaps.) The fly has kept the rain at bay for some eight years and counting. It’s light enough at 2.8 kilograms and can sleep two easily—but is luxurious for one. Plus, Hotcore is a Canadian brand!
Cascade Mountain Trekking Poles
($53; costco.ca)
I just call these my “Costco trekking poles.” Collapsible, carbon fibre and with three changeable tips and removable baskets, they’re cheap, lightweight and durable. The cork grip is comfy and the carbide tips grind into the toughest dirt. I’m not usually a trekking-pole-user, but I made an exception for this athletic journey. And for me, these cheapo poles are simply… good enough.
Space-Saving Backpacking Kettle
($32.95; shop.explore-mag.com)
Some in-house promotion? Yep—but only because it’s authentic. Explore has sold this collapsible silicon backpacking kettle for a number of years—and I’ve had one the whole time. Tough as nails, weighing only 400 grams, with a 1.5-litre capacity (which I only ever needed half of), this flat-packing boiler is a backpacker’s must-have.
Grayl Ultrapress
($115; grayl.ca)
If I’m being honest, I can’t actually claim to have used the Ultrapress. Because I’ve had my Grayl filter since 2015, and they don’t make the same exact model anymore. (The Ultrapress is the closest.) They all work the same—think of it like a French press that filters out waterborne nasties instead of coffee grinds. I used it every day in Patagonia, purifying anything from pristine glacier lake water (silt) to slow-running creek water that had visible cow patties next to it (all types of bad stuff). No Imodium required. Here’s to another 10 years!
Other Stuff
Beyond this, I packed the waterproof-breathable Fjällräven Keb Eco-Shell Jacket ($625) and Pants ($520)—but in the most unlikely turn of events, it didn’t rain on us once.
For the transit to and from Patagonia, I fell in love with my Helly Hansen Odin Everdown Hooded Jacket ($413). Cozy, warm and minimalist, it squishes down to the size of a water bottle—meaning I could stash it in my 25-litre carry-on and barely notice it was there.
I’ve carried the same Eagle Creek 120-litre duffle around the globe for the past nine years. They don’t make the exact model anymore, but this one is close, and it easily swallowed all my gear (including the backpack.)
Beyond the above clothing, I only packed fresh undies for every day and Fjällräven’s Bergtagen Thinwool Long Johns ($130) and the Abisko Wool SS ($80) as my everyday wears.
My MSR Pocket Rocket 2 ($68) canister stove is foolproof; a Primus Trailbottle Triton 1.0L ($23) kept me hydrated; and the Fjällräven Vardag Langtradarkeps ($45)—which is how they say “trucker cap” in Swedish, I guess—is the first hat I completely sweated-out and could still wear afterwards. (No stains!)
My sleep system was supposed to simply be my beloved Eddie Bauer Airbender ($800)—it has the right temp rating, at -7 C, and its unique integrated air mat means it’s lighter and more compact than anything else I’ve used. But this once-awesome air-mat failed on me during my pre-trek test. I had to pair my now-limp bag with a borrowed Exped sleeping mat of some kind (didn’t check). The system added more weight and bulk than I planned for… and the whole experience left me, well, deflated. I guess 11 years is all I get from my treasured Airbender.
I had a Silva Smini Fly headlamp ($50), but I tend to use the flashlight on my iPhone more than anything else. To keep it charged, I recommend a 10,000 mAh portable battery pack too. Grab those from Amazon.
What I Ate
Food and the fuel to cook it with—this is paramount for a trip’s success. For fuel, four days of cooking for one person can easily be serviced by one 230-gram canister of isobutane. But how much to eat? Keeping in mind I ate breakfast at the hotel on day one and finished with an outstanding roast lamb sandwich at the trip’s grand finale, I packed the following:
- 10 backpacking meals from Norwegian company Real Outdoor Food. They averaged about 500 calories each. And while offerings like Clipfish Casserole and Kebab Stew were new to me, they were all decent (except the Chocolate Muesli.) I eventually grew tired of them, and skipped the last two on the final day, subsisting only on protein and Mars bars.
- 4 Pure Protein Bars—with 20 grams of protein and 190 calories, these were excellent trail snacks.
- 4 Mars Bars. My all-time favourite trail snack—with 290 calories and two grams of protein.
- 8 Tim Horton’s Instant Double-Double. Since I was a Canadian in South America, and Timmy’s is now owned by a Brazilian company—it felt right.
- 500 grams of dried mango. My second-favourite hiking snack.
- Since it was the Fjällräven Classic, the company conjured some trail magic by surprising us at checkpoints with treats like cheese empanadas, sopaipillas, rhubarb juice, chocolate cake and even a cold beer on night-two.
Making some assumptions for the empanada, sopaipillas and cake—and adding a couple hundred calories for the occasional square of chocolate I took when offered by a trail-mate, as well as the bookended breakfast and lunch—I consumed about 11,500 calories over the four-day trek.
But how many did I burn? This is a topic of much debate, and with many variables, but estimating about seven hours of hiking per day, in moderate terrain, with a 16.5-kilogram pack—I’d be burning about 4,500 to 5,000 calories per day. Which put me at a 6,500 to 8,500 calorie deficient over four days.
I’m a little surprised by this calculation, as I felt satiated, but my wife did say I looked a little a bit thinner upon return. I probably shouldn’t have skipped those last couple of meals. (And I likely consumed an additional 1,000-plus calories at the hotel dinner buffet after the trek was complete.)
Ultimately, the only thing I would have done differently is pack a bag of jube-jubes for dessert every night (add 500 calories and a simple delight.) Or maybe skip the freeze-dried meals entirely and, next time, pack instant oatmeal for breakfast (better than my much-maligned muesli), ramen with pepperoni for lunch (inspiration courtesy of Taiwanese mountain guide, Lupo Wang) and dried tortellini for dinner (one of our Fjällräven companions did this and I was envious).
And I truly hope there is a next time—in any Fjällräven Classic location.
The Fjällräven Classic is an annual series of organized multi-day treks, held in global locations. Fjällräven provides the route, infrastructure and community—you bring your sense of adventure and gear. Attend solo, with your partner or organize a group! Six events will be held in 2025. Tickets sell quickly.
