Acatenango Saga (Part 1)
I’m not sure where to start. Maybe with Eddie’s omniscient phrase, “Don’t worry, the higher up we are, the less mud there is to fall on us.”
(photos by Eddie Thornton - but w/o any editing)
So, the short story is that I hiked a dormant volcano over the weekend. It was an overnight hike of Acatenango, a 13,040 ft (3976 m) summit, a mere 45 minute drive from my home here in Antigua. With Pacaya blown to hell, the next best thing was the Aca hike. It was a bit more daunting, but since not as many people had hiked it, I didn’t have as much information about the actual climb. Plus, I’d done Pacaya a handful of times and if you’ve climbed one volcano, how hard can the next one be, right?
Starting as early as last week, I’d heard people talking about the Aca hike. Lance and Will had already done a day summit and admitted it was “the hardest thing they’d ever done,” but I was thinking about doing it over a two day stretch. Eddie was considering the same thing, so we decided to do a weekend hike. A few days later, over coffee break, Ashley told me she and her roomies were considering, so we all joined forces. Alicia’s boyfriend Lee was coming in town that weekend, so she made plans for them to climb. And late Thursday afternoon, Lexie decided that she couldn’t be left out of the fun, and turned in her deposit as well.
Talking with Renso (the Old Town Outfitter guide) was enlightening about logistics but also rather dismissive about difficulty. He had climbed the volcano a number of times and its obstacles were no longer problems for him. Friday morning, my teacher and I were talking about the coming weekend and during our conversation, I started to realize just how daunting the Aca climb was going to be. A base elevation of 9,300 ft with a five hour hike up to the first summit at (11,400) and then a second summit of 13,500. I realized that Renso’s comments about the zero degree nights might be something to pay attention to. So, Friday morning my teacher and I took half of our class time and went to the market to buy some cold weather gear for me. Eddie and I had planned to go after class, but I do better when I’m shopping alone (or with someone who knows where they are going). Anyway, we went straight into the market and my teacher was a good guide. I bought a great ribbed navy pullover from Gap, and a white fleece jacket, gloves, and a hat, all for under $10. Later that afternoon, Eddie, Lexie and I all went back to the market. They needed cold weather gear, and I was on an avocado hunt. We found all of our things, and then met up later to do a bag swap with Will. (Lexie didn’t have a backpack, so Eddie loaned her his and he took Will’s Osprey. I think Eddie got the best deal, because Will’s loan came with a rainshell, a nice pillow, a rain jacket and a camelback. - Eddie later gave Lexie and I the pillow, but more on that later.) After a toast of German beer at the German pub, I called it a night and pretended to get some sleep for the next day.
For some reason, sleepless nights happen to me every now and again. In Annapolis I experienced a couple of months of insomnia, and after that torture, I get overly anxious whenever I cannot fall asleep. Friday night was one of those nights. Whatever the case, I finally got up out of bed at 6am to pack and meet the guys at BagelBarn for a high carb breakfast. Slight panic attack when I got there at 7:15, thinking it was 7:55, since I read the two (wrong) clocks, misunderstood the barista, and asked the only traveler in the place without a watch what time it was. I think I was nervous, like right before an international flight to a country not before visited.
Still, all’s well that begins well, or whatever, and we all arrived fairly timely to Old Town for our trek up to Acatenango. Our guides were David and Ricardo, and we had two porters who were meeting us at the base to help carry tents. (I lucked out since Lexie decided to split a porter fee with Katie, and Lex and I were sharing a tent.) I’m not sure how much my pack weighed, but with clothes, food, sleeping bag and mat (and not the cool lightweight kind), toiletries, flashlight, camera, chocolate, avocados and 6 liters of water, it Was Not light.
Our drive to the base was not inauspicious, and perhaps we should’ve taken a clue from the mudslide on the mountain and the supposed 2 hour wait time to get through. The landslide on the road caused a few people in our group some apprehension about the coming climb and the state of the trail. There was brief discussion as to whether we should attempt this at all, but around that time Ricardo talked to the road cleaners, and they kindly moved the CAT to the side so that we could drive over the mud. I think Ricardo drove over some guys tools though, because there was a lot of yelling, and then laughter.
We started the climb at 10am and it was *immediately* apparent to my heart and lungs about our altitude. I hadn’t walked more than twenty feet before I knew this was probably the second hardest hike I’d ever done (first being my time in the Pyrenees). I was so worried about the lack of oxygen and had almost convinced myself that if I just didn’t think about it, I would get by alright. Not the case. When you aren’t used to altitude and you begin having trouble at 9,000 ft, well...
Still, my difficulty was nothing compared to Lexie. She, Katie, and I took up the sluggers at the end with Ricardo. I was enjoying the scenery, but having little oxygen for my lungs was making my heart work so hard that I could scarcely speak. Drinking water often was necessary, but you had to stop and catch your breath before it was possible to swallow. Anyway, like I said, that first 20 minutes was rough. But, it just got worse.
I ended up breaking off from the end and hiking a little faster to get to the front group. When I arrived, I sat for moment to catch my breath, take some photos and admire the beautiful countryside around me. All of the hills were patch-worked with squares of corn and carrots and onions. The effect was breathtaking, but at the same time I couldn’t help but think that it was precisely this shallow root farming that was causing a lot of the mudslides. Still, the people must eat and the world must receive their coffee, so the volcanic farming continues.
When Lexie arrived at our little rest spot, it was apparent that she was having a harder time than me with the elevation. Our porter, Jeremy, had already taken her water, and our guide Ricardo took the food. I decided to carry her big green pack in front of me so that she could just focus on the climb. (I think a lot of people thought I was an idiot at first, but Giles did this for me back in the Pyrenees and I’ve never forgotten it. Thanks Giles!) So, we commenced the next leg of Acatenango, the lead group with Eddie and Ashley and David, forging on like Olympians with no need for pacing. Mid-way was Alicia, Lee and Jeremy. And bringing up the rear... yep. Hi!
The second hour of climbing (because at this point it was not hiking) was brutal. I couldn’t see the path in front of me because of the green monster, so Lexie walked ahead of me and I followed her feet. She paused often if she thought I needed a break and made sure we drank a lot of water. At some point, the path became a foot of vertical for every foot of horizontal, and I nearly passed out. I don’t remember very much from this walk, but I got to see it the next day when we came back down.
Finally, we rounded a corner and I saw the group resting against some trees and a 3-way trail shed. They were about 20 yards away, and Ashley yelled down at me, “Oh no! Miriam! I’m so sorry we just left you to carry that pack!” heh. I wasn’t sure what to say, but since I could barely breathe, all I did was wave her away and fall into a heap when I got there. (Jes probably knows my expression at this point. Tired, hungry, thirsty, and just Not In the Mood.) Happily someone poured some candied peanuts in my hands and I think my mood changed instantly. It’s amazing how quickly my heart and lungs recovered when I could just stand still for a moment. But then again, how quickly my condition deteriorated once moving again.
Ashley took the pack next and we began hour three of the climb. This part was more enjoyable for me. Maybe because I’d shouldered that green bag for long enough to destroy all sense of pain in my body, or maybe it was because we had entered the jungle portion of our Aca hike. This part of the climb was difficult as well, but the scenery was strange and new and exciting. Instead of open spaces of farm, I walked between dripping mossy trees and hanging vines. Ferns were everywhere and our path was mucky volcanic ash. The tree roots made for natural steps and we again climbed nearly 45 degrees.
About this time it started to drizzle. I had draped my raincoat (Marmot!) over the back of my pack and was thankful for its extra large “Small” size so that it fit over the whole pack. At some point though, I thought I was hallucinating because I could hear what sounded like applause. Soon enough, a group of children rounded the corner at my rear and came charging up the path. There were about 8 kids, maybe 6 adults, and they had Guatemala “packs” on and a few blankets tied around their shoulders like capes. One of the men had a transistor radio tied to his pants. They were listening to the England v US game, which is how I learned we were down 1 - 0 to the Brits. We followed for a bit to listen to the commentary. I was hiking with Jeremy at this point and I could tell he wanted to follow the transistor, but much as I wanted to follow the World Cup up Acatenango, some things are just not humanly possible, and hiking at the pace of those children was just not in the cards for me. I fell behind.
At some point our group separated into a small and a large. The Forwards, still Ashley, Eddie and David, were off again, the slackers. Midfielders and Fullbacks fused and we traveled as a unit. The foremost position pausing until s/he saw a midfielder come into view and take a rest, beginning again when the keeper was with the group and could stop for a moment before beginning again. It was like an inchworm of hikers, up Acatenango mountain, bit by bloody bit. (how’s that for a mixed metaphor)
Somewhere along the way we broke the tree line, and the view into the valley was gorgeous for a few moments, but soon the clouds began to settle and we walked in fog and mist for most of the rest of the way. At this point Lee and I were switching the green pack back and forth every ten minutes or so, until I had a hallucinatory stumble and then Lee just took it for the final push. Happily, Eddie appeared out of the mist like some rain god and said he had come back down especially to take that pack. Lee handed it over without a word and then E was off again, like a jackrabbit.
The last twenty minutes of hiking was without pain, probably because I’d moved beyond it, like a zen master. And in fact, the pain was not so much in the actual hike, as it was in the oxygen problems. Somewhere along the way, I think my body just finally acknowledged that it was never going to be allowed to breathe again, and there was acceptance. I was able to enjoy the last tramp through those moorish grasses in silence and wonder. I walked with Lee and Alicia, and none of us said a word for the entire climb. Exhaustion yes, but sometimes climbing through forests makes people quiet, and I was happy to enjoy it with them. We emerged onto the base camp in a fog of drizzle and wind and scorched barren trees. The ground was covered in tufts of moor grass, and there was a loneliness to the place that would have been incredibly unnerving had I been alone.
(to be continued..)
(photos by Eddie Thornton - but w/o any editing)
So, the short story is that I hiked a dormant volcano over the weekend. It was an overnight hike of Acatenango, a 13,040 ft (3976 m) summit, a mere 45 minute drive from my home here in Antigua. With Pacaya blown to hell, the next best thing was the Aca hike. It was a bit more daunting, but since not as many people had hiked it, I didn’t have as much information about the actual climb. Plus, I’d done Pacaya a handful of times and if you’ve climbed one volcano, how hard can the next one be, right?
Starting as early as last week, I’d heard people talking about the Aca hike. Lance and Will had already done a day summit and admitted it was “the hardest thing they’d ever done,” but I was thinking about doing it over a two day stretch. Eddie was considering the same thing, so we decided to do a weekend hike. A few days later, over coffee break, Ashley told me she and her roomies were considering, so we all joined forces. Alicia’s boyfriend Lee was coming in town that weekend, so she made plans for them to climb. And late Thursday afternoon, Lexie decided that she couldn’t be left out of the fun, and turned in her deposit as well.
Talking with Renso (the Old Town Outfitter guide) was enlightening about logistics but also rather dismissive about difficulty. He had climbed the volcano a number of times and its obstacles were no longer problems for him. Friday morning, my teacher and I were talking about the coming weekend and during our conversation, I started to realize just how daunting the Aca climb was going to be. A base elevation of 9,300 ft with a five hour hike up to the first summit at (11,400) and then a second summit of 13,500. I realized that Renso’s comments about the zero degree nights might be something to pay attention to. So, Friday morning my teacher and I took half of our class time and went to the market to buy some cold weather gear for me. Eddie and I had planned to go after class, but I do better when I’m shopping alone (or with someone who knows where they are going). Anyway, we went straight into the market and my teacher was a good guide. I bought a great ribbed navy pullover from Gap, and a white fleece jacket, gloves, and a hat, all for under $10. Later that afternoon, Eddie, Lexie and I all went back to the market. They needed cold weather gear, and I was on an avocado hunt. We found all of our things, and then met up later to do a bag swap with Will. (Lexie didn’t have a backpack, so Eddie loaned her his and he took Will’s Osprey. I think Eddie got the best deal, because Will’s loan came with a rainshell, a nice pillow, a rain jacket and a camelback. - Eddie later gave Lexie and I the pillow, but more on that later.) After a toast of German beer at the German pub, I called it a night and pretended to get some sleep for the next day.
For some reason, sleepless nights happen to me every now and again. In Annapolis I experienced a couple of months of insomnia, and after that torture, I get overly anxious whenever I cannot fall asleep. Friday night was one of those nights. Whatever the case, I finally got up out of bed at 6am to pack and meet the guys at BagelBarn for a high carb breakfast. Slight panic attack when I got there at 7:15, thinking it was 7:55, since I read the two (wrong) clocks, misunderstood the barista, and asked the only traveler in the place without a watch what time it was. I think I was nervous, like right before an international flight to a country not before visited.
Still, all’s well that begins well, or whatever, and we all arrived fairly timely to Old Town for our trek up to Acatenango. Our guides were David and Ricardo, and we had two porters who were meeting us at the base to help carry tents. (I lucked out since Lexie decided to split a porter fee with Katie, and Lex and I were sharing a tent.) I’m not sure how much my pack weighed, but with clothes, food, sleeping bag and mat (and not the cool lightweight kind), toiletries, flashlight, camera, chocolate, avocados and 6 liters of water, it Was Not light.
Our drive to the base was not inauspicious, and perhaps we should’ve taken a clue from the mudslide on the mountain and the supposed 2 hour wait time to get through. The landslide on the road caused a few people in our group some apprehension about the coming climb and the state of the trail. There was brief discussion as to whether we should attempt this at all, but around that time Ricardo talked to the road cleaners, and they kindly moved the CAT to the side so that we could drive over the mud. I think Ricardo drove over some guys tools though, because there was a lot of yelling, and then laughter.
We started the climb at 10am and it was *immediately* apparent to my heart and lungs about our altitude. I hadn’t walked more than twenty feet before I knew this was probably the second hardest hike I’d ever done (first being my time in the Pyrenees). I was so worried about the lack of oxygen and had almost convinced myself that if I just didn’t think about it, I would get by alright. Not the case. When you aren’t used to altitude and you begin having trouble at 9,000 ft, well...
Still, my difficulty was nothing compared to Lexie. She, Katie, and I took up the sluggers at the end with Ricardo. I was enjoying the scenery, but having little oxygen for my lungs was making my heart work so hard that I could scarcely speak. Drinking water often was necessary, but you had to stop and catch your breath before it was possible to swallow. Anyway, like I said, that first 20 minutes was rough. But, it just got worse.
I ended up breaking off from the end and hiking a little faster to get to the front group. When I arrived, I sat for moment to catch my breath, take some photos and admire the beautiful countryside around me. All of the hills were patch-worked with squares of corn and carrots and onions. The effect was breathtaking, but at the same time I couldn’t help but think that it was precisely this shallow root farming that was causing a lot of the mudslides. Still, the people must eat and the world must receive their coffee, so the volcanic farming continues.
When Lexie arrived at our little rest spot, it was apparent that she was having a harder time than me with the elevation. Our porter, Jeremy, had already taken her water, and our guide Ricardo took the food. I decided to carry her big green pack in front of me so that she could just focus on the climb. (I think a lot of people thought I was an idiot at first, but Giles did this for me back in the Pyrenees and I’ve never forgotten it. Thanks Giles!) So, we commenced the next leg of Acatenango, the lead group with Eddie and Ashley and David, forging on like Olympians with no need for pacing. Mid-way was Alicia, Lee and Jeremy. And bringing up the rear... yep. Hi!
The second hour of climbing (because at this point it was not hiking) was brutal. I couldn’t see the path in front of me because of the green monster, so Lexie walked ahead of me and I followed her feet. She paused often if she thought I needed a break and made sure we drank a lot of water. At some point, the path became a foot of vertical for every foot of horizontal, and I nearly passed out. I don’t remember very much from this walk, but I got to see it the next day when we came back down.
Finally, we rounded a corner and I saw the group resting against some trees and a 3-way trail shed. They were about 20 yards away, and Ashley yelled down at me, “Oh no! Miriam! I’m so sorry we just left you to carry that pack!” heh. I wasn’t sure what to say, but since I could barely breathe, all I did was wave her away and fall into a heap when I got there. (Jes probably knows my expression at this point. Tired, hungry, thirsty, and just Not In the Mood.) Happily someone poured some candied peanuts in my hands and I think my mood changed instantly. It’s amazing how quickly my heart and lungs recovered when I could just stand still for a moment. But then again, how quickly my condition deteriorated once moving again.
Ashley took the pack next and we began hour three of the climb. This part was more enjoyable for me. Maybe because I’d shouldered that green bag for long enough to destroy all sense of pain in my body, or maybe it was because we had entered the jungle portion of our Aca hike. This part of the climb was difficult as well, but the scenery was strange and new and exciting. Instead of open spaces of farm, I walked between dripping mossy trees and hanging vines. Ferns were everywhere and our path was mucky volcanic ash. The tree roots made for natural steps and we again climbed nearly 45 degrees.
About this time it started to drizzle. I had draped my raincoat (Marmot!) over the back of my pack and was thankful for its extra large “Small” size so that it fit over the whole pack. At some point though, I thought I was hallucinating because I could hear what sounded like applause. Soon enough, a group of children rounded the corner at my rear and came charging up the path. There were about 8 kids, maybe 6 adults, and they had Guatemala “packs” on and a few blankets tied around their shoulders like capes. One of the men had a transistor radio tied to his pants. They were listening to the England v US game, which is how I learned we were down 1 - 0 to the Brits. We followed for a bit to listen to the commentary. I was hiking with Jeremy at this point and I could tell he wanted to follow the transistor, but much as I wanted to follow the World Cup up Acatenango, some things are just not humanly possible, and hiking at the pace of those children was just not in the cards for me. I fell behind.
At some point our group separated into a small and a large. The Forwards, still Ashley, Eddie and David, were off again, the slackers. Midfielders and Fullbacks fused and we traveled as a unit. The foremost position pausing until s/he saw a midfielder come into view and take a rest, beginning again when the keeper was with the group and could stop for a moment before beginning again. It was like an inchworm of hikers, up Acatenango mountain, bit by bloody bit. (how’s that for a mixed metaphor)
Somewhere along the way we broke the tree line, and the view into the valley was gorgeous for a few moments, but soon the clouds began to settle and we walked in fog and mist for most of the rest of the way. At this point Lee and I were switching the green pack back and forth every ten minutes or so, until I had a hallucinatory stumble and then Lee just took it for the final push. Happily, Eddie appeared out of the mist like some rain god and said he had come back down especially to take that pack. Lee handed it over without a word and then E was off again, like a jackrabbit.
The last twenty minutes of hiking was without pain, probably because I’d moved beyond it, like a zen master. And in fact, the pain was not so much in the actual hike, as it was in the oxygen problems. Somewhere along the way, I think my body just finally acknowledged that it was never going to be allowed to breathe again, and there was acceptance. I was able to enjoy the last tramp through those moorish grasses in silence and wonder. I walked with Lee and Alicia, and none of us said a word for the entire climb. Exhaustion yes, but sometimes climbing through forests makes people quiet, and I was happy to enjoy it with them. We emerged onto the base camp in a fog of drizzle and wind and scorched barren trees. The ground was covered in tufts of moor grass, and there was a loneliness to the place that would have been incredibly unnerving had I been alone.
(to be continued..)
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