Snowy peaks and fields of glaciers jut out of the ground about 2000 miles south of Santiago. They offer adventurous hearts a bridge to the end of the world. The Magallanes Region is not for the faint of heart.

About 200,000 residents - of largely Spanish and Croatian descent – brave the harsh winter winds for October’s picturesque payoff. The low-ground ice melts starting in September, opening up a wild landscape of thrilling mountain ranges, lakes of robin’s egg blue and awe-inspiring views of the Pacific shores. The rough terrain doesn’t scare off nearly 100,000 tourists each year, whether their idea of a thrill is navigating between streets lined with colorful, corrugated roofs or shredding the slopes.

Magallanicos know to roll down their sleeves and slather on the sunscreen to avoid the tell-tale scarlet hue of sun-scorched or wind-burnt skin. Since 1986, the hole in the ozone layer has exposed residents to excessive levels of ultraviolet radiation. During the summer, officials hang ropes in sections of Punta Arenas, the urban hub of region, to keep pedestrians from blowing away like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz. The city’s buildings create a unique wind pattern of up to 130 kilometers per hour.

The harsh climate – where the penguins probably outnumber the humans - breeds a resilient people with a can-do mentality. Bright blue and yellow Magallanes flags proudly fly throughout the region. The Magallanicos regard their terrain as uniquely independent.

Countless acres for exploration surround laid-back towns and cities where fishers, mine workers, sheep farmers, ship repairmen, the Chilean air force, scientists, travelers and more hear the call of the wild.

Karina Jerez, a Puerto Natales resident, wrote, “I enjoy the wind, fresh air, the yellow that pours over the plains, the prevailing kindness and warm people from these cold lands, the beautiful scenery, and the great love people have for Magallanes.” 

The insular area boasts a rich history. Although a treacherous trek from Santiago, Cape Horn, the northern boundary of the Drake Passage, served as a stopping point for sailing ships carrying worldly trades. The dangerous stormy waters and bobbing icebergs offshore claimed the lives of many seafarers, some charging toward California’s gold rush. Years after the opening of the Panama Canal in 1914 shortened the export route, yachts began venturing down for sport. Cape Horn offers some of the world’s most challenging waters to navigate. 

For aggressive athletes, Magallanes hosts the ‘race to the end of the world’ or the Patagonian Expedition Race each year for 10 days in the Patagonian wilderness. Relying solely on their map and compass, teams of competitors sea kayak, mountain bike and work with ropes to navigate through unexplored regions in what is considered the toughest endurance race in the world.

Squinting on the edge of Cape Horn, you may spot Chile’s slice of Antarctica sitting on the horizon. There are only two groups of citizens daring enough to take up residence in icy Antarctica. One of them, Villa Las Estrellas, belongs to the Maganalles Region. The village has a hospital, a school, a bank, a church and about 80 to 150 residents, more in the chilly summer than in the dead-cold winter. Chile’s Eduardo Frei Montalva Meteorological Center, research centers, and other shelters also stand on the white continent. Thousands of world-class scientists flock to Magallanes to research as yet undiscovered micro-organisms in the southernmost depths of the planet.

Having what it takes to survive at the bottom of the world shapes the Magallanes people.

“Life here is not easy, the weather reminds you every day you're alive. Everything costs more here….The cold can crush any athlete who wants to brave outdoor exercise. The people are good. You can talk to them without knowing them. They are  kind. Here you can leave your bike outside without fear that you steal it. The landscapes and magic will enchant anyone,” wrote Jerez.