Climbing Cotopaxi Volcano

Image courtesy of Wikipedia

This is the story of the one and only time I was defeated by altitude. But first, some background.

The central highland part of Ecuador is dominated by the Andes Mountain Range. Much of Ecuador is pockmarked with volcanoes, the tallest of which is inactive Chimborazo, at 6,310 m above sea level. Not only is Chimborazo the tallest point in the country, it is also considered the spot on the earth’s surface farthest from the centre of the earth, given that it is almost on the equator where the earth is widest.

Ecuador’s next highest point, active Cotopaxi volcano (5,897 m), is the world’s highest active volcano…and one hell of a way to spend your vacation. Trekkers from around the world come to climb both mountains, each capped with glaciers, and neither climb is to be taken lightly.

The climb up Cotopaxi starts with some acclimatization—at least a couple of nights are a minimum to let your body adjust to the altitude. Really, as much time as you can afford at altitude is best, as anyone who has done high-altitude mountaineering (or even done the Inca Trail) will tell you. Typically, a night is spent in the park surrounding the volcano, around 3800m, then another night at the last refuge at 4800m.

Hikers must leave early in the morning (well, actually more like the middle of the night), about 1:00 am or so, so as to have enough time to climb, summit and return before the warmth of the sun softens the ice making the descent more dangerous. Almost the whole climb is done on glacier, necessitating ice axes and crampons. This is not a light easy vacation stroll.

And so I come to my own personal story of defeat. Truth be told, our Ecuadorian guide saw it coming.

I had gone to bed the night before with a splitting headache (always a bad sign at 4800 metres), and when I woke up at midnight things hadn’t really improved much. Our guide noticed me popping aspirin as I got suited up, and shook his head. “Eso no sirve.” That ain’t gonna help, man. He looked worried.

Things started well, but by 4:00am or so things were not going so well. It was still dark, and my feet had gotten so heavy that each crampon-weighted step took a good 5 or 6 seconds. Step, breathe, two , three, four… My head felt like it was about to explode. Finally, with a good four hours to go to the summit alone, one of my fellow climbers shone his headlamp in my face.

“You look like shit.”

It was at that moment I remembered—I was on vacation. I’d made it to 5550 m, higher than I’d ever been. And dying on vacation because I was too stubborn seemed like a pretty stupid way to go. And so I remembered the lessons learned from John Krakauer’s Into Thin Air, and I turned back, to climb another day.

My own defeat notwithstanding, Cotopaxi is gorgeous—an almost perfect cone, and whether you climb it or not, it’s worth a visit to the area. One great way to do this is to mountain bike down from the highest point you can reach by road, at about 4600m; there are tons of tour operators in Quito who can set you up with this.