My adventure began at the Huayna Potasi Tour Agency´s office in downtown La Paz. This is where I met two guys who made up our group of three for the trek. Tony is from Switzerland and Matt, a fellow Canadian from Ontario. Both in their mid-late 20´s, they appeared to be quite fit and up for the climb.
At the tour agency, we picked out the extra equipment we needed with the help of an eccentric but friendly 50-something-year old Bolivian doctor named Hugo, who also owns the company. In his casual and friendly manner, Hugo related his life story to us with details of how his father and role model, who was also a doctor, got him into climbing from an early age.
Next, the 3 of us embarking on the climb rode a private school bus with just our driver for the hour or so to base camp. It turned out to be a nice, cozy lodge situated on the edge of a turquoise blue artificial lake. It is on the edge of a hydro electric dam, which dropped off into a steep ravine just to the right of the lodge. We were informed this dam provides all the electricity for the city of La Paz.
After a nice lunch the day we arrived, we walked for a half hour or so up to the first glacier on the base of the mountain. Here, we practiced ice climbing for several hours with Mario who was to be our guide for the next three days. The weather was surprisingly warm and it was a beautifully sunny day. Nonetheless, we were bundled up in warm clothes, wearing ice climbing boots with spiked metal crampons strapped onto them and ice picks in hand. Mario also attached us to one another several meters apart with a heavy rope.
Most of the training was pretty basic, including how to walk in crampons so that each spike digs into the snow, decreasing the chance of our feet sliding out of their holds. We also learned how to properly use our ice pick so that we would have maximum grip as the blade dug into the ice, without dulling it while we pulled it out.
The most exciting part was at the end when we actually got to climb a
That evening, we had a hearty pasta dinner with soup and bread to prepare for more intense climbing the following day. Afterwards, I visited with Matt and Tony for a little while by the fireplace and then we all had an early night, going to sleep at around 8pm.In addition to the ice climbing training, we spent a night here in order to acclimatize to the higher altitude. La Paz is located at an elevation of 3,660 meters and we were now at approximately
The next morning at 8:30am, we had breakfast with nothing else scheduled until lunch time except for packing our gear. At 12:30pm we began our ascent from the lodge to the 2nd base camp. It involved steep rocky sections but didn´t require the use of our ice climbing gear. While there were glaciers on both sides of us, the section we climbed was relatively free of snow and ice. The terrain was relatively clear, although the consistent increase in altitude still made for a difficult climb that necessitated breaks in order to get my breathing under control. I began to develop a lingering fear of our day to come, which involved our final ascent to the summit as I was already finding the climb quite difficult.
We made it to our camp at
Mate de coca tea is made from the coca plant and contains a number of alkaloids including cocaine. The amount of cocaine in each leaf is only around 0.4%. As a result, the amount is too small to feel the effects of cocaine but a cup of tea provides a stimulant similar to coffee. Coca tea is traditionally said to be a cure-all for illnesses and is used to help with acclimatization to high elevation. It originates in the Andes mountain ranges of Bolivia, Ecuador and Peru.
After dinner, Tony, Matt and I played cards and then went to bed at around 6pm. None of us was able to sleep well in this altitude, which I had heard from other climbers would be the case. Simply from rolling over on my thin sleeping mat placed on a long, wooden top bunk, made me short of breath! In total I only slept maybe one hour on and off all night. Not that it was a very full night since Mario woke us up at 12:30am to have a hot drink and breakfast of fruit and trail mix before beginning our trek to the summit!
Luckily, the company provided us with enough warm clothes. I bundled up into several layers including thermal underwear, a fleece jacket, a down feather coat over top, two pairs of gloves and balaclava uner a woolen Alpaca hair hat and headlamp. Now it was time to brave the freezing cold night air. With boots and crampons securely fastened, I began what was to be the most challenging day of our trek and in retrospect possibly of my entire life.
Mario walked in front of me attached by a rope approximately three meters long. Tony and Matt had another guide between the two of them who had hiked up with us the day before since the company wisely provides one guide per two people for this trek. They and their guide were already ahead of me and out of sight on the trail within the first hour so I was grateful for being separated from them.
At certain points early on in the morning, I would get quite depressed feeling that if it was this hard so early on in the climb, I probably wouldn´t make it to the top. I imagined myself back at the hut waiting as Tony and Matt arrived, eyes glowing from their sense of great accomplishment, describing the magnificent journey and incredible views from the top.
At one point, while kneeling dejectedly on the snow and hyperventilating as I struggled to breathe, I even told Mario quietly that I thought I should turn around. I´m not sure if he didn´t understand my less than perfect Spanish, getting worse by the moment as my fatigue grew stronger or if he decided to ignore me but he continued to wait without responding. After catching my breath, I decided to keep going just a little bit further, hopefully to the other side of the nearby pass so that at least I could see the views from the back side of Potosi, even if it would only be in darkness with the limited light of my headlamp and billions of stars in the moonless sky.
Fortunately, I did reach a turning point after a particularly steep 45 degree section of the climb, when I rounded a corner and in the near dawn could not only see the views from the other side of the pass but also the summit of Huayna Potosi. It didn´t appear to be 4-6 hours away as Mario (who at this point had little faith in me) had warned but more like 2-3 hours at the most! While taking in this view of the peak, with its steep sections of black, jagged rocks blended into the deep layers of ice and snow, I knew that no matter what I had to get there.
I could now relate to the stories I´d heard of climbers attempting challenging summits, such as the 28 year old British man who recently climbed Everest as part of his goal to reach the highest summit on all seven continents. He was a motivational speaker who decided to climb the hard side of Everest and while he did make it to the summit, he was unable to descend safely due to total exhaustion. Since he was on such a difficult section of the mountain just below the summit and at such a high altitude, other climbers he encountered were unable to safely carry him down and as a result he froze to death! I also read they may not even be able to recover his body since it is so high up and on such a dangerous stretch, which makes it unsafe to carry him down! Mount Everest is the highest mountain in the world, after all at 8848m or 29029ft- that´s 5.5 miles above sea level!
According to Sir Edmund Hillary, a New Zealander who is thought to be the first person to summit Everest back in 1953, approximately 4,000 people have attempted to climb Everest. Of that number only 660 have been successful and 142 have died during their attempt! Yet, here I was climbing Huayna Potosi, more than 2/3 as high as the summit of Everest and I was now one of these people who didn´t fully realize my limitations in my obsession with making it to the top of the mountain.
Not that I was on a mountain even close to as hard as Everest but what I could relate to was the irrational feeling of needing to make it to the top oblivious of the potential consequences. I knew it was dangerous and that I was already struggling even though I was still hours away, without even considering that I would have to climb all the way back down the mountain again that same day.
This was the situation I struggled with in my heightened emotional state, surrounded by some of the highest mountains I´d ever seen let alone climbed. At close to 6,000 meters altitude in the thin atmosphere, my judgement may have also been impaired, not to mention it was possibly the closest I´d ever come to reaching my physical and mental limitations. I felt deeply and irrationally from within that reaching the summit or not would define my character and stupidly that was all that seemed to matter. I realise now that my determination, to put it nicely, was not at all far off from craziness!
To top it off Mario, who was definitely the most anti-break taking of all guides, as judged by the several other one and two person groups near us who all seemed to stop at regular intervals without any complaints from their guides. After one particularly steep section of trail, I flopped down next to two other groups who were sheltered from the wind next to a steep rock face. I then proceeded to grasp onto a boulder shaped chunk of ice for safety and comfort, while catching my breath yet again. As I did so, Mario continued to walk forward tugging me by the rope, to little avail since I was securely bound to the ice block. He then paused and turned with his head down in silent disapproval as another older and better English speaking guide began yelling at me in front of the other climbers. They all consisted of fit, young men I might add and even they need breaks!
He lectured me that I should not take breaks without my guide´s permission, who is the better person to decide when I should stop. This logic did not agree with me at all. First off, not only does Mario do this trek frequently keeping himself acclimatised and in immaculate shape so as to apparently not need any breaks at all but second, he is in front of me the entire time and so unable to see me. As a result, he is completely oblivious to my needs at any point during the trek except when I decide to stop and he can feel the extra weight on his rope. Due to my heightened emotions, his harsh words stung even deeper causing me to burst loudly into tears resulting in an awkward silence all around. No one whatsoever comforted me- how could they all be such heartless, cruel bastards I thought to myself quite reasonably.
Unfortunately, as a result of the trauma the tears seemed to have frozen onto my left eye, which caused it to be blurry for the rest of the day making me unable to see out of it clearly. It was as though someone had poured olive oil into my eye. The blurriness may have also resulted from a hematoma, which I´d read can occur when blood vessels in the eye break at high altitudes- I was doubtful of this however since my eye wasn´t red or sore.
In any case, his harsh words caused me to rise defiantly and continue walking just as I noticed a half meter wide and possibly fifteen meter deep crevasse, a mere several inches from where I had been sitting. This deep crack in the ice ran the entire length of the rock wall. Feeling this to be possibly my closest call thus far, I realised that maybe my guide was better suited to pick the rest spots after all, if only he did so once in awhile.
As I struggled forward, a tall and robust British trekker passed me with a several inch long, thin icicle hanging from each nostril. He advised me kindly to simply go slower so that I would need fewer breaks.
I decided to take his advice and so ignoring Mario´s persistent tugging, I continued at a much slower pace, possibly no faster than if I had been crawling on all fours. Just before this change of strategy, Mario had threatened that if I took one more break we would need to turn around. His logic was that if I was already this exhausted, it wouldn´t be safe to try and descend from further up the mountain. He also warned me that near the summit there would be a much more technical and dangerous section I would have to climb when I was even more tired. I heard him but refused to accept that after making it this far, I would have to turn back.
Several strategies I used to will myself forward included tricking myself by imagining lucidly all the best things in the world I could possibly have including material possessions, freedom from work, eternal love... I created a perfect world and then told myself convincingly that it would be mine if only I could just reach the summit. Another strategy was using my Reiki training and previous meditation practice at a particularly dangerous vertical stretch near the summit to focus my energy and avoid careless mistakes. This also helped to lessen my fear. I reasonably imagined how much easier it would be to climb back down the steep terrain after the sun had risen and I could see where I was going while taking breaks without getting cold with the reassuring sunlight to keep me warm.
Possibly the strongest motivation of all was the simple image I had of myself on top of the mountain, arms spread wide in the air and the happiest I had ever been as I took in the breathtaking views. Tony and Matt would be by my side, sharing in the experience and we would all feel amazing. As I continued forward, I willed myself to be numb to the pain, feeding off this vision while closing myself to any possibility that I might not make it.
As I inched forward, the mean guide who yelled at me earlier passed by on the trail, squaring off as he towered over me and asked expectantly where I was from. Canada I answered proudly, if not defiantly to which he was silent at first. I imagined he was expecting me to list a country such as England or Holland with few if any mountains. I hoped that like the guide I had while trekking in Guatemala, he knew that generally Canadians were used to the rugged outdoor terrain and steep mountains (although nowhere close to this altitude). He simply went on to say that if I was already out of energy, I had to consider that I would still have to climb back down the mountain, which also promised to be challenging and potentially quite dangerous. It was a valid point but despite my possibly reckless determination, the rational side of me also knew that I could do this if only I had enough of a chance to regulate my breathing. The physical side of me was tired but not exhausted and all my layers were still keeping me warm.
Continuing forward, I counted softly to myself... 1,2... 1,2... just 2 more steps, just 2 more. I inched forward with the crunch of each crampon as it dug into the snow and a blunt thud, each time the head of my ice pick now serving as a walking stick, dented the surface of the snow.
As we progressed no more than a hundred meters from the summit, the terrain took a drastic turn towards steepness. I truly needed my ice pick and crampons now for more than just balance, as I climbed the near vertical wall of ice and snow. For security, Mario was perched above me on a ledge and attached to the other end of my rope for added safety. I couldn´t look at him though for fear he somehow didn´t have me securely connected to the approximately thirty meter ice wall that stretched out above and below me.
Throughout the morning, he had been reminding me how ´Muy lejo´ or very far we still had to go, which didn´t exactly encourage me. Finally, after the sun had already risen and after climbing this last section of cliff, he told me from just above (finally!) that we were very close to the summit. As I looked up through my one good eye, I could see the conical shape of the snow capped peak, as I´d seen it in pictures at the tour agency. While you would think I´d have been excited after such a challenging journey, I was on the brink of total exhaustion and as a result the last fifteen meters never felt so far away.
At 7:10am, I was the first girl of the day to reach the summit by just a few minutes but none the less, I wasn´t so slow after all. The views were truly spectacular with entirely unobstructed layers of snow and glacier covered mountain peaks as far as the eye could see on all sides- all of them lower than us save for Bolivia´s highest mountain Sajama, which at 6,520 meters (21,391 feet) was a dramatic, white warrior towering over us albeit off in the far distance. While I didn´t get to share the moment with Matt and Tony who had long since descended, Icicle Man was there next to me. As I noticed him, a wave of gratitude swept over me and I thanked him for the advise he had given me earlier to slow down. He nodded and smiled in response, apparently also overcome with the moment.
Along with these mountains, I could see Lake Titicaca far away although still huge as it stretched over the dry landscape past the city of La Paz. The sky was deep indigo and totally clear save for a layer of low lying, white billowy clouds the shape of cotton puffs that nestled far below us in the valley. It felt surreal to have finally made it after what felt like days- a lifetime even, instead of just 6 hours. It didn´t matter that I could only see out of one eye now, not even knowing if the damage was irreversible or that I was too tired to stand right away and as a result had to let Mario take pictures of the view for me. All that mattered, was that I´d made it and I felt this accomplishment deeply.
Always in a hurry like the White Rabbit in Alice in Wonderland, Mario was already encouraging me to begin the descent. Still too tired to argue, we did so after just 5-10 minutes rest. Fortunately, I had regained enough strength in this time to make it down the steepest section safely. Before reaching the summit our average break time was just 2 minutes.
On our way down the first ridge, I had tears running down my cheeks to Mario´s dismay as he stared at me through quiet eyes and shook his head sadly. I smiled and even laughed a little to let him know that I was OK or possibly just nuts but hopefully at least communicating they were tears of happiness.
Despite Mario´s continued heavy sighs at each break, I was more empowered on the way down since I could stop as needed without the threat of having to turn around since we were already headed that way. So I stopped when I felt like it for drinks of water or to take photos of the now sparkling snow under the indigo blue sky. Mario did manage to convince me to continue at certain points though, such as under the steep rock cliffs where it would have been all too easy for a loose rock or boulder to tumble down directly on top of us.
The hike down was incredible as I wasn´t as tired as on the way up and the visibility was perfect. The atmosphere couldn´t have been better except for Mario´s portable radio, which was securely fastened under his left armpit and blaring some kind of auction or horse racing in fast, obnoxious Spanish. This and my inevitable fatigue combined with my sore, blistered feet. They were a result of the now uncomfortably hard plastic, downhill ski-style boots that rammed into my toes with each steep downward step. The resulting pain in my feet kept me at a slower pace although I also wanted to take my time and enjoy the scenery along with the overall experience, which I knew I would likely have only this one time.
Once again, despite Mario´s attempts at speeding me up, I continued on slowly, gazing from side to side at the views as though in a dream.
His prodding included a tactful ´Why is the girl in front of you faster?´. Thanks Mario. Probably because she didn´t make it to the summit! His urgency was increased since for some reason he had the only key to the hut we stayed in the previous night and this was where we were meeting Tony, Matt and their guide. I reassured him I would tell them all it was my fault and how they seemed like patient guys who wouldn´t mind if we arrived a little late- not that I really knew them but they did seem fairly easy going.
Another of Mario´s speed-me-up strategies was to tell me that my ´boyfriends´ (who I had just met 2 days before) would already be there and think that I was really slow and weak unless we hurried. ´Mujeres fuerte´ or strong women he added as a final attempt to improve my self image and insuing tempo. He reasoned that since we were now going down, it was easier and so I could go faster, even though we happened to be on a narrow section of ice approx two hand lengths wide, with a steep downward cliff on one side! I defended myself with what I thought to be a very reasonable response, which was to simply tell him that I didn´t want to die. After all, I was very tired and from past experience knew this to be the most likely instance for careless mistakes to occur.
I also added that he should be patient with me if he wanted a big tip, after which he did ease up a little, as noted when he switched channels on his radio to some chilled out, instrumental Boliviana music. I also insisted I would tell the others that he tried to make me go faster unsuccessfully.
When we finally arrived at the hut, the others were stretched out patiently in the sunshine just outside the front door to the hut. They had been waiting for an extra one and a half hours or so and possibly even enjoyed the break, as they said they also found it to be a very challenging climb. Tony had actually lost one of the crampons off his boots at one point and in his exhaustion didn´t even notice until he had reached the summit! Surprisingly, he even managed to find it on the way back down.
Despite all my criticism of Mario, I really did appreciate his help in the end. There were positive moments also, such as when I was lying on a ridgeline on the way down, wriggling around in the snow helplessly as I tried to pull my snow pants up. Along with my other layers, they had fallen part way down due to one of my suspenders coming unfastened. Maybe the other layers had also fallen due to what must have been the thousands of calories I´d already burned over the past few days. Another effect of altitude is loss of appetite, so I hadn´t been eating much either. In any case, Mario had respectfully helped me pull my layers up and fastened them to prevent further incident.
In the end, while he and I did have some challenging communication, in part due to the language barrier and our differing abilities, I was really greatful to him for getting me all the way up and down the mountain safely. It is not every day that you realise just one small step in the wrong direction, or in my case an exhausted stagger sideways, could have been the end.
As we got close to the base of the mountain, he even carried my heavy pack for me, which was now full of all my climbing gear since we were past the ice and snowy sections. This helped me to stumble more successfully over the many loose rocks all competing to twist my ankle as they teetered dangerously underfoot.
So, during our last break as he wished me a ´Buen viaje´ meaning good trip and I tipped him generously. He told me his next trek would begin the following day once a new group had arrived! In any case, after the range of intense emotions I´d experienced that day, I felt close to him and he did help me reach the summit, possibly even saving my life at certain points in a way that another more careless or less experienced guide may not have done.
