Peru

Two plane rides, an 8-hour layover in a busy bus station, an overnight bus ride, and 6 hours in a hotel lobby waiting for a room is enough to make anyone irritable. Thankfully, I had my patience about me when I met my Peruvian guide who told me that the two peaks I had come here for were unclimable due to crevasse danger. We decided on two alternate peaks and while I would give up some altitude and a lot of technical skills, I would still get a chance to get up into the beautiful mountains and practice what I came here for. 

Hauraz, Peru 

The first climb was to Copa which would be 6200m. We drove to the road and met our mule driver, who loaded most of our gear onto donkeys and trudged up the mountain. It was hot, and we traversed back and forth along probably 200 switchbacks through woods and then exposed ridge until we reached the base camp (4550m) at the foot of the mountain. It took about 4 hours for this 10k of travel, gaining about 1300m. To one side was a thousand meter crevassed and avalanche-ridden icefall resembling the infamous Khumbu Icefall on Everest. To the right was the face of Copa itself covered in ice. Up the middle was a narrow gully containing loose stone and some snow which would take us to high camp. But because of the mules this was gourmet camping. We had a mess tent, a toilet tent, and very delicious food served up.

Copa on the hike up

Looking up at Copa. Summit is to the right, high camp sits at the top middle of the pic up the rock and ice gully.

View from camp

I slept terribly as I always do in a tent. Luckily, when I awoke I descended 10 minutes until I could get a phone signal where I was informed that my wife and both daughters had run exceptionally well on the 4th of July race. I also got to see that Mark Cavendish, one of my favorite riders of all time, had in fact broken the all time TDF stage win record. I had plenty of motivation as we started our climb, this time without mules, up the steep face to high camp.

Mules carry up to 1st camp. It allowed us to have a really comfortable low camp with good food.

It took about 3 and 1/2 hours to reach the high camp up a gully requiring crampons and some roping up. We had a few hours rest before darkness set in but thanks to our cook we were able to eat well, although the water source was a bit questionable. The alarm went off at midnight and we were on the trail by 1:00 a.m. As has been a pattern lately, the normal route was riddled with crevasses making it impossible. Therefore we decided to make our own route going left. The first three and a half hours were filled with crevasses of which we had to walk around climb up and over. We traversed that mountain so many times I think we saw all of it. As a team of three, we had to set up anchors and leads constantly due to the crevasse danger. This meant that for every time we set an anchor, I'd climb about 30 seconds and sit for 15 minutes while the other members climbed and established a new anchor. 

After 3 and 1/2 hours we finally cleared the last of the crevasses but we're only at about 5600m which was slow going. Unfortunately, we now headed up very steep snow, sometimes around 70 degrees. We were post holing up to our knees in deep snow on extremely steep cliffsides. We would go hand-over-hand with our legs plummeting deep with every step and this went on for about 4 hours. By the time the sun had risen we reached the top of the slope that we had been on for a long time. It was here we would go no further. At 6,000 m there was a large crevasse about 150 ft deep and kilometers long. We were just 188m below the summit, but there was absolutely no way we could reach it. Disheartened after all of our hard work, we turned and descended back to high camp where we rested briefly before packing up and heading down towards base camp. 

6000m, so close to the top

Job 38:11. "Hitherto shalt thou come, but no further." The crevasse that stopped us 188m below the summit.

Coming down the ropes after turning back

The climb down reminded me just how difficult that section of the mountain was. While it only took about 3:40 to go up it took about 3:20 to come down. Most of the time you can come down in half or even a quarter as much time as it took you to go up. We had on our full packs making it very difficult to descend the mixed ice and rock. We had to rope up and rappel down ice waterfalls and all of the rocks were extremely loose causing us to slide down the steep gully with each step. The sun was beating down hard as we came down the mountain, soaking with sweat under the weight of our packs and very tired from a long, very difficult climb. While this was supposed to be a relatively easy mountain, the route we took increased the difficulty significantly. My guide said this was the hardest climb he had ever taken a client on. While it was a good challenge, it was disappointing not to reach the summit after all of that hard work, again due to factors beyond our control. It also isn't the type of climbing that I'm really interested in right now. As I prepare for Everest, I am not looking for anything too technical. 

A day later:

After several hours' drive through the towns and national park, we arrive at the roadside, load up our gear, and head up from about 4200m. Today is an undulating scramble through meadows and along a moraine ridge before reaching moraine camp at about 5000m. The air is chillier here, and clouds sock in the mountain. Terrifying sounds of rock falling high above echoes through the valley - you just have to hope it isn't your time. Thanks to the grace of two porters - one of whom has gone back down - we again have a decent amount of food, gas, and tents, at least for the first camp. It is amazing what these guys can haul up, carrying probably double what I do faster than I will ever go.

The next day left us with one of the more difficult assents to a high camp that I've ever had. After some moraine scrambling, we roped up and put on the crampons. There was lots of vertical snow and glaciers to navigate. While it took just about 2 hours to do, it was a hard 400m to earn. With our packs it was difficult going, but thankfully fairly short. The views from high camp cannot be beat.

Chopicalqui high camp. Summit is 1000m higher on the dome at middle.

View from my tent at high camp

View from high camp 

Working our way up to high camp

Emerging from the crevasse field on the way to high camp 

I lie my tent riding out the time between arrival to camp and departure for the summit. My environment oscillates from a industrial meat freezer to the feeling you'd get if you stuck your head in a preheated oven. Layers come on and off just as quickly. My guide has moved next door to assist a German team, one of whom has altitude sickness. After vomiting for a bit, they have asked for help. My guide is packing his bag for him and encouraging him to go down as quickly as possible as it is late in the day and he is unlikely to get any better here. They were successful to the summit albeit not without its cost. Others did not make it. We are in for a challenge.

Sleep never comes easy in a tent at altitude but if you get a couple of hours you are lucky. By 11:45 I was up and packing. Another difficult thing to do in this environment is eat. I managed a piece of bread and a glass of cocoa, but it would never be enough. Wearing everything I brought with me we started up the hill. I was extremely hot, but with everything on is difficult to take off any one piece of clothing so I continued on. Inevitably, I start sweating which means when the wind picks up or we stand still I am now susceptible to cold. The climb is fair; we go up a snowridge for quite some time around the back of the mountain before reaching a significant wall. This changes us from mostly walking to having to climb almost vertically for about three pitches. We have caught another team of two, a Mexican girl and her guide, and we essentially stay together the rest of the way. Each time I check in with the guide he says that we are moving too fast and we are going to arrive at the summit too early. It is an incredibly clear night and I know that the view at sunrise is going to be amazing. However, sitting in the snow and getting colder is not a great option, the beauty of nature notwithstanding. 

We arrive at the summit ridge and have about 30 minutes left of climbing. The guy pulls over again. My frustration starts to mount as all of these breaks are making me very cold. Yes, if we wait a few minutes maybe we will get closer to seeing the sunrise. I tell him I don't care about the sunrise and I want to go up, tag the summit, and come down where I will see anything nature has to offer at that point. We creep up the final slope and are then standing on top of the mountain (6354m). However, we have arrived so early that it is pitch black. The guide say it is dangerous to go down to the rappel anchors without being able to see. Part of me wonders if this is just a ruse to see the sunrise. We begin digging a large snow pit on top of the mountain that we are supposed to stand and then eventually sit in to block the wind. The weather has been very good up until about the final half hour when the wind kicked up and now I am freezing, my hands don't work, and this has become not fun. We are on top of the mountain for less than an hour, but every minute feels like pure torture in our bivouac. I mostly keep my chin tucked to my chest trying to keep all air out of my coat. My hands are painful and my toes are becoming cold even in my big boots as I bounce to keep the blood going to my extremities. We are crammed in this hole and people start rubbing each other trying to get blood flowing. It is a strange feeling to be engaged in survival techniques when everything had been going just fine. With the sun not even on the horizon we start down. Unfortunately for me, soon after the summit are the three pitches of rappels that must be done. Not only is it incredibly difficult to abseil off a mountain with frozen hands, I am about worthless when it comes to tying into the rope and setting up the device. Luckily, that's why guides are there, to make sure that you are safe. So we roped down the mountain and soon we're back walking down the slope towards high camp. 

Chopicalqui summit: 6,354 metres (20,846 ft) So cold after nearly 1 hour bivouac in a snow pit. Hauscaran - the tallest peak in Peru - is behind me.

As the sun warms us we gain speed and confidence; the pain and danger has since passed. Up on the mountain the four of us decided that we would descend all the way to base camp which sits just about a half an hour's walk from the road (we skipped it on the way up). It would make for a long day having climbed up to high camp yesterday, gotten little sleep, climbed all night and then descended back through two camps, but it would leave a very short day on the way out. 

Chopicalqui summit pyramid. Small black dots high up are climbers.

Rappelling down the mountain with frozen fingers. It was not easy.

After a brief break, we broke high camp and started down the glacier and snow, weaving our way closer and closer to the moraine. After some tricky work across glaciers, we reach the end of the snow and ice, and took off the crampons. Now we had to navigate a giant boulder field with our mountaineering boots on. This is awkward at the best of times, but after an all night climb and with a full pack on your back, this is a nightmare. Is also very dangerous because there are rocks and snow falling from the peaks all around and we just don't want to be anywhere near where they end up. Rocks the size of BBQ grills shift without warning. This could roll over your other foot, breaking your leg, or slide out from underneath you, and send you hurtling down the mountain to your certain death. There's loose scree at times, which is very hard to find traction with the boots. After 90 minutes or so we reach the moraine camp, switch out of the mountaineering boots into hiking boots, and begin descending again, this time about another hour and a half to the base camp. We arrived just as the rain started. Nothing was going to come easy. 

Base camp on a cold morning 

Morning came revealing a frozen camp. We ate and packed with haste, eager to make the 1 mile walk to the road. I am justified in the decision to not sleep at moraine camp and leave 2+ hours of hiking this morning. When the climb is done, it's done. Back to town to reestablish connection to the world, eat decent food, and drink water that hasn't been boiled (free of floaties), address neglected hygiene, sleep in a bed, and do laundry. The next morning brought a 10-hr bus ride to Lima, a quick rest and flights to Bolivia for the final climb.

People we spoke to on the way up and down are impressed that we made it to the summit so quickly. I, for one, felt that we were moving quite slowly and we could have probably reached the summit 30 to 45 minutes earlier had we just kept steady pace and not tried to wait for the sunrise. The guide said I was strong and others who spoke to him said that the time we set was indicative of a strong performance. This was encouraging after missing out on the summits of Copa and Chimborazo (due to nature). I wish we had started a little bit later and reach the top when the sun was out, not just for the views, but to stay much warmer than we were. 

Going to bed the night before this last climb, I felt low. I wondered if this was really worth it. But in the end, it was a pretty good climb, giving me everything I needed to prepare for Everest. It was several days of walking to get to the highest camp with weight in my pack which allowed me to persevere as I gained elevation. The climate itself had great elements: first it had long slopes which I need to be ready for and just keep moving, and then up high, it had some steeper rope work to maneuver, which is exactly how Everest is set up. Again, I was able to not only complete the climb but also climb down a long way without being completely trashed. My training and my fueling has obviously helped me continue the work even after I have reached the highest point.

Off to Bolivia. One to go. Then home sweet home.