Climb Reports for OSAT CASE '97
This page contains several reports in different formats concerning our climb. We intend that most if not all of the participants in the expedition will write up some observations, recollections, critiques, or whatever from the climb. Some of these will be published in the OSAT Yodel, but others may appear here but nowhere else. Right now we have:
Upon checking with other climbers at Puenta del Inca after our arrival there, we determined that the Polish Glacier was not in condition for us to attempt it. After five consecutive dry winters, the glacier is basically an ice climb requiring much more equipment and experience than we brought to the mountain. Only two groups had successfully completed the route this season through then end of January: one in a 19 hour summit day, and the other a 15 hour day with a forced bivouac on or near the summit before descent. So we changed our plan and decided to try the traverse of the north side of the mountain from the base of the glacier, to join the normal route near 20,000 ft.
Our climb went exactly according to schedule until we established our Camp II at 19,000 ft. The weather was on a cycle of 1-2 good days and 2-3 poor days throughout our approach and move to this camp. Our move day to and rest day at Camp II were marginal, with winds, blowing snow, and the summit frequently obscured by clouds and blowing snow. After our second night at 19,000, we awoke to a clear day, and with our spirits and health in good repair, we started across the Penitente (3-foot high ice pinnacle) fields toward our high camp at the junction of the Falso de Polacos and Normal routes. This move, about 1,300 ft of elevation gain in a bit over a mile, under normal conditions would have taken 3-4 hours, but the poor weather of the previous days filled in the gaps between the ice pinnacles with spindrift, and other areas were filled in with older snow, some of which was consolidated and supported the climbers and other of which did not. The traverse ended up taking seven hours, and by the time we were setting our high camp, the weather turned bad again.
We spend two nights at 20,300, with the wind more-or-less constantly blowing, and we never got a view up the mountain of more than a couple of hundred yards from this location. We took three days of food and supplies to this high camp, and had left one tent with extra food and supplies at 19,000, but deteriorating conditions in the Penitente fields made it impossible to return to retrieve these. On February 4 the weather was still bad-although the wind was not as bad as the previous day, it was still blowing and visibility had not improved. Thus, we were forced to abandon our 19,000 supplies and retreat down the Ruta Normal.
During our descent we found that most of the upper mountain had been abandoned, with only small remaining groups at the Berlin and Nido camps. During our four nights at 19,000 and 20,300 ft., at least one group had required rescue below us at Berlin camp, and several other groups of climbers had abandoned attempts and retreated back to the base camps on both the Polish and Normal sides of the mountain. The OSAT Aconcagua team returned safely to the trailhead at Puenta del Inca on February 5, disappointed in not attaining the summit but proud of our accomplishments nonetheless.
Roy and Rik returned to Seattle Feb 7-8, and the remainder of the team is spending some time in Chile before returning later this week or early next week.
Actual Climb Itenerary (very close to our plan until Feb 2)
and weather conditions on the mountain during our climb.
Aconcagua S.P. by Rik
When I sat down to write about our climb in Argentina,
I had a difficult time relating the day-to-day story of the expedition,
perhaps because my journal for the climb is up at Camp 2! ("If
you can't find it, it must be at Camp 2!") So I'll leave
a documentary description to other members of the expedition,
to our slide shows, or to the web site. Instead, I'm compelled
to share with Yodel readers a more philosophical reflection of
OSAT CASE '97. Thanks for your prayers, it's good to be home.
Rik.
We began every climb day in Argentina with the Serenity
Prayer, shoulder to shoulder, arm in arm, boot toes touching:
symbols of our togetherness, of our reliance on each other. During
our weeks in the Andes, the words took on new meaning.
God, grant me the serenity...
Its impossible to go on an undertaking as big as
Aconcagua and not come away with important revelations. For me,
the most surprising was how little time for serenity I had on
the expedition. With rest days planned every 3-4 days, I envisioned
laying around, drinking in the beauty, soaking up the grandeur
of the central Andes, between the days of hour upon hour of physical
effort. The reality is there is always something to be done, even
during rest days, be it fetching water, preparing meals, fixing
equipment, maintaining health, caring for personal hygiene, socializing
with other climbers, or working out decisions within the group.
I found but a single moment of quiet contemplation in the entire
two weeks of climbing--that moment remains as an anti-symbol of
the expedition. On our rest day at the Plaza Argentina base camp
I walked out on the moraine overlooking the desolate plain of
the upper Relinchos. The stark expanse of nothingness wound slowly
and climbed gently toward the eastern abutments of our goal. Ten
days later I envied the defeated British glacier climbers who,
in searching for something unusual to do when the Polish Glacier
became an unrealistic goal, exited the Polish approach route by
way of this valley, up and over the southeast shoulder of the
mountain and down to the foot of Aconcagua's unimaginable 10,000
ft. south wall. Did it help them cope with not having even slept
within a vertical mile of their real goal? Did they find serenity
in that silent, lonely valley?
...to accept the things I cannot change...
I'm a planner. In the six to eight months leading up to the expedition, never a day passed without Aconcagua entering my thoughts. The only time I've experienced anticipation spread over so great a calendar period was awaiting the birth of our children--and even that anticipation did not consume my idle time as completely as did this climb. I knew my visions of what would happen on the mountain were imperfect, but I also knew the more I played out different scenarios, the better equipped I would be for whatever we faced. And yet, in all those months, I never envisioned not making the summit. We had too many alternatives, too many backups, too much confidence, too many dreams, to entertain the concept of spending four nights 3-1/2 miles above sea level just one hard day's hike from the summit, barely more elevation gain than a Tiger Mountain, and yet turning down the mountain without that coveted summit photo.
Realization that the dream would be unfulfilled came
to us one at a time during the forty hours we spent, five of us
in a single tent at 20,300 feet. We talked about our alternatives,
aired our frustrations, discussed our favored solution to the
situation we found ourselves in, but for the most part we did
not share with one another the particular point at which we individually
acknowledged that "up" was no longer an option. Some
clung to the hope for success longer than others. I spend much
of our second night there lying awake thinking of how I would
phrase my leadership decision to abandon the mountain, but consensus
was reached the next morning without my leadership. The team silently
acknowledged that the mountain was in charge. No matter how much
we might wish for a different reality, we were not in control.
In praying silently or aloud, alone or as a group, we accepted
that a Higher Power was determining the fate of OSAT CASE '97,
we were there simply to play the roles cast for us.
...the courage to change the things I can...
What we really control is our responses; responses to the familiar and expected as well as responses to the unknown and unanticipated. This climb taught me how little you get to know people on weekend climbs, and how much more complex and interesting individuals are when you really live with them for a more extended period. Each of my fellow OSAT CASE '97 climbers taught me new things about themselves, showed me strengths I didn't know they had, skills they hadn't previously shared. We all changed in the way we related to each other. The first of my goals for this trip was to come home safely, the second was that each member return with greater regard for each other than when we left. Happily, both of these goals were met.
Our response to things familiar may be the most difficult
thing to change. It requires the most courage, because we have
defined ourselves to others by our previous responses. We fear
that a change may be interpreted as a weakness in our self-definition.
I've defined myself as a mountaineer, but the biggest climb I'd
been on was less than one week long. I have to redefine myself,
and my love of the mountains. I found that the two weeks required
to go from 8,000 feet to 20,000 feet required something more than
what I have thought of as mountaineering. This doesn't diminish
my love for mountaineering, it redefines it. I'll never know if
reaching the summit would have left me with the same conclusion,
but my response to big mountain mountaineering now is much more
cautious than before. My enthusiasm is tempered with the realization
that to take two weeks to climb a mountain, and however long it
takes to prepare for such an adventure, may well be an investment
I'm not willing to make for the expected payoff, especially when
the probability of success hinges on so many things over which
I have no control.
...and the wisdom to know the difference.
Yes, I am wiser today. But wisdom comes more from a knowledge of what we don't know than from certainty of what we do know. For every piece of knowledge I learned about myself, my companions, the sport, and the mountain, I learned twice again as much about how little I know of each of them. Knowledge, like the mountain, is finite; wisdom, like the mountains, is infinite. "No end is visible, or even conceivable, to this kingdom of adventure."
Aconcagua Trip Report, by Lisa M.
Our journey began with a wonderful send-off from Sea-Tac airport. The support from our families, friends and OSATers was very inspiring and heart warming. The flight to Dallas, connection to Santiago, arrival in Chile and the entire first portion of our trip went perfectly.
Our first major task was to locate a Collectivo to take us to Puente del Inca. Although this sounds relatively easy, it became an all day event. Picture the five of us wandering around a strange town, myself being afraid to use my Spanish because I did not think that I spoke the language very well, none of us really knowing where to go. We wandered around the city for 3-4 hours before having any success.
Once in Puente del Inca (8,924 ft), we checked out the town which consisted of a Hosteria, a couple of restaurants, a post office (that had no stamps) and one row of vendors selling souvenirs and trinkets. Most of our time was spent repackaging and reorganizing our food (which to my surprise took several hours to complete!), arranging our mules, white gas and transportation to the trail head. We did manage to get in a day hike to assist with acclimatization.
Finally, after 2 days in Puente del Inca, we embarked on our climb. Our first problem was encountered before we even left for the trail head: my camera was stolen. I was very upset over this, but we still had four more cameras in the group so it was not too devastating.
The approach through the Vacas valley was very hot the first two days, but the scenery was very intriguing. The hills show signs of how they were pushed and twisted upwards and it is very fascinating. However, the first few days were trying both emotionally and physically. The information we had regarding distances and times to camps was incorrect and it seemed as if we were always going farther than we planned. It is very frustrating to think it will only take 4 hours to get to your camp then it really takes 7 hours. But on the bright side, the moon was shining very brightly at night and the Southern sky was breath taking with all the stars shining in different constellations with which I am not familiar.
On our third day, we traveled to Plaza Argentina (13,780 ft.). About halfway to this camp, the sky became dark, it got cold, it began to snow then the wind began to blow. This continued until late in the evening. Our first experience with trying to work our stoves in adverse weather. It took a little coaxing, but we finally got them to work.
The following day was our first rest day (if you can call it that). Never having done a climb of this magnitude before, I did not know that a rest day was really just a day that you were not going anywhere. My rest day was spent reorganizing my food, organizing loads for the first carry, drying out clothing, cooking, boiling water, etc. I never realized that there was so much work to be done.
Our fifth day on the trail began with some bad luck. The wind was gusting very strongly and during one gust, a tent pole on the large tent snapped and ripped through the fly. We managed to replace the pole and patch the fly, but this kept us from starting at the time we wished for our first carry to Camp 1 (16,000 ft). The carry to Camp 1 was difficult. The wind was blowing very strongly and snow was flying everywhere. It was difficult to see at times due to the wind and snow. As we approached the camp, the wind seemed to get stronger and it literally blew me off my feet several times. Eventually I learned that the rumbling freight train sound I heard in the distance was the wind coming down the mountain. After figuring this out, I could then brace myself and prepared for the wind gusts, which at times seemed not to let up long enough for me to even take two steps.
The following day we moved to Camp 1 and it was very windy but it was not snowing. The climb to camp was just as difficult as the day before, and due to the weather, we did not get into camp until 5:30 PM and did not have both tents set up until 8:00 PM. At a time like this, when everyone is exhausted, it is very difficult to force yourself to boil water, make dinner and eat.
The following day was another rest day and this one turned out to be beautiful. It was warm and there was very little wind. We all laid around on the rocks like lizards soaking up the sun. At this point in the trip, I was really surprised at how much little things (such as washing up or combing out my hair) made a difference in my attitude. Still there was always water to obtain, food to be cooked, water to be boiled, loads to organize, etc.
The following day we moved our gear up to Camp 2 (19,000 ft) and this was a long trek. We were moving slow due to the altitude and it took us a long time to climb the 3,000 ft from Camp 1. Once again, it was windy at Camp 2, but my first view of the Polish Glacier was awesome. The glacier looked beautiful but at the same time it looked viscous and menacing. My only thought at this time was: tomorrow will be easier since my load should be lighter.
The following day we moved to Camp 2 after saying our good-byes to a group of British climbers that were on the same schedule as us. One of the most rewarding experiences of the climb for me was meeting people from all around the world and getting to know them. At Camp 2 it seemed strange not to have a headache. I have never camped that high before and it seemed so strange to be there.
The wind blew very hard all night and the tent shook and rattled so much that I did not get very much sleep. Our rest day at Camp 2 was not any better. The wind was blowing very hard and it was snowing. We stayed in our tents all day and cooked in our vestibules. I think I only left the tent twice that day, but when I did, I could see that from the top of the mountain all the way down to the valley it was socked in with clouds.
The following day the weather broke and the sky was clear. We decided to pack up our summit gear and take only what we needed over to the normal route. Our plan was to camp where the traverse meets the normal route, then summit from there the following day. The traverse was supposed to take 3-4 hours but it took us 7 hours to complete. The penitentes that we had to travel through had filled up with a fine powdery snow that was difficult to travel through. It was anywhere from knee deep to waist deep. We tried to travel on crusted areas, but that was very slick and you never knew when you would break through and be waist deep in snow. I had a difficult time making this traverse and was cold and exhausted by the time we reached our camp (20,300 ft). The weather had turned bad once again when were about 3/4th of the way to the camp. We had only taken the large tent, so we all crowded in as best as we could.
The following morning, the group prepared to make a summit attempt. I chose to stay at camp because I did not sleep at all that night and I did not feel strong. No sooner had the guys walked out of the tent did they come back in. The weather was just too bad for anyone to go anywhere. We sat in the tent which was shaking fiercely as gusts came down the mountain. It snowed and the wind blew all day and all night. There was very little visibility and it was very cold outside. Bill said he recorded -20 on his thermometer once when he went outside! We waited and discussed our options.
We waited out the second night in our tent. It seemed as if the weather was getting worse. We had made the decision that we had to go directly down the mountain. There was no safe way we could return to our previous camp and retrieve our gear. We had talked about this a lot while we waited on the weather. By this time, we were not eating very much, our stoves were not working very well and we were running out of food. As devastating as it was to lose all our gear, I knew we had made the safe choice in deciding to head straight down the mountain.
We descended down the mountain, and after about 3,000 ft we began to get below the clouds and the bad weather. We continued on down the mountain to Plaza de Mulas (13,700 ft.). All the way down, everyone we encountered told us stories of how bad it was at the camps below us and how tents were literally being blown away Looking back on the situation, we were lucky to get down when we did!
At Plaza de Mulas, we stayed at the Hotel Refugio. It was so cold inside the hotel, none of the snow that had come from our backpacks melted over night. We could see our breath in the room and I wore more clothes (including my down parka) to bed that night than I had at 20,000 ft!
The last day of our journey was a long 17 mile hike out to Puente del Inca. The weather was warming up a little but the top of the mountain was still in the bad weather. I never was able to see the top of the mountain the entire way out that day. It was a long day, starting at 11:00 am and not returning to the Hosteria at Puente del Inca until 9:00 PM. My knees were incredibly sore and forced me to go very slow the last 6 miles. Every step I took was very painful and I could feel something in my knees grinding every time I took a step. Back at the Hosteria, I took only enough time to make my hair look presentable then I went to dinner. Nothing on the entire trip could match how well the steak dinner tasted that night.
The trip was a success in my eyes since we all came back alive and with no major injuries. I learned so much about climbs of this magnitude, but more importantly, I learned about myself, what I need to do on climbs such as this, and what I am really made of.
Anyone up for going back in a few years?
A Woman's Perspective , by Lisa M.
Even during our training weekends, I wondered if I would be strong enough to carry my share of the weight and keep up with the guys. Being the only female, this was a concern for me. I knew I was strong, but was I strong enough to endure the 2 weeks of climbing?
As we embarked on our journey, I knew that I was doing well. I felt good and I was able to keep pace with the team. During the hike in, I was able to enjoy the fascinating terrain. The hills showed signs of the twisting and pushing from the earth that forced them into their present shape. At night, the moon was shining brightly and the stars were sparkling in the constellations of the Southern sky with which I am not familiar. The snow on the higher part of the mountain was like a white blanket in the desert.
Many of the memories I have are of the people I met on the climb. I received a lot of attention from the British group that was on the same schedule as us. I met up with friends who were coming down as we were going up, and the muleteers all spoke with me or wanted their pictures taken with me. There are some advantages to being one of the only females on a trip such as this! I met several people from different countries and had the opportunity to learn about them and their lives even during brief conversations.
I also learned more about the people on our team. Surprisingly, there is very little time to spend alone on this type of climb. Trips to get water, assisting with meals, setting up camp as well as discussions on the trail afforded me the opportunity to learn about my fellow OSATers.
As the climb progressed, the climbing became more difficult due to weather conditions. I began to realize how much emotional and physical strength it takes to complete a climb of this magnitude. I learned a lot about myself and my climbing skills. Simple things such as keeping warm, drying clothes or taking care of personal needs took more thought than normal since I was in a different environment and at a higher elevation that what I have climbed in before.
At nights when we were in camp and talked as a group in our meeting or in our tents, I gained a greater insight to men which is something I did not expect to gain from this climb. Understanding what they had to say, how they felt, our what they thought we should do was interesting. At times I felt very alone because my thoughts were so different from theirs.
I had thought that this trip would afford me the opportunity to enjoy the beauty of the mountain and have time for meditation and contemplation. This was not the case because there was always work to be done, even on rest days.
As the weather became worse, I would lay awake at night in my tent, scared that the wind would rip it apart, wondering how cold it would be outside when I went to the bathroom, or if there was a semi-private spot to even go to the bathroom. At times there was no privacy at all on the mountain. I just had to do my business and hope that no one else would come out of the tent or no one would look my direction.
As we hiked along, we began coming up with what I have called "the Ten Commandments of Climbing". I started recording these statements as a way to lighten the mood and brighten our spirits when they started to get low. I think they summarize our experience fairly well. The Ten Commandments are:
When people first started to ask me if the climb was good, I had to pause for a few moments then respond that "yes it was a good climb". Having not made the summit, it is sometimes difficult to tell people that it was a successful climb. Although I am sickened by the thought of having to eat another freeze dried meal or a Cliff Bar, I had a really good experience during the climb. I met people and got to know them, I enjoyed the beauty of the area (not as much as I would have liked to), I learned a lot about gear during my shopping sprees prior to the climb, I learned that if I do the preparation and keep a strong mental attitude, I can do just about anything I decide to do. I learned that being the only female has definite advantages (that piece of honeydew melon that the Brits traded me for 5 minutes of conversation at Casa Piedra tasted wonderful!), but it also has disadvantages (women, you know what I mean!!) but that it doesn't have to hold me back. With determination and good emotional strength, being the only female doesn't have to scare me and it doesn't have to stop me from participating in climbs of this magnitude.
T'was the night before January 19th (departure to Aconcagua) and the bags were all packed with care.
My stomach was churning with delight and fear. My heart beat I could hear.
When what should appear in my dreams that night but the faces of those I hold so dear,
JoAnne, Mom, Dad, Brothers and Friends alike. They all wished me success, but be careful down there!
And when I awoke, my purpose was clear.
Have a great trip but play it safe, even when the
summit is near!
After a great OSAT send off at SeaTac, our group arrived as planned in Santiago, Chile in 80 degree sunny, summer weather. We started to work as a team immediately and this team work continued though out the trip. At our team 12 step meetings we all had a chance to discuss what was going on, how we felt and what we hoped to accomplish. I wanted to stand on top of the mountain, but not at the risk of anyone's safety. This was a common goal.
When Senor Grajales dropped us off at the Puenta de Vacas trailhead (7900'), I looked around and realized how lucky I felt be teamed up with Bill, Rik, Lisa & Rod. What a great group of climbers! The days before were filled with planning and organizing the gear and mules. It appeared as though we had planned for everything. Surely nothing could stop us from reaching the 22,834' summit.
As our march started up the Vacas Valley, I felt excitement and fear at the same time. After a few step we ran into a descending Summits guided expedition. Among the guides was fellow OSAT member, Jeff M. I was a bit surprised that Jeff didn't acknowledge our presence but he explained that he had lost his contact lens and could hardly see the trail.
After a few hours in the hot sun, we were passed by a guided British expedition also on their way up to the first approach camp and ranger station at Las Lenas. According to the guide book, Las Lenas is 5.5 miles up the trail. When we reached that point, there was no camp, no ranger station and no sign of our British comrades. After wandering around for more than an hour, we realized that the guide book must be wrong. The mules and muleteers passing us confirmed this error. We finally arrived at Las Lenas feeling tired and demoralized. This was just the first day, how are we ever going to get to the top at this pace!
Earlier that day, when the British expedition passed us, we noticed that they carried light day packs. Our plan was to carry all of our gear necessary for the first three days, Tents, sleeping bags, stoves, fuel, food....even ice axes! Fifty to sixty pounds each. We thought that we would not see our mules until we reached Base Camp at the end of the third day, but as it turned out, the mules stay at the same camps we did. And here we were carrying heavy loads and wearing ourselves out, while everyone else was going light with extra mules.
On the second day, we experienced the same thing. The British moved way out ahead while we toiled in hot sun humping our seemingly unnecessarily, heavy loads. We were the MULES! What irony.
At the second camp, we realized that there are some disadvantages to having mules so close to camp... mule shit. Mule shit everywhere. In the water, all over the ground, even floating in the air. The bright spot about this second camp was it gave us our first good view of our objective, the Summit. We also had a chance to meet several climbers from the Northwest and pickup some valuable information on the route and possible camp sites. We learned that these groups had ten straight days of good weather. We wondered if this would continue or were we headed into the opposite weather trend.
While preparing for the climb, I had read somewhere that on long, hard climbs it is helpful to have a mantra chant to relieve the monotony of the "breath, step, breath" routine. Not having any meditation training and not remembering how a mantra chant should sound, I developed my own chant. As our third day began with a river crossing at Casa Piedra, I looked up the Relinchos Valley toward Plaza Argentina, Base Camp (13,400'). This would be our first big elevation day. A gain of over 3000' up a narrow valley. Seeing the switchbacks, I realized now was the time to start my personal mantra... Van Morrison's chorus to the song Wild Night. On the higher steeper, slopes I switched to a more aggressive chant; singing parts of Rage Against the Machine's, Killing in the Name Of.
As we worked our way up to Base Camp, my pace slowed considerably. The day before we were told not to go slow.... but to go extremely slow. I was happy to follow this advice. The route finally flattened out as a first of many storms moved in. But as I pulled into Plaza Argentina, the weather cleared and we all made it in good spirits with the first leg of our expedition behind us. The next day was a rest day.
One thing we all soon learned is that a rest day is not actually a day to rest... it just happens to be a day that you don't have to carry a load. We were busy getting water, cooking, repairing gear, organizing loads for the next day's carry, socializing with other climbers, and taking photos. Since the mules had turned around to head for the green grass of Casa Piedra, we now had about 500 pounds to carry up the mountain. The next day was the first half of our double carry to Camp One at 16.000'.
The previous night, another storm had blown through dumping snow. Now the wind was blowing it all around. The winds were so strong it literally blew some of us off our feet. I slowly worked my way up the last 800' to Camp One. My head was pounding and breathing was labored. I soon began coughing. After dumping our load, I quickly headed down toward Base Camp. As my coughing continued, I spit up something from my lungs and looked at the result in the snow. Oh no! It looked pink. I knew that that was a sure sign of Pulmonary Edema. My trip was over. I was shocked and stunned with the knowledge that this would kill me if I didn't descend immediately . I then realized that I was sucking on a Cherry flavored Jolly Ranger! I wasn't dying after all. The pink color was dye from the candy not blood. Whew! As we descended back to Plaza Argentina, the coughing and headache decreased. I was starting to feel back to normal again.
Our move day to Camp One was about the same as the carry day, just no more HAPE (High Altitude Pulmonary Edema) scares. Putting up the tents was quite a chore. The high winds and lack of oxygen pushed the limits of my ability to gather rocks to anchor the tent. After a fitful night listening to the howling winds, we awoke to a calm, sunny day. It was down right balmy. Our British friends soon arrived, now one day behind our schedule. Just a few days earlier I had thought they would be way out ahead of us and now we were moving steadily up while they rested for extra days. Does this remind any of us of the Turtle and the Hare?
Later on in the rest day, another storm moved in, but the skies had cleared by the next morning. It wasn't even windy. Surprisingly, the some of the stronger British climbers skipped a rest day and once again went roaring past us up to the next camp at the base of the Polish Glacier (19,000') I was suprised at how warm it was on our way up and when we looked to the summit we could see that this would probably be a very good summit day.
The next day we discovered that a fellow Northwest climber we had meet in early January at Mt Rainier had indeed summited and described to us the windless, sunny summit. We hoped that we would share in his luck on our summit day.
Again, the job of setting up tents at 19,000' took up all our energy. When we finally had camp set up, we collapsed into the tents. This was an early night to bed after cooking in the tent vestibule. At 9:00PM that night, I went out into the gathering storm to answer nature's call and noticed two climbers traversing toward our camp after what was probably a summit day. They were moving SO SLOW. Even at that distance, I could feel their tired agony stumbling toward camp.
With the next day as a rest day, we slept (Sleep? At this altitude?) that night for nearly 14 hours. I went out to gather snow for breakfast the next morning and said hello to some Spanish speaking climbers next door. They appeared to be repairing their tent and remarked about the strong winds that had blasted through out the night. As I looked out across the moraine to the other camps, there was also a lot of activity. It wasn't until I looked out later that afternoon that I realized that all the other climbers had evacuated the mountain and we were all alone up here. What did they know that we didn't? Were we in danger?
Rod, Bill and I decided maybe we should try to use our handheld radios to call up the ranger station for a weather report. This was futile because we couldn't speak much Spanish and the ranger spoke very little English. The winds were still blowing very hard and we stayed in the tents all day. The large tent fly was ripping in places as I leaned against the wall as winds battered our position. Two emergency repairs had to be made. In fact, we could hear the wind roaring towards us like freight train. This gave us a few seconds to brace the sides of the tent with our bodies. Since Rik and Lisa were in the other tent, we didn't know how they were feeling, but Rod was slightly (and rightly) worried. He even wrote in his journal..." We are F_ _ _ ed." At times, I secretly agreed with Rod, but I didn't want to admit it unless the tent actually blew down the mountain.
As we woke the next morning, the winds had slowed down and the skies were pretty clear. This was another move day. This time we took only one tent and traveled as light as possible to our third camp at 20,300' on the North side of the mountain near the Normal Route. We had been told that this traverse would take 3-4 hours. But with the snow filled Penitentes and ice blocking our way, we it took us seven hours of hard, strenuous climbing. Needless to say, erecting the tent was once again extremely difficult.
All that night we were crammed together in the large tent; melting snow for water & food. Tomorrow was our summit day. We awoke at about six, had breakfast and waited for daylight. When we finally got out and looked up toward the summit it was clouded over, we could only see a few hundred feet and the wind was blowing hard. No summit today. As disappointed as we were; we were glad to have shelter from the sever winds ( 40-50 mph estimated) and bitterly cold temperatures (-20 degrees F at night).
Another night of no sleep (third night in a row) and we resigned ourselves to the reality that not only was a summit out of the question due to weather, but that we would have to leave our gear behind at Camp Two. Our decent would have to be by the Normal Route. We knew that trying to traverse back in awful weather and with weakened climbers would be dangerous and possibly fatal if someone should get hurt. There was no search and rescue available.
I felt very weak on the decent, probably a combination of lack of sleep, lack of food and too many days in the 'Death Zone' of high altitude. After going down about a thousand feet we realized that the weather was above us now and it was clear below. The first sign of life was at Berlin Camp (approx 19,000') these folks did not appear to be going up but more than likely down if the storm above worsened. The next stop was at Nido De Condores camp, we heard stories of tents blowing away and emergency evacuation back down to the Normal Route's base camp, Plaza De Mulas. All this time we had been several thousand feet up the mountain hoping to summit. As we looked back up at the cloud covered, windy summit ridge, we felt confirmed that our decision to descend when we did was the smart thing to do.
Plaza de Mulas resembled an Old West mining town. Lawlessness and small business people selling cokes, beers and even dinners. We choose to sleep in the Hotel. Another hour of walking, even up hill for another 500'. The Hotel had no heat or running water, but it did have beds and hot meals. What a luxury to drink a $6 liter of juice.
The next day we marched 17-18 grueling miles back to Punta de Inca. The dinner, shower and bed that night never felt so good. Civilization at last, after two weeks of freeze dried meals and lumpy sleeping bags. Looking back at the summit that day, we could see that this would not be a summit day either since the entire top was covered in clouds. This confirmed our decision once again.
The next day found us on our way back to Santiago,Chile
where Lisa's husband Bob was waiting to welcome us. Rik and I
returned on the next possible fight home to Seattle while Bill,
Rod, Lisa & Bob visited the coast for a few days.
That may not be the end of this trip, however. The
mountain still awaits me. Any takers?