The finale of my climbing antics on Cotopaxi...
The night before we set off for the volcano, I met my partner for Cotopaxi at the hosteria, he was a Colombian called Luis. I, unlike Luis had been acclimatising for a few days, so when the first words out of Luis`s mouth, were "I apologise now, if we do not make it to the top", I was understandably annoyed, as if my partner has to come down half way, so do I. After calling him several names under my breath (that I dare not write here) I decided unreserved optimism was called for and over the next day or so, I kept telling Luis how we would succeed with flying colours and drink his whiskey on the summit.
The night before we set off for the volcano, I met my partner for Cotopaxi at the hosteria, he was a Colombian called Luis. I, unlike Luis had been acclimatising for a few days, so when the first words out of Luis`s mouth, were "I apologise now, if we do not make it to the top", I was understandably annoyed, as if my partner has to come down half way, so do I. After calling him several names under my breath (that I dare not write here) I decided unreserved optimism was called for and over the next day or so, I kept telling Luis how we would succeed with flying colours and drink his whiskey on the summit.
My optimism got a boost when I learnt that we would be joined by two more people (a Swiss couple), and therefore a second guide as there was a maximum of two people per guide. My chances of making it had just gone up. We set off late morning, all fully equipped with ice axes, crampons and enough layers to happily cook an Eskimo for the refugio at 4800m. The refugio was where we would have our afternoon and evening meals, before going to bed at 6pm to wake up at 12am to start climbing at 1am.
After only an hours sleep it was midnight, and time to get going. After getting up in unbelievable cold we breakfasted, all discussed our problems ranging from the lack of sleep to headaches and nausea. The latter two affecting the Swedes, the thought of spending some time at altitude before hand, had clearly passed these guys by. All suited and spiked up with crampons we hit the slopes under an almost full moon and a near-tropical minus 10 degrees. Apparently its only going to get colder. Nice.
Cotopaxi is the world´s largest active volcano and is over 400m higher than the Everest Base Camp at 5911m and to make it even more impressive by converting it into feet, makes it about 19,400 feet. So in short we had our work cut out and before we'd even got a 100m higher the Swedish girl had already been sick twice. All was looking ominous, but altitude does strange things, as after that incident both Swedes were fine, and it was Luis, with his giant sized nose that I had to be wary of. The size of his nose wasn't particularly relevant to the situation, but it was rather excessive, if he'd dressed up as Rudolph, he'd have put Heathrow's air traffic control centre out of a job.
The site of a few dozen people climbing in the snow under just moonlight in the silly hours of the morning is a strange site, and one I will never forget. At this altitude and so close to the equator, by the time the sun is up, we would be at one of the closest points on earth to the sun (given the Earth is pear-shaped). The fierce sun would make the glacier unstable, hence climbing in the chilly small hours. When we hit the glacier, it was time to rope ourselves together, but I didn't see the point as if Luis slipped he'd only do it in super slow motion like everything else he did, like climbing upward.
After 3 hours of stopping every 5 minutes for Luis to re stretch his legs, I was convinced the next stop would be the end of things and Luis would have to bail (forcing me to as well). The Swedes and their guide had already gone ahead, but with an hour to go, we came in sight of them, and my guide sent me to join them. I was so elated I virtually legged it up the next section and tired myself out in the process. Stomping up hill quickly at 5,700m is not a great idea! Finally on the last leg, we were continually thwarted by fake-summit after fake-summit. A hundred metres from the top, the altitude was really getting to me with a thumping headache and dizziness and after we had to use our ice axes on one rather steep section, I was told, that this last section, was in fact the last bit.
Most people I've met who've climbed Cotopaxi talk of how overwhelmed with happiness and usually have a bit of cry when they reach the summit. I on the hand was quite frankly relieved I didn't have any further to go. I was completely spent. The last few hundred meters had been a killer and I think my words upon reaching the top were fairly unprintable. The views were spectacular, we'd arrived just after sunrise and there were eerie wisps of cloud floating over the rather smelly crater. The views were spectacular but I was so exhausted it was in a way quite hard to appreciate it, let alone want to take any photos. Thankfully, I did.
Shockingly after only being on the summit for 5 minutes, I saw Luis make it up. I was genuinely surprised, but extremely happy. I was glad I'd prepared for a few days before hand, as goodness knows how I would have coped, as the others very nearly did not!
Alas, what goes up must go down, and after 3 hours of plodding back downhill we were back in the refugio. I had to go back up the slope from the refugio at one point to retrieve my ice axe which slid about a km down hill earlier. This doesn't sound like much, but after being told I'd be charged $100 for a new one, I summoned the strength to go out hunting for it. I had never been so tired my life. Ever. Fact. Much to the guides' surprise I found the bastard ice axe about 500m from the refugio. In this instance, swearing is absolutely necessary, my legs were officially jelly and I had nothing more to give, I'd just climbed a beast of hill, saved a hundred bucks and was bloody proud of myself. Hell yeah!
Photos in the usual place
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