Chilean Patagonia Report: Alaska Style Terrain in the Heart of Patagonia

Report from September 2, 2026

It snowed the perfect amount on Tuesday night.

Not too much, which can make avalanche conditions sketchy.

Not too little.

Just enough to keep you off the bottom.

After having experienced the majesty of the mini AK zone that Tyler dragged us into 2 days prior, we knew we had to go directly back there.

I was scared…

I don’t know this zone, it snowed, maybe a lot, and I didn’t know what the wind had done.

Just getting to the mini AK spot exposes you to some big avalanche terrain.

Making the call to go there felt aggressive, but right…

We approached it slowly, evaluating every step.

Everything felt good.

It hadn’t snowed too much.

2 inches here, 4 inches there, 6 inches at the most anywhere that we walked.

We scaled the ridge quickly and were sitting on top after 1 hour and 59 minutes.

The light was nowhere near hitting our mini Alaska zone, so we had a long lunch and discussed our options.

I thought about skiing a peppery, chutey area to our north, but backed off, worried that the new snow had just buried some rock that could destroy our skis or worse…

After lunch, the Alaska zone was still drenched in shadow…

I pivoted again and we went for the random zone we named Pepper Skip.

I let Skip go first.

I shouldn’t have…

The snow was beautiful and the line went on forever.

1,100 vertical feet of pure joy.

Skip crushed it and was screaming at me on the radio.

I dropped and found a nice air but was too scared to hit right off the top blind, so I hit to the side and it was still a hoot.

I drained it down to the treeline and Skip, where I fully understood Skip’s radio screams.

“If that’s all we get today, that’s a win.”

We ate, drank, regained our calm, and headed back up the ridgeline.

Once on top, it was game time.

The snow exploded off my skis, snuck into the crevasses of my jacket, and stuffed my confidence full of party and bullshit.

I felt electric.

Every move felt right, the snow did what I wanted it to, and the airs I hit felt smooth to the touch.

I leaned onto the throttle and heard the engine hum.

It’s a rare day when you are in terrain you dream of, the snow is good, the light is right, and everything you see coming at you makes sense.

I felt like a kid in an empty skate park after having just inhaled a packet of Nerds.

Everything looked fun and made for me.

It was fleeting, but it was a moment I’ll never forget and I hope to get there again someday.

Skip decided to ski right next to my line but while he was descending, I called him on the radio.

“I’ve got a new line for you buddy, it’s rad, and all you have to do is follow the light.”

We went for it and it was the line of the trip.

We gathered up at the bottom, rejoiced, hooted, told stories, bonded, and smiled.

There’s nothing quite like pushing it in the mountains, getting away with it, and doing it with your friends.

Gracias, Chile!

Photos