At the heart of the Andes, it is the end of autumn.
From the glaciers of South Patagonia to the summits of Bolivia I go back in time as to avoid the snow.
Calm still reigns over the plains where only the wind, stripping the trees and the rock, disturbs the silence.
An icy calm preceding the storm, we are well aware that we must leave before the winter breaks.
Yet one takes to dream of height. The Fitz Roy calls us, it is not too late ..
Tomorrow, I promise to take the road to the north.
From the glaciers of South Patagonia to the summits of Bolivia I go back in time as to avoid the snow.
Calm still reigns over the plains where only the wind, stripping the trees and the rock, disturbs the silence.
An icy calm preceding the storm, we are well aware that we must leave before the winter breaks.
Yet one takes to dream of height. The Fitz Roy calls us, it is not too late ..
Tomorrow, I promise to take the road to the north.
Clément Dautrey
