"No other word will do. For that's what it was. Gravy.... [I]t was all gravy, every minute of it...."- Raymond Carver, "Gravy"

On Thursday, we bounded into the van with a German couple who became increasingly amorous during the day, a Spanish couple who was smart enough to bring binoculars, and Juan, our handsome Che Guevara look-alike guide who convinced me that most Chilean men have got it going on.

I dare say that none in our group tends to enjoy tours from the comfort and warmth of a 12 passenger van, but how could we complain? Every day for two weeks straight prior to our arrival, Torres del Paine had been rainy and windy, but today the sun and sky were brilliant. We could see the tops of the mountains. We were stoked.

"Gravy," I said to myself over and over, thinking of one of my favorite Ray Carver poems, as we rounded every bend. We'd come upon a scene that was just too beautiful even for words and I'd think, "There can't be anything more beautiful on the planet." Then we'd crest another hill--and another, and another--and each scene would be more incredible than the one before it.

Gravy. It was all gravy. Every minute of it....