Cotopaxi - the final adventure

My last weekend in Ecuador was an exclamation mark on my time here. I've mentioned before that my goals here were to serve, to learn, and to have an adventure. This weekend, I secured my success in the "adventure" category as I scaled the tallest active volcano in the world, Cotopaxi.

On Saturday morning, Dan, Priscila, and I were joined by Swissman Phillipe as we were picked up by our guide service and brought to the parking lot at 15,000 feet, about 1,000 feet below the refuge where we would be spending the day. We packed up our gear and food in our bags and took off for the refuge. Just that 1,000 feet was tough. I was a bit worried. We had spent the night before at 10,500 feet to try to begin to get acclimated to the altitude, but I knew it would be tough. I had a long night ahead of me.

The refuge was an interesting place, where about 20 people plus guides were staying the afternoon, anticipating the night's trek. We spent a little bit of time that afternoon learning how to use our crampons and mountaineering axes before dinner. After dinner, we were told to go to sleep. I went out and watched the sunset (and took a bunch of pictures), and then went up to the bunks and tried to sleep.

I couldn't. I laid in my sleeping bag from 7pm to about 10pm without a wink of sleep. I think I did get at least a little sleep, though, between 10 and 11:45, when we got up and got ready. We had a small "breakfast," and then donned our gear. It was then that we found out that our guide service had forgotten our harnesses. Oh, great! What does that mean! It apparently didn't affect our guides too much. We took our place last in line to leave.

The weather was gorgeous. There was not a cloud in the sky as we embarked at 1am, the path being lit by a full moon. In fact, we were all wearing headlamps, but we mostly didn't need them since the moon was so bright. It was absolutely gorgeous. Praise the Lord for this amazing gift!

The trip was difficult. Almost immediately, we had to put on our crampons and hold our axes in our hands as we were hiking up snow and ice. The incline ranged from about 30 degrees to 60. The most difficult part for me was trying to catch my breath. Especially as we neared the summit, I felt myself gasping for the bitter cold oxygen-deprived air.

We were split into two groups of 2 with one guide for each group. Both of our guides were quite determined men. They pushed us hard, and we were regularly passing other groups. The only main problem was with our equipment—our crampons kept falling off. Several times, we passed a group only then to have something break and end up right back behind them as we were fixing it.

Despite our troubles, we left last and still arrived at 6:15am, the third group that morning to reach the summit, 19,347 feet (5897 meters) above sea level. It was incredible. The feelings of despair and impossibility immediately left, and we reveled in the fruits of our accomplishment. The view of both the crater and the surrounding landscape being lit by the rising sun was breathtaking. I simply could not stop taking pictures. From the top, I recognized Sangay, Tungurahua (with smoke rising from it), El Altar (where we had gone our first weekend), Chimborazo, Antisana, Cayambe (a snowcapped mountain lying on the equator), as well as many other smaller peaks.

I felt our arrival was an incredible accomplishment. This was certainly the most physically demanding activity I have ever done. It was great to spend my last weekend in Ecuador with friends, accomplishing such a difficult task.