Summiting Cotopaxi

Volcán Cotopaxi

Volcán Cotopaxi consistently makes it to the top of travellers' itineraries when visiting Ecuador. At an elevation of 5897 metres, Cotopaxi is the second highest peak in Ecuador and the third highest active volcano in the world. It attracts both hikers who want to admire the textbook conical shape of the volcano, and mountaineers who aim to stand on its glaciated summit. It was my goal to experience the latter. After all, how hard could it be?

As I started looking into what the climb involved, the gravity of the task began to sink in. I heard first-hand accounts of the climb, which invariably held that Cotopaxi was one of the biggest challenges of their lives both mentally and physically. The success rate was also discouraging, which was consistently well under 50% from everyone I asked. Accordingly, I took some measures to improve my chances at summiting.

Preparation

First-class seats en route to Quito

First thing was to get my hands on some suitable mountaineering gear. While I wasn't totally unprepared - I brought with me base layers and both down and hardshell jackets for the harsh weather of Patagonia - I was missing a few key things. Therefore I headed to Quito, Ecuador's capital. I stayed at the Blue House Hostel in the Mariscal district, which was situated within walking distance of several outdoor shops including Andes6000, Tattoo Adventure and a North Face outlet store. After taking care of the gear, I began researching Ecuadorian guiding outfits.

There was definitely no shortage of guides to choose from in Quito. I decided to go with Gulliver Expeditions and pay a little extra to go one-on-one with a guide - I didn't want to be responsible for my partner missing the summit if I couldn't make it, and vice versa. Now that the logistics were in order, it was time for the physical prep.

I hopped on a bus headed into the Avenue of Volcanoes. Here I planned to do some hikes and acclimatize. The first five days I did a popular trek from village to village in the Andes known as the Quilotoa Loop. The highest elevation I reached on this hike, however, was merely 3900 metres on Volcán Quilotoa - i.e. two kilometres in elevation shy of that of Cotopaxi.

Crater lake of Volcán Quilotoa

Iliniza Norte was the next step; at 5126 metres, this volcano would give me an idea of how I'd fare in the high altitude climb of Cotopaxi. My guide Sergio and I started from the parking lot at 3950 metres. After two and a half hours, weathering a snow storm and a steep scramble, we made the summit. With this relatively quick pace and not feeling any symptoms of altitude sickness, I was feeling pretty confident about Cotopaxi.

The Ilinizas, Sur (left) and Norte (right)

The scramble to the top

Summit of Ilinza Norte

Attempting Cotopaxi

Sergio picked me up from my luxurious room at Hosteria PapaGayo at noon on February 27th. On the way to the climbers' refuge we stopped at a road-side restaurant and had a two-course meal, the sopa and pollo Ecuadorian classic. After a few hours of sleep, I woke to a three-course meal. It was raining hard and the clouds showed no signs of lifting. I was told that I had five hours more to sleep and if the weather didn't improve, the climb would be off. It was tough to fall back asleep. Between 5:30 and 11:30 I think I managed to get about an hour of light sleep. Fortunately, the weather had improved and we were going to give Cotopaxi a shot - after one last meal of course...

We drove up to 4500 metres, geared-up and began the approach to the glacier at a quarter past midnight. After an hour and a half we had reached the glacier, strapped on our crampons and tethered ourselves together. It was pitch black and all I could see was the headlamp-illuminated ice directly beneath my feet. Nevertheless, it's not as if I would've appreciated the scenery around me if it had been visible - in fact, it was probably for the better. Upon reaching the glacier, we climbed up pitches between 30º and 50º the whole way; unlike regular hikes where the trail levels off a bit after a steep pitch, the route up Cotopaxi got steeper and steeper as we got closer and closer to the summit. I eventually shut-off my brain, shut-out the pain and focused exclusively on the side-stepping rhythm of one-two-three: downhill foot, uphill foot, ice-axe and repeat. The only break in routine was for a quick drink of water and the opportunity to take in the city lights of Latacunga and Quito in the distance.

After six hours of this gruelling climb, we reached the summit of Cotopaxi just in time for the sunrise. A second-wind hit me and I felt a huge feeling of satisfaction. There I was, standing at 5,897 metres - 19,347 feet - above sea level looking into the crater of this monstrous volcano. Unfortunately, the high didn't last long for I realized I still had to descend this freagin' thing with the little energy I had left. At least this time I would see what it was I had actually climbed up!

Sunrise at the peak of Cotopaxi

Crater of Cotopaxi

View of the Andes

Triangular shadow attests to the textbook conical shape of Volcán Cotopaxi

La Vista on the descent

Sergio and I

I was in a daze, with a pretty bad headache, as we drove past wild horses in the national park on the way back to Hosteria PapaGayo. After hopping on a bus bound for Quito and checking into the hostel, I climbed into bed at four in the afternoon, totally content, and fell into a 17-hour slumber to the tune of 'Wild Horses'...

The Quilotoa Loop: Hiking between Andean Villages

The Quilotoa Loop

‘Quilotoa Loop’ is the name given to a multi-day trip from village to village in the Ecuadorian Andes. It rewards those who take the sketchy bus rides and complete the hikes with breathtaking views of a volcanic crater lake and a glimpse of everyday life in Ecuador’s highland villages. Thinking that this would be good cardiovascular training and acclimatization for a couple of high altitude climbs I had planned, I left Quito on February 18^th for Latacunga, which was where I’d begin the loop.

City of Latacunga & the start of the loop

The first leg of the journey involved a three-hour bus ride to Isinliví. The driver, who was preoccupied with his novia and phone as he negotiated the numerous switchbacks cut into the mountainsides, coupled with the numerous crucifixes lining the road, put us on edge the whole way. But we made it to the sleepy village of Isinliví in one piece. The cobble-stone streets were empty. There were no pubs or restaurants, nor were there grocery stores. There was one woman in town with internet connection who was willing to share it, but supposedly it wasn’t strong enough to open your e-mail. Underscoring the quaint nature of Isinliví was a map of the town found at Hostal Llullu Llama, in which every home was labeled with titles such as the ‘Italians’, after the Italian expats who made wooden furniture, and ‘Helena’s Mum’, who I could only guess was the mother of some lady named Helena…

The sleepy town of Isinlivií

Map of Isinliví

Hostal Llullu Llama

The next day we hiked to Chugchilan. The trail wasn’t physically challenging, but it was a challenge to navigate; the trail was not only used to connect the towns of Isinliví and Chugchilan, but also had numerous branches used by the locals to get to their homes and farms. We climbed over mountains, followed rivers, crossed pastures and encountered a couple of tiny towns along the way. Chugchilan was a little bit more lively than Isinliví and so I decided to see what was around. Walking down the street I noticed a large pig struggling in an alleyway and what I thought looked like blood spilling down the cement walkway. As I neared this same alleyway on my way back to Hostal Cloud Forest I noticed the scent of burning hair. I had no doubt about it, the pig was being slaughtered. I explained to the family that I’ve never seen an animal being butchered and I asked if I could come in to watch, with which they had no problem.

Hiking through pastures on the way to Chugchilan

Small Andean village on the way to Chugchilan

Andean Escuela

Chugchilan

The hike to Quilotoa proved tougher than we had anticipated. After hiking for a few hours and gaining several hundred metres of elevation we arrived to the rim of Volcán Quilotoa. The elevation gain put us right in the clouds and, unfortunately, we didn’t have the best view of the crater lake. We decided to head into town to spend the night at Hosteria Alpaca Quilotoa and save the hike around the rim of the volcano for the next morning when there would be better visibility. But we made a wrong turn; we didn’t read the full instructions and instead of staying within the crater, we descended the outside. There were a few clues that should’ve put us back on the right track: first, the trail we were taking was full of switchbacks and our map showed a straight trail to Quilotoa; second, we passed a sign for Quilotoa indicating that it was 3.5 km in the opposite direction; and, finally, we passed a sign for Guayama San Pedro, a town we had passed a couple of hours earlier. Due to the poor visibility brought on by the clouds, it took us an hour to realize we had come down the same route we had ascended! Fortunately, by the time we climbed back up to the volcano the clouds had somewhat cleared and we had a great view of the lake.

Laguna Quilotoa

Poor visibility at Volcán Quilotoa

Crater lake of Volcán Quilotoa

The final stretch of the Quilotoa Loop involved a bus ride back to Latacunga. We got a ride to Zumbahua from which we could catch a bus. We arrived right as they were loading up sheep on the roof of the bus. As we started driving along the winding roads we could hear the steps of the sheep as they tried to maintain their balance, but they couldn't always do so...

Loading up some extra passengers on the roof

Sharp turn

Hiking from Andean village to Andean village along the Quilotoa Loop proved to be a great experience. I had a chance to interact with the locals, got a glimpse of everyday life in the Ecuadorian highlands, and saw some beautiful views along the way. I can only hope that the exercise and acclimatization also helps me in my attempts at the summits of the Ilinizas and Cotopaxi next week.

From Muddy Volcanoes to Luxurious Lounges on Lago de Nicaragua

On Friday November 22, 2013 I left the Pacific coast and ventured inland for the first time since the start of my journey. I needed a change of scenery and Lago de Nicaragua was the solution. Lago de Nicaragua is the largest lake in Central America and, interestingly, is home to freshwater bull sharks and sawfish. It also contributes to the atmospheric conditions that create the infamous winds that blow out toward the Pacific Ocean 300 days of the year. This phenomenon helped make Nicaragua the surf destination that it is; the consistent offshore winds hold-up the faces of waves until their highest peak, promoting a good shape and a better ride. Four friends from Castaway and I decided to explore two areas on the lake, Ometepe and Granada.

Isla de Ometepe (A) & Granada (B) on Lago de Nicaragua

The five of us boarded a ferry at San Jorge for Isla de Ometepe. Ometepe is an island within Lago de Nicaragua formed by the volcanoes Concepción and Maderas. We stayed at Santa Cruz Hostel & Restaurant, which had a great view of Volcán Concepción - an active, textbook cone-shaped volcano.

Isla de Ometepe with Volcán Concepción on the left and Volcán Maderas on the right

Our view of Volcán Concepción from Hospedaje de Santa Cruz

The first trip we did on the island was to the spring, Ojo de Agua. We borrowed some bikes and set off down the cobblestone streets, past signs outlining the evacuation route in the event of a volcanic eruption and numerous comedors, which are locals' homes that double as restaurants. From what I gathered from the Spanish presentation upon arrival to the spring, the Ojo de Agua is a mineral spring with healing properties. I was told that a 100 year-old local man swam in the spring and claimed that he felt as if he were 40 again. I reckon that the spring does not have magical healing properties and that he was just pulling my leg, for my cold that I had been fighting for several days prior got much worse after spending the day in the water. Nevertheless, it was a blast horsing around in the crystal-clear waters.

Biking around Ometepe

Ojo de Agua

The gang

The next day we hired a guide and climbed Volcán Maderas. Maderas is an inactive volcano with an elevation of 1394 metres above sea level. The top of the volcano is covered in a cloud forest, which has a very eerie feel. Through the mist it is incredibly green with moss and peculiar vegetation, such as a fern shaped like a monkey's tail. It was also much cooler in the cloud forest, like natural air-conditioning. As we hiked we were constantly watched by, and heard the yells of, Capuchin and Howler monkeys high in the canopy. Descending 200 metres into the crater of the volcano we were rewarded with a lake. Despite only being about a 12 kilometre hike, the perpetual mist and rains of the cloud forest made for a muddy and slick trail that took us nearly 10 hours to cover.

Hike through the cloud forest

Guardian of the cloud forest?

Breakfast

Monkey tail -shaped fern

Lake within the crater of Volcán Maderas

On Monday November 25th we got back on the ferry and met Marcos, a local from Ometepe with a van, who offered to drive us right to Granada for 100 córdobas ($4 US) a person. Granada is an old colonial town with beautiful architecture and buildings of various colours. The town was decorated with fake trees, bows and lights in preparation for the Christmas holidays. Numerous cafés, bookstores and the market kept me busy during the day. In the evenings, both tourists and locals would flood one street that was lined with restaurants on both sides with tables spilling onto the street. While we ate, artisans, break-dancers and musicians would wander the street to try and make a buck.

The Christmas tree in Granada's central park

Cathedral in the heart of Granada, right in the central park

Another cathedral

Bustling market in Granada

Break-dancers performing in the main strip

Granada is also a great hub for various day trips, including a tour of the isletas de Granada. We took a boat tour of the various islands on Lago de Nicaragua near Granada, some of which are inhabited. The highlight was definitely seeing the Spider monkeys, one of which was even brave enough to join us on the boat.

Isletas de Granada

Just monkeying around

Spider Monkey

Friendly little dude

The vibe of the old colonial town provoked me to splurge a little more than I was used to at the beach. In addition to all the cafés, restaurants and pubs, I decided to get a hot shave. The barberia was equipped with old-school metal chairs with red leather upholstery, right in the centre of the colonial town. Other than the fact that Nicaragua doesn't have hot water and the damp towel was cold, the straight razor shave was exactly how I imagined it - bad-ass.

My first straight razor shave

To prolong the feeling of being wealthy, traveling businessmen rather than poor, stingy backpackers, we went to Mombacho Cigar Lounge. Here we got a tour of the lounge in which the entire cigar-making process was explained, from tobacco seed to quality, aged cigars. Afterward, we bought a couple of stogies and Toña cervezas and lounged by the complimentary pool reading their expensive magazines full of cars and watches that we'll probably never be able to afford. Nevertheless, we still felt as if we were worth a million bucks...

Cigar-rolling workstations  

Hard-at-work

Drying tobacco leaves

The lounge

Ready to relax

Tom and I enjoying a Mombachito

Just another day

I've had a blast in Ometepe and Granada the past week, but it's time to get back to the beach life. Tomorrow I'll be on my way to one of Nicaragua's most famous breaks, 'The Boom'.