Volcán Misti (2 X). Domingo 4 de noviembre – jueves 8 de
noviembre.
There are two volcanoes very visible from the city of Arequipa: Misti
(5821 m) and Chachani (6075 m). Chachani, due to its extra 300 m of altitude,
has a significant amount of snow on top while Misti has little snow. These are
not extraordinarily high by South American standards: there are 102 peaks in the Andes over 6000 m.
In North America, however, the
two highest peaks are Alaska’s Denali (6194 m or 20 320 ft) and Canada’s Mt
Logan (5959 m). Outside of the Himalayan Range (Nepal , Tibet, Bhutan, India;
includes Mt Everest) and the Kakakoram Range (Pakistan, India, Tibet; includes
K2 and has more peaks over 8000 m than the Himalayas), the world’s highest
mountains are in South America. Denali is the only other mountain in the world
over 6000 m.
Denali is known in Alaska by the Koyukon native name, meaning the ‘Great
One’. When Alaska attempted to have the name changed officially by the US
government from its current name of Mt McKinley, the attempt was blocked by a
senator from Ohio, the state that US President McKinley was from.
I have wanted to start climbing some of the mountains in the Andes for a
couple of months especially a volcano but I am finally in good enough shape and
reasonably acclimatized to altitude (at least to 3500 m). I will climb one of
these. I decide to try Misti, mostly because it is such a perfect volcanic
cone, and so
I try for two days to find others interested, or a group going with a
tour operator but both are negative. So I will go it alone. I rent a tent and a
sleeping pad and arrange with a tour operator to get a ride out there (it is
4x4 country). This latter is a mistake as he charges me far too much ($130) but
at this point I am only thinking beautiful. On the other hand, Chachani looks
like it must have exploded more than once: there is no obvious volcanic cone.
In spite of the snow, Chachani is less challenging because the upper slopes are
not as steep and the road goes a lot higher onto the mountain making the climb
shorter.of getting up to the top.
I am nervous that night and sleep very little. This is earthquake
country and there is a major tremor at about 1:30 in the morning. I am half
asleep but later I remember thinking that there must be some very heavy
machinery going by and wondering whether the roof will hold. It did.
A guide (Alfonso) picks me up in a Jeep at 8. Once we get out of the
city, I see that the entire area is very dry and desert-like; there are few
trees, few streams or rivers, and lots of cactus. On the way to the area from
Arequipa, we pass a steep drop-off beside the road, and clearly lots of people
have been throwing garbage over the edge in spite of signs saying that is
illegal. I have found that cliffs beside roads close to cities seem to be prime
places for disposing of garbage in Peru.
Volcán Misti.
Fifty years ago you would have seen a lot more snow.
We arrive at about 9:30, at the end of the (4x4) road, at about 3500m.
The last part is very rough and Alfonso seems not to care about the Jeep as he
goes too fast. I first assume that the Jeep is not his but I am wrong. He is
just careless. I start to hike up the plateau and then over through a valley
onto the rocky spine that will take me up (and up and down) to the first major
flat area half way up at about 4500 m. For the first part, there is a good
trail through grassy areas with a lot of loose rock. After that, once I start
climbing up the spine, I am on my
own through loose rock and sand. To my left is a chute of
sand and loose rock, with some parts of the chute almost pure black volcanic
sand. The rocks are mostly volcanic (no surprise there). They are fine grained,
gray, smooth, almost greasy, and the fractures are smooth with rounded edges.
These fractures are glass-like and it may be that there is a lot of melted
silica in the rock (?) There is also some black volcanic rock, and also some
brown very sharp-edged rock, scoria I think it is called.
These are the mountain's down escalators. The part of the sandy chute at
the top of the photo is almost pure volcanic sand.
As I climb, I see a number of viscachas, 2-3 kg rodents with rabbit-like
ears and a long bushy tail that live among the rocks at high altitude and eat
alpine vegetation much like pikas do in Canada. Their droppings are very
widespread. I also see the occasional bird: mostly two species. There is a gray
finch or sparrow (female is brown with a speckled breast) and a rusty-coloured
thrasher-like bird with a long slightly curved bill and a short upturned tail.
I notice that every time I open a bottle of liquid, even my water bottle, it is
under pressure as I am continually moving to lower and lower pressure with the
ascent.
Arequipa in the distance below, Peru’s second biggest city, is covered
with yellowish tinged smog. As far I can tell, it is coming primarily from
diesel engine buses which spew a disgusting amount of black smoke, and an awful
lot of cars in poor repair also spewing large clouds of burned oil smoke. I
believe that the valley shape will tend to hold in the pollution, although it
does dissipate that night only to start building again throughout the next day.
When I hit about 4000 m, I develop a headache which never leaves until I
arrive back in Arequipa. At the same time, my energy seems to disappear and I
slow down considerably. After continuing on, with my breaks getting longer, I
arrive at the flat area at about 4500 m, and walking about 500 m over to left
is where I find a pyramid-shaped rock outcropping, that the guides call El
Piramide. It is 3:15 PM. This is one of two camping areas (4580 m) and I will
camp here. The pyramid provides excellent shelter from the wind, and people
have created flat tenting areas by shoveling the sand, and surrounding each
campsite with rocks (for wind protection and to use to tie down the tents).
There is also a very large amount of graffiti on the pyramid, mostly with names
and dates, as well as a small amount of garbage. I have seen a lot of graffiti
coming up and will continue to see it the next day although there is less as
one gets further up for obvious reasons. I have also seen a staggering amount
of garbage coming up: mostly abandoned plastic water bottles, but also cans,
liquor bottles, lots of Kleenex, the occasional broken piece of equipment or
discarded pieces of clothing including the sole of a hiking boot.
I set up camp and eat a supper of canned fish, bread rolls, apples and
oranges, and a chocolate bar. The same bird species are scavenging about as are
a number of field mice. Because of the latter I make sure that my camping area
is very clean. I clean out my empty can with sand, and make sure there are no
smells in or about my tent. At around 5
PM or so, two young Brits arrive, Dave and Joe. They are armed to the teeth
with climbing equipment. They have only arrived in Peru from Britain a couple
of weeks ago, and their plan is to climb as many mountains as they can,
culminating with Aconcagua in Argentina, the highest mountain outside of Asia
at 6962 m. After that, the rainy season will be here and they will send home
their climbing equipment and just travel. Their gear includes some
sophisticated camping gear, hiking poles, water proof suits, down jackets,
orange plastic climbing boots, crampons, harnesses, climbing rope, and ice
axes. Much of the gear is overkill for
this mountain as there is virtually no snow at the top, as the snowline
continues its retreat upwards. It is worth noting that the Cordillera Blanca in
northern Peru, the highest mountain range in the tropics with 35 peaks over
6000 m, had a crest of white that could be seen from the Pacific Ocean until
the glaciers began to recede early in the 20th century, and of
course this recession is speeding up.
A beautiful sunset due to the Arequipa smog.
I go to bed around 6:30. Since I did not bring a sleeping bag, I put on
my fleece hoodie, long underwear, and an insulated jacket. I cover myself with
a small light blanket. I cannot sleep. I
feel like I cannot get enough air and I have to re-arrange the blanket every
time I turn over. Iget up at 1:30, eat a bit and start out at 2:00 with a
headlamp. A Canadian climber in his 40s who comes up during the night with a
guide and gets to us just as we are getting ready. They drop their excess gear
here (although they do not have much) and the two of them disappear into the
darkness, their hiking poles clicking rhythmically on the rocks. Dave and Joe
are ready minutes before I am and I wish them luck. I have a headache, and have
had little sleep. I leave some gear behind including the tent. I go slow. Today
there is loose rock and sand, with pure sand in the chutes between the rocky
ridges. Here and there are flatter areas where there are trails (better packed)
but much of it is up to me. I take a fairly direct route up and over steep
sections. By 7:30, I estimate that I am only at about 5000 m and am making very
slow progress. I have to turn back.
It is fun running downslope
through the sand chutes but I stop well above the campsite to sleep for an hour
or so. Because of the Brits’ bright orange tent, it is easy to spot our campsite, and therefore I have no
problem guiding myself down. When I get to the campsite, I meet the Canadian,
but only for seconds as he seems in a big hurry. He is just the opposite of the
Brits, carrying almost no gear with him, like me only less so. He has been to
the top (about 9:30) and then they make tracks for the bottom. I leisurely take
down my camp after another snooze and wait for the Brits. They have been successful
but arrived up top quite a bit later than planned and were slowed down
considerably by the thin air.
We go down quickly together and they have a ride with another tour
group. This group of three plus guide never got as high as the camp. One member
was sick, and got a ride out on the same day, while the other two camped low
and then hiked a little bit upward the next day. I end up getting a ride with
them too, and then try to get some of the exorbitant fee I paid to the tour
operator for my return ride when I get back to Arequipa: I am only very
modestly successful.
I did not plan to return here, but when I am standing at the bottom
looking up at Misti, I feel I have to try again. Like Dave said, it is unfinished business. It is so beautiful and I know
I can do a lot better. So I decide to take a day to rest up and try again.
The next day I get ready. I feel very positive in spite of diarrhea, a
runny nose, a cough, and chapped lips. This is mostly a result of the altitude
except for the diarrhea. I attribute that to nervousness as well as a digestive
tract which is being continually challenged in my travels.
I spend time reading about altitude sickness on the internet. The main
things I learn to do is to keep well hydrated, increase the carbohydrates in
the diet, get lots of sleep, and only increase altitude by about 300 m per day.
I have done none of the above. This time I will- except for the slow increase
in altitude: kind of hard to do that. There is also a drug, Diamox, which
increases breathing rate even while sleeping so I pick up some at a pharmacy. I
also buy more food and drink (Gatorade and apple juice), and filter some water.
I figure that juice and Gatorade will be easier to consume in large quantities
than water. I also buy several liters for today to hydrate myself before hand.
Altitude sickness affects everyone differently and apparently has little to do
with fitness or age. I imagine that the fact that my hemoglobin levels have
been low for the last 10 years cannot help.
I buy a light sleeping bag and a
hiking pole. Through Sylvia, a woman who works at my hostal, I arrange a ride
up for half the cost. I talk to another agency, Quechua Tours (on Calle
Jerusalem on the east side, that Sylvia used to work for and highly recommended)
about renting a tent and pad. I realize that this agency is more active with
climbing trips and I could get on a trip with them but at this point I
feel like I need to go it alone. The
agency has a group on the mountain today, and can probably get the guide to
leave the tent and pad on the mountain so I do not have to carry it up. (The
beauty of cell phones.) I get a call at the hostal later telling me where the
tent is (the upper camp site).
I start out again the next day at 8. I slept great and I feel great. This is one of the few places I have
stayed where I have a tv in the room.
While I am packing up, I listen to a bit of US election results. Thank
God Obama is back in. Not that he has done great things in my opinion: almost
nothing on the climate change front. However, at least there is some sanity in
the White House. This time I also bring my GPS so that I can keep track of my
upward progress (reading my altitude).
I have the same driver that I came back with two days ago. Alberto is a
careful driver who wants his vehicle to last. On the way out, we discuss the
training of mountain guides and it seems pretty much the same as in Canada. It
is a three year process with a lot of training in the mountains. When the
training started a few years ago, it was a pilot project funded by the Italian
government. Since the project ended and Peru is on its own, the cost of taking
the training has doubled so I am guessing that the number of guides being
trained has dropped.
It is another beautiful day. The hiking pole is helpful. Half way up on
the first day, a rock totally unexpectedly moves under me. I am always looking
out for instability underfoot but I do not see this coming. I go down and as I
do I try to get my hands under me, but am only partly successful. I see a rock
coming up very rapidly toward my face and hear a crunch as they connect. I grab
some Kleenex from my pocket and hold it against the numb spot on my forehead
expecting lots of blood. But there is not much. Surveying the damage, I have a
big lump on my forehead with a cut, a scraped nose, and a scraped thumb. I am
very lucky. Even with the fall, I do not have much of a headache. I arrive at
the first campsite a little faster than the last time in spite of taking time
to enjoy the view. However, my tent is at the upper site, and I do not know
where that is. All I know is that it is ‘a little higher’, and that I remember
walking through it in the dark last time by coincidence and that it was in an
open area. It takes me about an hour to find it, using the process of
elimination, and the sighting of several bags of garbage. It is about 150 m
higher at 4729 m and probably about 1 km away. It also has a staggering amount
of garbage stashed around it. There are more tent sites here so this is clearly
the most popular campsite; the higher
altitude is, I am sure, the reason. Because of the garbage there is a much
bigger and more aggressive population of field mice here. So I am extra
careful. At one point, I drop an apple core near where a mouse is foraging. A
finch finds it first and pecks at it for a bit and then leaves. The mouse, on
the other hand, hauls it under a rock where it proceeds to eat a significant
portion.
I have drunk 2.5 L by the end of Day 1. I know I will not be able to
drink much on Day 2. It will be too cold during the ascent, I won’t be thirsty
and the drink will be too cold. I still
have not much of a headache in spite of the large lump. The only symptom I have
is tingling fingers and toes from time to time, which is one of the side
effects of the Diamox. The Diamox acidifies your blood (by inhibiting a blood
enzyme which causes you to breathe harder. In doing so, I imagine extremities
are more likely to vasoconstrict which is the cause of the tingling.
There is a beautiful sunset and it is a clear night, the stars and the
first quarter moon are out.
I go to bed again at 6:30. It is colder this time with the clear sky. I
am thankful for the sleeping bag and I sleep well, getting up at 1:30 AM.
Misti's pointed shadow just after sun-up.
Again I start out at 2. I take a more direct route upward at first. I
wish I had gloves. The rock is very cold on the hands. I zig zag through rocks
more, and scramble over steep pitches less. I stay on trail when I can. While I
definitely have much more energy this time, when I stop for a bit of breakfast at 5:30, I am only at 5250
m, and have not quite climbed half way up between my camp and the summit:
almost 600 m of vertical left to go. As
I get higher, the trails become too steep and not packed enough and I therefore
make poor progress on them because they are mainly loose sand. I find it is
better to go along the edges of the outcrops, or through the loose rock on the
outcrops, although I find the latter a little too dangerous for my liking and I
avoid this when I can. My energy is waning with the altitude, and I am starting
to get a headache, and I go slower. Whenever the going gets steep, I have to
pause every few steps to catch my breath. Finally at 8:15, I can see the 5 m
tall metal cross marking the summit beyond and above the rim of the crater.
By 9:20, I reach the rim (5700 m) and look down into the crater. It is
magnificent. There is actually an older outer rim that I am on which is
higher: further to my left along the rim
is the summit. There is a newer crater inside. On the walls of the inner crater
there are two areas where clouds of steam puff out. Alberto told me that there
is temperature monitoring equipment on the floor of the crater. Generally the
crater floor is at about 200o C. A few years ago when there was an
earthquake nearby, the temperature spiked to 600o C. But the volcano
has not erupted in 500 years. The outside wall of the inner crater has eroded
over time leaving steep beautiful piles of volcanic sand piled up on the
outside of it.
Looking down into Misti's crater.
There is a good, although steep, path along the rim to the summit, and
after I drop my pack I follow it…
slowly. I arrive at 10:10 AM (5853 m according to my GPS, 5821 m officially). A
bit later than I had hoped, but I am thrilled. Looking down is amazing. I can
see the city in the distance far below. I almost feel like the mountain should
be swaying in the wind, so high is the summit. I guess mountains do not sway.
The area of the camp, even though half way down, looks like it is in the
valley. From the camp it looked like I did not have far to go to the top.
Perspective!
After 20 minutes on the summit with the wind blowing hard, it is time to
go. I make my way back to the lower part of the rim, grab my pack and head down
the slope. I leap downhill, my shoes filling with sand but I do not care. The
fact that I cannot see the tent as I go down, means I have to leave the sand
chutes twice and climb up onto the rock where I can look for it. On the second
try I think I spot it but I am mistaken, and end up dropping down a bit below
the camp before I realize my mistake and then have to climb up a bit. When I
get there it is noon and it takes another 20 minutes to pack up. I am supposed
to be at the meeting place at 1 and I still have 1200 m to descend and a fair
bit of flat to cover. I descend the sand very quickly but then I am on a trail. My legs are very tired
and the trail has a lot of sand and loose rock. I slip repeatedly, and then I
fall. And then I fall again and break my hiking pole just after I pass a big
group coming up. And then again. OK, I decide it is better to slow down and
arrive in one piece. I still have several more minor falls. I arrive very tired
and very happy about 1:20, 10 minutes after, in the distance, I see Alberto
arrive.
On arrival, I immediately down another half liter of liquid. My headache
disappears on the way home, but I continue guzzling liquid for the rest of the
day, feeling that I am dehydrated. I look like I have been in a fight with my
head lumps and scrapes, and in a sense I have. I have a very sore elbow from
the fall at the bottom where I busted my bastón (hiking pole). However, I feel
great! When we get back to town, I
return the tent and mat. I ask there and elsewhere to try to find a replacement
section for my broken pole but such does not seem to exist. I consider taking
it into a welding shop and getting a replacement made, but after examing it I
doubt that this will be worth it, so I give it to the agency for spare parts. I
have never used a hiking pole before but I have to admit that it was helpful at
times, and I will get another at some point. I give my blanket, which I no
longer need now that I have a sleeping bag, to Sylvia at the hostal for her
really cute 3 year old daughter.
Food eaten in a day and a half: 2 oranges, 1 apple, 1.5 chocolate bars,
125 g of raisins and peanuts, 2-175 g canned fish, 8 bread buns, 100 g Edam
cheese (although I brought more). I brought 4.8 L liquid but only managed to
down 3.4 L.
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