What a trip!

(Dec 14, 2012)

I crept out of the room at 6:30am and headed to the central plaza to the Andean Summit tour agency to pack my bag and head off to the base of Vallanaraju to start my hike. After a bumpy 2 hour ride Mickey, my hiking mate, Edwin, our guide, and I arrived at the base of Vallanaraju, 4,200 above sea level.

When we got off the bus and collected our stuffed and heavy bags, I couldn’t exactly tell where the hiking path was. Edwin began to lead us up a steep embankment that just wouldn’t quit. Mickey, clearly a stronger hiker than I, took off ahead, stopping every once-in-a-while to track our progress below. We climbed up and up and up what must have been 60° slopes by way of short switchbacks that offered little relief.

My slow and steady hiking tactics (with 1 minute breaks every 5 minutes!) seemed to work and I by about 1.5 hours in Mickey and I were climbing up the scattered moraine together, slowly but surely. We arrived at what would be our campsite, 4,900m above sea level, after hiking for 2 hours (rather than the suggested 3 – I guess I’m not that slow!) and started to unpack our gear. Tents, sleeping bags, rain gear, snow gear, ice gear all lay in piles around the campsite. Edwin started a fire and we drank some of the coca tea that I had brought and ate cheese sandwiches and cookies as we became enveloped by roiling fog.

With the tell-tale sound of ‘clang… clang… clang.clang.clang’ we dashed into our readied tent just as hail began to pour around us. We stayed huddled in our tent for 3 hours until the snow and hail had stopped and we could peer out at our newly painted landscape. Edwin jumped out to start cooking dinner and I feebly tried to venture out to help him, but scurried back to the warmth of the tent within minutes. Mickey was trying to ward off the incipient effects of altitude sickness so we kept Edwin company with our heads poked out of the tent (and our toes firmly ensconced in our sleeping bags), passing him cooking equipment as needed.

By 5pm the sun was beginning to set and we all curled up in the tent to read and doze off in preparation for our 1am wake-up. Tossing and turning all night, we found out in the morning that our sleep had likely been prevented by the altitude. We were in for quite a day. Luckily, however, our lack of sleep the night before made our wake-up call more manageable and when the clock struck 1am, I sprang up, tossed on my extra socks, Gore-Tex pants, snow boots, my shirt, an extra shirt, fleece, water resistant shell, waterproof gloves, safety harness, and helmet, and picked up my axe. All ready to go!

We started the hike by stomping our way up slick and icy boulders that lead to the glacier face. We donned crampons to grip in the snow and gators to keep us dry and dug our way in to the glacier wall after a 2 minutes crash course in ice climbing (kick your crampons into the wall as hard as you can and reach up and anchor your icepick above for extra support. Repeat for six hours).

We trudged through the freshly lain snow in the dark for hours. I was the last on the safety line, which gave me the added benefit of extra compacted footholds as I stepped in Edwin and Mickey’s footprints and warning of upcoming deep spots that caused Edwin and Mickey to sink into snow up to their waist.

As we reached higher up the mountain we found ourselves surrounded by ominous chasms that appeared as gaping mouths (with icicle fangs!) leading deep into the mountain. We did everything we could to avoid these perils and, by 6:30am we could see our destination: the peak.

By this point, the mixture of strenuous effort, limited sleep the night before, and low levels of oxygen due to the altitude had Mickey and I exhausted. We had dashed across bridges of ice and snow, scaled ice walls, and side stepped chasms. As we neared the peak it became clear that the normal route had become nearly impassible due to recent snowfalls. Mickey decided to wait and take photos as Edwin and I ventured onwards towards the peak.

This final haul turned out to be the most challenging of the trek, as we dodged massive icicles, climbed over an ice wall overlooking a 1,000m drop, and shimmied up 60° inclines on our way to the top. We reached the peak at 5,686m at 7:30, enjoying the view before retracing our steps and doing the entire death-defying climb backwards.

I couldn’t quite believe that I had made it back safely, without any slips or falters. From an endurance standpoint, I was certainly proud that I had reached the top and that my hands and feet had cooperated in keeping me safe. However, from a common-sense standpoint I was disappointed that I had allowed myself to continue on such a dangerous venture despite my recognition of the risks involved.

All in all I enjoyed the experience, climbing through ice and snow, cemented in by metal teeth at my hands and feet. But don’t worry, dear family members, you won’t catch me taking that kind of risk again – no more ice climbing a thousand meters up. I’ll stay closer to the ground!