Trip to the top

After the long morning walk the guide and I took a well-deserved break on the lake. It had stopped raining by this point, but a fine mist remained in the air. We had gotten a head start over the porters, who stayed behind to pack up the camp. I felt a little sheepish being coddled by the porters. Along with the guide they did all of the cooking, cleaning, pitching tents, and so forth. All I had to do was walk. That was a chore in itself and after the hard morning hike I was ready for a rest. The egg and cheese sandwich I had for breakfast had tied me over, which was good since the porters were a good hour behind us and had all the food.
Waiting for the porters allowed plenty of time to bathe in the hot springs, which were a short walk from the shelter on the lake. These springs come from the volcanic core and are quite hot and loaded with minerals. The locals say they have healing powers, and I could see why. The water spews out of the cliff and into a large pool where pipes run the water into three seperate smaller pools which were not as hot. The hot mineral water felt great after walking in the cold rain all morning, and the cool mist was perfect for keeping me from over-heating. The pools were in a valley with a river, and the mist and clouds gave the area a mystical quality.

After a long soak, feeling refreshed and rejuvenated we made our way back to the shelter just as the guides arrived. We had our usual delicious lunch and I drank two cups of black, stout, grainy coffee. It was crucial to gather strength at this point, as the rest of the afternoon would be the most difficult walk yet. I was able to get some shots of the lake from higher up, but the afternoon would prove to be as difficult for taking pictures as any other time. We would reach the top by early evening and camp near the summit. The plan was to wake up early the next morning and hike to the summit to watch the sunrise.


Unfortunately, nature had other plans. It began raining again shortly after lunch, and the camera went into the bag shortly after this last photo was taken. We walked over many deep gorges such as this one. It's difficult to gage the depth in this photo, but it was quite deep and very long. There's something really cool about crossing these bridges. As it got wetter that afternoon the incline became steeper and rockier. This would be the hardest work of the trek. We walked steeply upwards for three hours or so. Again and again I marveled at how the porters managed to make this trip with all of the baggage on their shoulders. It's a very dangerous profession and I gained a deep respect for what they do. As we got above 10,000 feet the temperature dropped considerably. The wind that had disappeared in the crater was back in full force. Despite being soaked, I was okay as long as I kept moving. For this we didn't take any more breaks and moved upward full steam.

By the time we reached the top I was completely worn out. My knees ached from propelling myself up the steep slope with the heavy backpack. When I reached the top, there was absolutely nothing to block the cold wind. My clothes were wet and I could do nothing but freeze until the porters arrived. I had one dry outfit and wasn't about to get that wet. Had I done that I'd have froze to death that night. The entire afternoon I was looking forward to getting underneath shelter next to a warm fire, as we had the day before. It was shocking to realize when we reached the top that there was no shelter whatsoever. I found out the next day that seven people had died that year of hypothermia at the top. When the porters finally arrived and set up camp I was shivering cold. The rain would not relent until the morning, and our planned sunrise was impossible because of the cold, wind, clouds, and rain. When my tent was finally pitched I put on my remaining dry clothes and bundled up under the sleeping bag. I wouldn't leave the tent the rest of the night. The wind and rain grew more intense that night and keeping warm was a struggle, even with the cocoon-like sleeping bag made for these kind of conditions. Despite the conditions, I managed to sleep that evening out of sheer exhaustion. It was a strange feeling being in that tent, freezing, and knowing that there was absolutely no way out. It's not as if I could say: "Okay, I give up. Let's go back to the hotel." It was Christmas night and I was stuck on top of the mountain, held hostage in my tent by the hostile conditions. Still, it was perhaps the best Christmas ever.