Lessons from Acatenango

Acatenango Part 1:  What Just Happened?

 Climbing one of the volcanoes near Antigua was one of the attractions of visiting this area, and indeed of the Guatemalan highlands in general.  I was here in the days right after Christmas, so things were busy and all of my top choice companies for climbing trips were booked.  When my helpful hotel travel agency found a willing seller on the other end of the phone line, I happily signed up with who-knows-who and figured what the heck, it's all the same volcano, eh?

These trips all start early. Yesterday at this time I was asleep in WA, now at 345 I am wide awake and waiting at my hostel with my hotel guy (every place has a hotel guy at night), peering thru a little wooden hatch, listening for the inevitable rattle of tourist shuttle van tires on cobblestone.  We lurch off in the darkness, picking up two here, three there, until our little van is full.  I have to laugh when at one corner we nearly collide with another identical tourist shuttle, also careening from hotel to hotel--the only rigs out at this hour! With a van full of Aussies, several Americans, couple of Canadians and two Costa Ricans, we head out of town, merengue playing on the radio. The drive is at least an hour and a half, up windy mountain roads, so we all drift off.

I awake as I feel the van stopping, now turning around mid-street:  oh great, lost before we even get to the mountain!  It's still pitch black, and my breakfast sits waiting on my lap, for when we get closer to our start.  The van door slides open, and cold night mountain air rushes in.  In the darkness outside, we see two hooded and bundled men standing, and we hear dogs snarling and fighting in the darkness.  Who on earth are we picking up here?  My mind is not registering, even as the driver is pointing at us to get out, go with these men, this is the start of our hike, we are getting out now, good-bye!  I barely have enough wits to take my breakfast bag with me, and then we are standing on the street, in a sort of town, maybe, but we can't tell, and the van is gone. The men gesture, and we immediately start hiking, stumbling.  It's straight up, and the soil is loose and slippery. A few of us have cell phones for lights, but otherwise our group of 10 is spread between the two men, feeling our way in the darkness.  We must be at 8000 feet and I feel it immediately, gasping as I stagger uphill, trying to follow the cell phone light of the Costa Rican man. In the darkness to our sides, dead corn leaves rattle against each other. The snarling dogs yip in the night, herding.

It totally feels like we have all just been kidnapped. 

Sunrise comes just as we are reaching the upper limits of the corn fields.

We enter the forest at last, where the trail gets easier mainly because it's not as loose and eroded.  We are cold as we hike and colder when we stop.  I manage to woof down 4 breakfast bananas during breaks. 

The sunshine, when we reach more than halfway up, is welcome indeed!  Here we've entered the third mountain zone, the pine forest,probably around 10,000 feet. The soil is loose granular pumice again, and the dust rises in billows from our herd of 10. Volcan Agua rises now to our south. 

The final summit push. We're above 12,000 feet now and our group is dropping back like flies.  One girl vomits, and cheerfully proclaims this to be the cure for altitude sickness. "You just have to vomit, then you feel much better."  One girl, who we've been waiting for constantly, ends  up fainting, and the guide short-ropes her for a while, but she's the only one who does not make it.  The rest--wildly unprepared but gung-ho--soldier upward thru this last and deepest pumice section.  I'm feeling surprising good.  Behind me comes the Costa Rican guy, who was probably the next best prepared (aka he had a jacket, water, hat etc.)  Some of the Aussies were wearing tank tops and shorts, no other layers, and carrying a one L water bottle. 

Summit panorama to the south, Volcan Agua with Antigua at its foot.  See our trail coming up the ridge on the left. The summit is a broad, shallow bowl, edged by the ancient caldera ring. 

At last!  Volcan Fuego to the west! This active volcano belches out black smoke and gas every 20 minutes or so, causing quite the spectacle. As we were ascending and could not yet see it, Fuego let out a tremendous blast that shook our mountain.  We are coming, Fuego, we are coming! 

Me and Volcan Agua behind.  From the summit we could see a line of volcanoes marching south, and in the other direction they extended north as well.  As I headed to Lake Atitlan and then Xela, I would essentially be following this line of volcanoes north. 

Good one, Fuego!

Me and an active volcano, standing at 13, 043 feet and the highest I have ever stood on this fair planet. 

The broad bowl of Acatenango's summit --you can even camp up here!  Note the horses and mule on the skyline:  a group of about 14 local  Guatemalans were packing up (via horse and human) the gear and equipment needed to leap from the summit in para- and hang-gliders. They were very nice, and it was one of these guys who took the nice summit photos of me.

Acatenango Part 2:  It's True What They Say

Yup, all's well that ends well.  We slid and slithered down the pumice cone, with much hullabaloo and falling.  But everyone was happy (OK, except the one woman who fainted and never made it to the top and we waited FOREVER for her on the way up and FOREVER for her on the way down and I have no idea why why she didn't turn around at, oh, 9000 feet and call it good).    Our two guides (who didn't speak a lick of English) got us up and down the volcano just fine, thank you, and with plenty of expertise.  I got to practice real-live wilderness medicine when one of the Aussie's slipped and torqued her shoulder just a bit, probably a minor strain, and I got to make a real-live actual sling and swath out of a sweatshirt, just like I learned at my Wilderness EMT class, when you have to improvise your medical supplies because you are so remote (or so unprepared)!

And yes, here is one of our little dog companions, who actually followed us all the way up, from van to summit and back again.  I think she was actually looking after us.

Waiting for our van to pick us up again at the end of the day. We all rested on this cement wall, shaking dirt and grit out of our shoes. Even the little dog was whooped.  I was so hungry when I got back to town.  I was first off the bus (bonus!).  I am certain I was showered, changed, and out the door to dinner before the last person was dropped off.  I had crepes at my favorite restaurant with the view of Acatenango, and a big ice cream to celebrate.