Wednesday, November 28, 2007
Illiniza Norte: SUMMIT
Wahoo! My first Ecuadorian volcano - in the bag. The story should be documented, since this was an eventful climb, though thankfully not an epic. Warning: the details could be boring!
Last night I cornered Patricio with a "so what's going on with the plans for Illiniza Norte, Cotopaxi etc" and we figured it out after some discussion of costs, which seem to face inflationary pressures. He quickly made arrangements for a guide the next day (that'd be today) to Illiniza Norte, then a rest day, then two days for Cotopaxi, another rest day in Riobamba, two days for Chimborazo, and then more rest.
So this morning at 7 AM I was picked up on the way to Illiniza Norte. We were to meet the guide near the mountain itself - he's a local, whatever.
First things first, breakfast. The driver took me to a roadside restaurant that charged More-Than-Quito prices, but what the $7 got you was more food than any human should rightly be able to eat, especially when there are children starving in this very country. Specifically, $7 got you fresh baked bread, a vat of jam, a huge chunk of cheese, and what must have been 5 eggs cooked in a casserole. I twas more than I could eat, but no complaints; a big objective ahead, and I need fuel! Incidentally, it was made clear to me that I am to pay for the driver's breakfast too - and this is a departure from what I saw with my jeep driver in Tibet, Dawa, who not only dined and hotelled separately, but would shyly refuse to let us pay for his dinner, or even sit at our table!
We met the guide around 9 AM. I was expecting some grizzled mountaineer. I got... a 20 year old, wet behind the ears. I figure, OK, this is a routine climb and he ought to know the route since it is climbed so often. On this count, he did not disappoint.
A word about Illiniza Norte (5126m if memory serves). This is the northern volcano, sitting majestically behind its sister Illiniza Sur - google them, you'll see. Illiniza Sur is a technical ice climb, very committing, and requires an overnight at the Illiniza refugio - I was not prepared to do this with an unknown partner (guide or otherwise), especially given I have what amounts to zero ice climbing skills myself. Norte, on the other hand, is a pleasant scramble climbed from the refugio, and can be done as a day trip - which is what I did. You start off at a parking lot a few km away, at an altitude of around 3800m. The summit is 1300m higher!
Now, people will say that Illiniza Norte is easy, even trivial. These people need to get a brain adjustment. Not all scrambles are trivial, and I would argue that any reasonably remote mountain, at altitude, should be treated with respect. Illiniza Norte is not technical, meaning you don't need to bring a whole lead rack and belay every pitch. However, it is still physically demanding and committing. "Easy" should be reserved for climbing to the top of Mt. Chicopee in Kitchener and not to a 5000m peak in Ecuador.
Back to the climb. Carlos (aka Carlito) & I had a two-phase climb. First, reach the refugio at the col between the two Illinizas. Second, climb Norte, descending by a different route than what we took up (more on this later). We got started at around 10:15 AM. The going, at least for me, was fairly tough. The refugio is at approx. 4600m, meaning there's an 800m gain in elevation over some distance, and of course this is happening at altitude to a person still acclimitizing. Unfortunately, there's no way to acclimatize without subjecting yourself to this sort of experience, and I was frankly embarassed by my pitiful lung capacity and (shall we say) modest ability to walk uphill for more than a few minutes.
We made it to the refugio at 12:30 or so, meaning we took a little over two hours to cover distance my guidebook suggests is a 3hr walk. I was pleased. Carlito made sandwiches. We hit the road a few minutes past 1 PM.
Now, the Illinza Norte is effectively a ridge haul. You climb up a ways, attain the ridge, and stay on the ridge. In your way are three pinnacles that need to be climbed over or around - over being the non-suicidal way to do things. After the third pinnacle, you cross the scarily-named Paso de Muerte ("Pass of Death") and finally climb up to the true summit. You're basically doing 4th class scrambling for most of this, with the odd bit of walking on flat terrain. Most of it is steep, but the exposure is quite minimal. The rock is completely solid, almost nothing is loose anywhere, and there are tons of holds. I've got nothing against scrambling and I'd characterize the climbing on Illinza Norte as seriously fun.
To descend, you start heading lower directly from Paso de Muerte and thus do not have to repeat the ridge haul. This is a significant improvement over the logistics of the Mt. Victoria climb I did this summer. There, the ridge was very long, extremely narrow in places, horribly exposed all along, and a fall would be fatal. Did I mention that we did that particular climb unbelayed, unroped, didn't-take-the-harness-out-of-my-pack? Scared yet? I was.
Problem #1 on the climb was the weather. Quito was shrouded in fog overnight, which cleared by the time we got near Illiniza - and the views of the mountains are gorgeous - pictures coming, I promise. Unfortunately, the cobalt skies did not last, and by the time we got to the refugio, the mountain was clouding over. We went anyway.
Fast forward through some climbing, and lets pretend we're in the vicinity of the 3rd pinnacle - shortly before the Paso de Muerte. Percipitation begins, specifically ice pellets. We may be near the equator, but we're also at 5000m, so anything goes. Carlito says if it starts raining then the summit is not possible - but to bail, we realistically have to get to the Paso de Muerte anyway, so we press on. It's clear that if the weather continues to be wet, we have to bail - the rock will get slippery, the summit pinnacle is steep and has snow between the rock. I ready myself mentally.
Incidentally, the Paso de Muerte isn't all that scary - it's actually ho-hum except for some snow littering the most direct path across, which means you have to be doublely careful. By the time we get there, the percipitation stops, and the summit is a pleasant 30 minutes of climbing away. Carlito seems unworried. We head on up, totally immersed in cloud, and top out at 3:08 PM. Very happy moment. There's zero visibility, but that's ok; the process counts for more than the views anyway. We start down after maybe 15 minutes at the summit.
The descent down from Paso de Muerte, once you get past some early sketchy terrain, is a big scree field - really more like volcanic ash than scree, but that's splitting hairs. It's fast - much faster than retracing the ridge - but climbing up this stuff is for masochists only. As soon as we start down, the weather instantly deteriorates. It is now out & out raining, not the ice pellets BS that is distracting more than it is harmful. At one point, I slip, brace myself against my trekking pole, and in the process bend it out of shape. This pole has been in services since 2005, has been to Alaska, China (where I used to to fend off a monkey on Emei Shan), Ladakh, the Rockies, and a few other places. I'm sad, but it's bent out of shape and has gone to meet its maker. We have our one and only casualty of the trip, not bad if you ask me.
We continue to head lower. We're now effectively off the mountain and on the trail back to the parking lot. Carlito says something incomprehensible in Spanglish. After some thought I understand he's referring to...
Problem #2: Bulls. The male bovine things that tend to charge & gore the unsuspecting climber.
There is a cluster of bulls blocking our trail - 5 of them. They're not 10m away from the trail; they're right on the bloody thing, idle - in fact, they exhibit so little movement, they may as well be cardboard cutouts. I get visions of being mauled by a bull who's strangely attracted to the big red panel on my backpack and my orange helmet. So much for a successful climb! How do you explain this? "I topped out on Illiniza Norte, but got trampled by bulls on the way down." I also suggest hopefully and naively that perhaps they're stray cows, but that's impossible. The horns are in plain sight; the udders are not.
Carlito is finding this all immensely amusing, and seems to have some plan. I don't know what that could be. I'm a city slicker and not used to moving a herd of bulls out of my way in rural Ecuador. I quickly learn that, apparently, whistling and throwing rocks in their direction scares them. Lesson learned: next time a herd of bulls shows up at the corner of Bremner Blvd. & Navy Wharf Crt. I'll know what to do. Carlito dislodges the bulls. I am impressed, and think we're home free.
Ahh... but no! I think this may be a bull convention. We walk on, and find a lone bull - apparently they're more dangerous when they're alone. Even Carlito looks worried, but manages to scare the bull with some whistling and potentially brandishing of a stick. We move on, nervous, as the bull eyes us. Unfortunately, we then encounter another 20 or so bulls! Where are these bloody bovines coming from, and why are they not engaging in some sort of raunchy activity with their female bretheren? Why must they be in my way? I remain nervous. We can see our vehicle (and the bull roaming around it). We can also see a dozen bulls staring at us with a twinkle of hunger in their eyes. Our only protection is Carlito's ability to whistle, and my ability to brandish my broken trekking pole. When it was in good repair, it scared a wild monkey. I don't know what it'd do for a bull.
In the midst of all this nervousness we get to our vehicle (now bull-free) at around 5:30 PM. To summarize, we climbed 1300m vertical in 5 hours, including a 45 minute break in the refugio. We descended the same distance in a little over two hours. And with inclement weather, to boot!
Lessons learned today:
Last night I cornered Patricio with a "so what's going on with the plans for Illiniza Norte, Cotopaxi etc" and we figured it out after some discussion of costs, which seem to face inflationary pressures. He quickly made arrangements for a guide the next day (that'd be today) to Illiniza Norte, then a rest day, then two days for Cotopaxi, another rest day in Riobamba, two days for Chimborazo, and then more rest.
So this morning at 7 AM I was picked up on the way to Illiniza Norte. We were to meet the guide near the mountain itself - he's a local, whatever.
First things first, breakfast. The driver took me to a roadside restaurant that charged More-Than-Quito prices, but what the $7 got you was more food than any human should rightly be able to eat, especially when there are children starving in this very country. Specifically, $7 got you fresh baked bread, a vat of jam, a huge chunk of cheese, and what must have been 5 eggs cooked in a casserole. I twas more than I could eat, but no complaints; a big objective ahead, and I need fuel! Incidentally, it was made clear to me that I am to pay for the driver's breakfast too - and this is a departure from what I saw with my jeep driver in Tibet, Dawa, who not only dined and hotelled separately, but would shyly refuse to let us pay for his dinner, or even sit at our table!
We met the guide around 9 AM. I was expecting some grizzled mountaineer. I got... a 20 year old, wet behind the ears. I figure, OK, this is a routine climb and he ought to know the route since it is climbed so often. On this count, he did not disappoint.
A word about Illiniza Norte (5126m if memory serves). This is the northern volcano, sitting majestically behind its sister Illiniza Sur - google them, you'll see. Illiniza Sur is a technical ice climb, very committing, and requires an overnight at the Illiniza refugio - I was not prepared to do this with an unknown partner (guide or otherwise), especially given I have what amounts to zero ice climbing skills myself. Norte, on the other hand, is a pleasant scramble climbed from the refugio, and can be done as a day trip - which is what I did. You start off at a parking lot a few km away, at an altitude of around 3800m. The summit is 1300m higher!
Now, people will say that Illiniza Norte is easy, even trivial. These people need to get a brain adjustment. Not all scrambles are trivial, and I would argue that any reasonably remote mountain, at altitude, should be treated with respect. Illiniza Norte is not technical, meaning you don't need to bring a whole lead rack and belay every pitch. However, it is still physically demanding and committing. "Easy" should be reserved for climbing to the top of Mt. Chicopee in Kitchener and not to a 5000m peak in Ecuador.
Back to the climb. Carlos (aka Carlito) & I had a two-phase climb. First, reach the refugio at the col between the two Illinizas. Second, climb Norte, descending by a different route than what we took up (more on this later). We got started at around 10:15 AM. The going, at least for me, was fairly tough. The refugio is at approx. 4600m, meaning there's an 800m gain in elevation over some distance, and of course this is happening at altitude to a person still acclimitizing. Unfortunately, there's no way to acclimatize without subjecting yourself to this sort of experience, and I was frankly embarassed by my pitiful lung capacity and (shall we say) modest ability to walk uphill for more than a few minutes.
We made it to the refugio at 12:30 or so, meaning we took a little over two hours to cover distance my guidebook suggests is a 3hr walk. I was pleased. Carlito made sandwiches. We hit the road a few minutes past 1 PM.
Now, the Illinza Norte is effectively a ridge haul. You climb up a ways, attain the ridge, and stay on the ridge. In your way are three pinnacles that need to be climbed over or around - over being the non-suicidal way to do things. After the third pinnacle, you cross the scarily-named Paso de Muerte ("Pass of Death") and finally climb up to the true summit. You're basically doing 4th class scrambling for most of this, with the odd bit of walking on flat terrain. Most of it is steep, but the exposure is quite minimal. The rock is completely solid, almost nothing is loose anywhere, and there are tons of holds. I've got nothing against scrambling and I'd characterize the climbing on Illinza Norte as seriously fun.
To descend, you start heading lower directly from Paso de Muerte and thus do not have to repeat the ridge haul. This is a significant improvement over the logistics of the Mt. Victoria climb I did this summer. There, the ridge was very long, extremely narrow in places, horribly exposed all along, and a fall would be fatal. Did I mention that we did that particular climb unbelayed, unroped, didn't-take-the-harness-out-of-my-pack? Scared yet? I was.
Problem #1 on the climb was the weather. Quito was shrouded in fog overnight, which cleared by the time we got near Illiniza - and the views of the mountains are gorgeous - pictures coming, I promise. Unfortunately, the cobalt skies did not last, and by the time we got to the refugio, the mountain was clouding over. We went anyway.
Fast forward through some climbing, and lets pretend we're in the vicinity of the 3rd pinnacle - shortly before the Paso de Muerte. Percipitation begins, specifically ice pellets. We may be near the equator, but we're also at 5000m, so anything goes. Carlito says if it starts raining then the summit is not possible - but to bail, we realistically have to get to the Paso de Muerte anyway, so we press on. It's clear that if the weather continues to be wet, we have to bail - the rock will get slippery, the summit pinnacle is steep and has snow between the rock. I ready myself mentally.
Incidentally, the Paso de Muerte isn't all that scary - it's actually ho-hum except for some snow littering the most direct path across, which means you have to be doublely careful. By the time we get there, the percipitation stops, and the summit is a pleasant 30 minutes of climbing away. Carlito seems unworried. We head on up, totally immersed in cloud, and top out at 3:08 PM. Very happy moment. There's zero visibility, but that's ok; the process counts for more than the views anyway. We start down after maybe 15 minutes at the summit.
The descent down from Paso de Muerte, once you get past some early sketchy terrain, is a big scree field - really more like volcanic ash than scree, but that's splitting hairs. It's fast - much faster than retracing the ridge - but climbing up this stuff is for masochists only. As soon as we start down, the weather instantly deteriorates. It is now out & out raining, not the ice pellets BS that is distracting more than it is harmful. At one point, I slip, brace myself against my trekking pole, and in the process bend it out of shape. This pole has been in services since 2005, has been to Alaska, China (where I used to to fend off a monkey on Emei Shan), Ladakh, the Rockies, and a few other places. I'm sad, but it's bent out of shape and has gone to meet its maker. We have our one and only casualty of the trip, not bad if you ask me.
We continue to head lower. We're now effectively off the mountain and on the trail back to the parking lot. Carlito says something incomprehensible in Spanglish. After some thought I understand he's referring to...
Problem #2: Bulls. The male bovine things that tend to charge & gore the unsuspecting climber.
There is a cluster of bulls blocking our trail - 5 of them. They're not 10m away from the trail; they're right on the bloody thing, idle - in fact, they exhibit so little movement, they may as well be cardboard cutouts. I get visions of being mauled by a bull who's strangely attracted to the big red panel on my backpack and my orange helmet. So much for a successful climb! How do you explain this? "I topped out on Illiniza Norte, but got trampled by bulls on the way down." I also suggest hopefully and naively that perhaps they're stray cows, but that's impossible. The horns are in plain sight; the udders are not.
Carlito is finding this all immensely amusing, and seems to have some plan. I don't know what that could be. I'm a city slicker and not used to moving a herd of bulls out of my way in rural Ecuador. I quickly learn that, apparently, whistling and throwing rocks in their direction scares them. Lesson learned: next time a herd of bulls shows up at the corner of Bremner Blvd. & Navy Wharf Crt. I'll know what to do. Carlito dislodges the bulls. I am impressed, and think we're home free.
Ahh... but no! I think this may be a bull convention. We walk on, and find a lone bull - apparently they're more dangerous when they're alone. Even Carlito looks worried, but manages to scare the bull with some whistling and potentially brandishing of a stick. We move on, nervous, as the bull eyes us. Unfortunately, we then encounter another 20 or so bulls! Where are these bloody bovines coming from, and why are they not engaging in some sort of raunchy activity with their female bretheren? Why must they be in my way? I remain nervous. We can see our vehicle (and the bull roaming around it). We can also see a dozen bulls staring at us with a twinkle of hunger in their eyes. Our only protection is Carlito's ability to whistle, and my ability to brandish my broken trekking pole. When it was in good repair, it scared a wild monkey. I don't know what it'd do for a bull.
In the midst of all this nervousness we get to our vehicle (now bull-free) at around 5:30 PM. To summarize, we climbed 1300m vertical in 5 hours, including a 45 minute break in the refugio. We descended the same distance in a little over two hours. And with inclement weather, to boot!
Lessons learned today:
- Climbing in the rain is probably not the greatest idea in history. In retrospect, bailing would have been just fine, although it feels good to have a summit in the bag.
- Bulls can appear out of nowhere, and when they do, it sucks. I am not equipped to handle bulls.
- Climbing to 5126m after acclimatizing to 4300m the day prior may lead to a mild AMS-related headache, and extreme fatigue.
- No amount of "this is an easy mountain" can take away the physical difficulty of it all.
- Most importantly, an "easy mountain" may also be a deeply enjoyable climb.
Tomorrow, I will loiter around Quito and figure out something to do - perhaps another attempt to go to the Mitad del Mundo, this time with better information in hand. Friday, I'm heading to Cotopaxi to punish my body a little bit more, with another large mountain. I hope the weather holds. I also hope my body holds.
# posted by Alex Perel @ 8:25 PM 
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Congratulations! That sounds like quite the adventure.
Although I would have to doubt the transferrability of your newly aquired bull-removing techniques to any situation you may encounter at thei ntersection of Bremner & Navy Wharf :)
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Although I would have to doubt the transferrability of your newly aquired bull-removing techniques to any situation you may encounter at thei ntersection of Bremner & Navy Wharf :)
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