My Pilgramage, climbing Mt Cotapaxi - Ecuador Travel Story
(0 reviews)
Title: My Pilgramage, climbing Mt Cotapaxi
Website:
Mt Cotapaxi. December 2004. My visit to Ecuador was not as a tourist, this was a pilgrimage. In January 2003, my son Mathew tragically lost his life in Ecuador whilst on University break. He was 20 years old. I decided before I left that I would try and do everything Mathew did whilst he was in South America. Mathew climbed Mt Cotapaxi one week before his accident and he mentioned it in his last email home as being one of the hardest things he had done and that he was sorry he didn’t take more photos, he only took two, even these we will never see. I decided that I would climb this volcano for Mathew and take as many photos as I possibly could. My younger son Nathan accompanied me. It all started in Quito. We left in a 4 wheel drive to Mt Cotapaxi which took a few hours, what a bumpy ride on a winding dirt road to the trail leading to the Cotapaxi refugio.. It was quite a trek up to the refugio, The car park is at 4600m, and you walk up from there. Those last 200m can take a surprising 40 to 60 minutes. Almost all climbers who plan to attempt Cotapaxi begin their journey with half a night's stay at the refugio. The other half of the night is devoted to the climb, in order to make the summit by early morning and avoid dangerous conditions. We arrived at the Refugio, there were only two other climbers there, one French lady about my age (49 years old) and a German man, I think he would have been in his thirties, and what seemed to be quite a few locals and guides. We went upstairs where the sleeping quarters were and chose a bunk bed for later that night. Christian our guide went directly to the kitchen to prepare food for us. Our dinner was lots of noodles, the two minute type, bread and jam, unfortunately he was not the best of cooks. It was about this time that I started to feel slightly unwell, a bit nauseous, but I tried to eat as much as possible as I knew I would need it for energy to do the climb. Nathan had decided by now that he was not going to attempt the climb and would have a sleep in instead. Quite a few other groups arrived during the late afternoon, they would also attempt the climb. We played cards for a while and by 9.30 pm lights were out. I was rudely awaken at 12 midnight from what was a terrible sleep. Within an hour and a half we had food in our stomachs and were all decked out in our mountaineering gear. The only other people on the mountain with us that morning were the French lady and German man and their guide. So, we began our ascent. Before the climb I had told Christian why I wanted so badly to climb Cotapxi, he was a very quiet chap and did not say much. The climb began virtually on snow, up the slopes of Cotapaxi. Slowly we made our way up to the beginning of the glacier, focusing on little lights up the mountain in the distance who were the other group. We reached the glacier and had a brief rest with the other group. It was here that Christian said that he was worried that I would not make it. I was still feeling slightly unwell and did not have my normal amount of energy. Not surprising considering the altitude. I cried, I thought I had failed. Christian said that we would try for another ten minutes and see how I coped. It was very tough going, every step felt that I had lead in my shoes. Through all the pain I could not help but be spell bound by the beauty and the thought that my son had seen this before me. The path made its way up solid snow slopes around numerous glacial crevasses and seracs. We crossed a spectacular large snow bridge and tried not to think about the depth of the crevasse that dropped beneath us. The temperature plummeted as the night wore on and I was quite cold every time we stopped to gasp for breath in the oxygen-depleted air. For several hours we were enshrouded in clouds and darkness. All we could see was the path ahead illuminated by our headlamps. Around 6:00 a.m. we were overcome by a strikingly beautiful sunrise as cloud-tops below us shone with brilliant hues of purple, violet and pink. Poor Christian, every time we stopped for a rest, which was often, he asked if I was ready to go back. This time I said lets give it another 10 minutes, you never know I might make it all the way, a bit it at a time. The most difficult section of the climb was a steep snow slope divided by a long crevasse. The only way to cross was by using a ladder attached to the uphill side of the crevasse that dangled two feet out from the lower edge. The other group was crossing this just before us. Christian told me to watch how they did it as they were experienced climbers. Christian went over first, we were roped together, he secured the rope at the other side. Needless to say, I held my breath as I knelt down and crawled over the gap between the lower side of the crevasse and the bottom rung of the ladder. By that point I was just very thankful to be on a rope. After the ladder there was just one final steep snow slope left until the summit. Every step took a concentrated effort, as my lungs could only take in a fraction of the oxygen that they were used to at sea level. I was lucky to have spent some time acclimatizing in Peru and Ecuador, but even so, there is no way to describe how much effort it took to take one simple step. Huffing and puffing, I dragged my body up onto the lip of the volcano and found myself staring into a gigantic caldera steaming with wisps of sulfuric mist. Within minutes we had reached the summit. It was around 9.00 a.m. and had been a long night. It was a beautiful windswept summit of snow with a clear view into the crater. We were above the clouds, which covered almost everything in sight. It was amazing to see the other high Andean summits, such as Cayambe, Chimborazo, and the Illinizas, poking up through them. It was a view right out of a Climbing magazine. I didn’t have any sunglasses and the German chap lent me a spare pair that he had, they reached the summit just before we did. We were the only climbers on the day, 5 in total, that is including the guides, that made it to the top on this day. We stayed there for a short while taking photos and taking in the beautiful surroundings. I thought of Mat and imagined him there, the exhaustion on his face, sense of satisfaction and awe at the surroundings. Fortunately, we descended quickly and carefully with no major problems. Christian said that I broke the record coming down, although I was a bit slower going up. I returned to the refugio with a tremendous feeling of satisfaction and accomplishment for having completed the climb that Mat had. It was physically the hardest thing that I have ever done. Mathew must have been so very proud of himself. Nathan was down the bottom with the video camera.
Website:
Mt Cotapaxi. December 2004. My visit to Ecuador was not as a tourist, this was a pilgrimage. In January 2003, my son Mathew tragically lost his life in Ecuador whilst on University break. He was 20 years old. I decided before I left that I would try and do everything Mathew did whilst he was in South America. Mathew climbed Mt Cotapaxi one week before his accident and he mentioned it in his last email home as being one of the hardest things he had done and that he was sorry he didn’t take more photos, he only took two, even these we will never see. I decided that I would climb this volcano for Mathew and take as many photos as I possibly could. My younger son Nathan accompanied me. It all started in Quito. We left in a 4 wheel drive to Mt Cotapaxi which took a few hours, what a bumpy ride on a winding dirt road to the trail leading to the Cotapaxi refugio.. It was quite a trek up to the refugio, The car park is at 4600m, and you walk up from there. Those last 200m can take a surprising 40 to 60 minutes. Almost all climbers who plan to attempt Cotapaxi begin their journey with half a night's stay at the refugio. The other half of the night is devoted to the climb, in order to make the summit by early morning and avoid dangerous conditions. We arrived at the Refugio, there were only two other climbers there, one French lady about my age (49 years old) and a German man, I think he would have been in his thirties, and what seemed to be quite a few locals and guides. We went upstairs where the sleeping quarters were and chose a bunk bed for later that night. Christian our guide went directly to the kitchen to prepare food for us. Our dinner was lots of noodles, the two minute type, bread and jam, unfortunately he was not the best of cooks. It was about this time that I started to feel slightly unwell, a bit nauseous, but I tried to eat as much as possible as I knew I would need it for energy to do the climb. Nathan had decided by now that he was not going to attempt the climb and would have a sleep in instead. Quite a few other groups arrived during the late afternoon, they would also attempt the climb. We played cards for a while and by 9.30 pm lights were out. I was rudely awaken at 12 midnight from what was a terrible sleep. Within an hour and a half we had food in our stomachs and were all decked out in our mountaineering gear. The only other people on the mountain with us that morning were the French lady and German man and their guide. So, we began our ascent. Before the climb I had told Christian why I wanted so badly to climb Cotapxi, he was a very quiet chap and did not say much. The climb began virtually on snow, up the slopes of Cotapaxi. Slowly we made our way up to the beginning of the glacier, focusing on little lights up the mountain in the distance who were the other group. We reached the glacier and had a brief rest with the other group. It was here that Christian said that he was worried that I would not make it. I was still feeling slightly unwell and did not have my normal amount of energy. Not surprising considering the altitude. I cried, I thought I had failed. Christian said that we would try for another ten minutes and see how I coped. It was very tough going, every step felt that I had lead in my shoes. Through all the pain I could not help but be spell bound by the beauty and the thought that my son had seen this before me. The path made its way up solid snow slopes around numerous glacial crevasses and seracs. We crossed a spectacular large snow bridge and tried not to think about the depth of the crevasse that dropped beneath us. The temperature plummeted as the night wore on and I was quite cold every time we stopped to gasp for breath in the oxygen-depleted air. For several hours we were enshrouded in clouds and darkness. All we could see was the path ahead illuminated by our headlamps. Around 6:00 a.m. we were overcome by a strikingly beautiful sunrise as cloud-tops below us shone with brilliant hues of purple, violet and pink. Poor Christian, every time we stopped for a rest, which was often, he asked if I was ready to go back. This time I said lets give it another 10 minutes, you never know I might make it all the way, a bit it at a time. The most difficult section of the climb was a steep snow slope divided by a long crevasse. The only way to cross was by using a ladder attached to the uphill side of the crevasse that dangled two feet out from the lower edge. The other group was crossing this just before us. Christian told me to watch how they did it as they were experienced climbers. Christian went over first, we were roped together, he secured the rope at the other side. Needless to say, I held my breath as I knelt down and crawled over the gap between the lower side of the crevasse and the bottom rung of the ladder. By that point I was just very thankful to be on a rope. After the ladder there was just one final steep snow slope left until the summit. Every step took a concentrated effort, as my lungs could only take in a fraction of the oxygen that they were used to at sea level. I was lucky to have spent some time acclimatizing in Peru and Ecuador, but even so, there is no way to describe how much effort it took to take one simple step. Huffing and puffing, I dragged my body up onto the lip of the volcano and found myself staring into a gigantic caldera steaming with wisps of sulfuric mist. Within minutes we had reached the summit. It was around 9.00 a.m. and had been a long night. It was a beautiful windswept summit of snow with a clear view into the crater. We were above the clouds, which covered almost everything in sight. It was amazing to see the other high Andean summits, such as Cayambe, Chimborazo, and the Illinizas, poking up through them. It was a view right out of a Climbing magazine. I didn’t have any sunglasses and the German chap lent me a spare pair that he had, they reached the summit just before we did. We were the only climbers on the day, 5 in total, that is including the guides, that made it to the top on this day. We stayed there for a short while taking photos and taking in the beautiful surroundings. I thought of Mat and imagined him there, the exhaustion on his face, sense of satisfaction and awe at the surroundings. Fortunately, we descended quickly and carefully with no major problems. Christian said that I broke the record coming down, although I was a bit slower going up. I returned to the refugio with a tremendous feeling of satisfaction and accomplishment for having completed the climb that Mat had. It was physically the hardest thing that I have ever done. Mathew must have been so very proud of himself. Nathan was down the bottom with the video camera.
