"Adventure is just discomfort fondly remembered."
So I was reminded by one of my companions, partway up the great volcano, El Misti. We were a couple hours into our journey, and I was excited for the challenge, but already starting to feel the burn. Since arriving, I had longed to climb Arequipa's massive sentinel, and was enticed by stories of the relative ease for its size (note - be wary of terms like "relative"). Through our institute, we found a great guide - Mickey, who works with National Geographic and hikes the mountain a couple times a week. One of the guys in our group was from Canada and had spent a year hiking the Himalayas, so he was easily the most experienced non-guide. There were four of us plus Mickey, and we were hiking along side another group which included a couple from Denmark and four Swiss, plus two more guides. Arequipa lies at about 7,000 ft above sea level, and we started hiking at about 10,500. Our goal for the first day was to make "base" camp, which lies at around 15,000 ft. The following morning we would head for the summit, an astounding 19,101 ft.
So I was reminded by one of my companions, partway up the great volcano, El Misti. We were a couple hours into our journey, and I was excited for the challenge, but already starting to feel the burn. Since arriving, I had longed to climb Arequipa's massive sentinel, and was enticed by stories of the relative ease for its size (note - be wary of terms like "relative"). Through our institute, we found a great guide - Mickey, who works with National Geographic and hikes the mountain a couple times a week. One of the guys in our group was from Canada and had spent a year hiking the Himalayas, so he was easily the most experienced non-guide. There were four of us plus Mickey, and we were hiking along side another group which included a couple from Denmark and four Swiss, plus two more guides. Arequipa lies at about 7,000 ft above sea level, and we started hiking at about 10,500. Our goal for the first day was to make "base" camp, which lies at around 15,000 ft. The following morning we would head for the summit, an astounding 19,101 ft.
The first part had been slow but very interesting, with high desert terrain around - think Arizona without the cactus. As we continued, we got up on to a ridge and started hiking up, and the pain began. I could feel my legs beginning to cramp, and I longed for rest. After another hour or so it was really getting harder for me. We had to stop more often, mostly for my sake, as the other folks weren't having much trouble. No switchbacks here, just straight up the mountain. I kept drinking and snacking all the way up, so altitude was not really a problem; it was just my legs. After about 4 hours I knew I was really in trouble. My legs were seriously cramped and each step was very difficult. This was so much harder than I had anticipated! Our last hour was into different terrain - barren, lots of sand and rocks - think Frodo and Sam in Return of the King. It might have gone smoothly, but for all the stops to rest and massage my aching quads (maybe not the best remedy). By that point every step was agony, literally every muscle in my legs was completely locked up, and I was wondering if I was going to make it. The last 200 yards I had to drop my backpack, which Mickey graciously retrieved. I literally stumbled into base camp, on the top of a ridge, as the winds picked up. Freezing, exhausted and ready for nothing, I helped put the tents up in gale-force winds just in time for a rain/snow storm. It was brutal, and because we couldn't get the rain flap properly secured to the nearby rocks, the inside of the tent started to get wet. I called Laura with our guide's last bit of cell phone battery, to say that we were "okay". The phone cut off just as I told her that we were in a big storm and I barely made it up, which didn't exactly set her at ease. Sitting there miserably, as tired as I've ever been, I started to wonder who signed me up for this.
Eventually the rain and wind abated and we all joined together for dinner - spaghetti with tuna. It was a great time talking with the other climbers, admiring the breathtaking scenery, and snapping endless pictures of a near-perfect sunset. After dark we made a fire and listened to the guides tell Incan mountain legends. It wasn't a particularly restful night, as the wind picked back up around 9:00, and we had to get up to start the next day's hike around 2am.
But I had already made my decision. I would not join the rest of the group in climbing to the summit. The first leg had almost had done me in, and the second part was longer, steeper, and in thinner air. Even if my legs were to miraculously loosen up and I were to somehow barely make it to the top, it would be a bad decision. At that altitude, the lack of oxygen can be disorienting, and with weak legs and steep precipices all around, it was all more risk than I was willing to take with my family in mind, just to say I got to the top. So I stayed, and spent the morning doing what I enjoy most about the mountains anyway - relaxing and enjoying the Lord's beautiful creation all around. The views were unforgettable and I did not regret my decision. Those who went said it was twice as hard as the first day, and several of them did not make it all the way before turning back. When everyone returned around midday, we packed up the camp and headed down. Because of the sandy volcanic landscape, we could run and slide most of the way, and it was actually lots of fun.
In retrospect, considering that my only recent hiking experience was in the beautiful but tiny Appalachians, trying a 19,000 ft peak like this may have been overly ambitious. Still, making it to our base camp, which is higher than anything in the lower 48 states and almost anything in Europe, is thrilling enough, and I am glad for my uncomfortable adventure on El Misti!
On the way up
At base camp
Incredible sunset!
Arequipa by night
With Mickey, our guide
On the way down
1 comment:
Loved the photos from El Misti and congratulate you on good judgment for staying put with cramping legs. It was still a real mountaintop experience. Love to all of you.
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