The next day we loaded our gear into an old jeep and took off for the Piedra Grande mountain hut. The women from Colorado had hired a guide and our driver told us that we would be picking him up from another small village on our way to the mountain. We drove through town and soon were driving through the empty Mexican desert. As the jeep drove up into the foothills of Orizaba the road became rough and we began to question whether or not the old jeep was going to be able to make it. After a few more rough patches however, we arrived at the small village where the guide lived. It was less a village and more a small collection of farmers living on the side of the mountain, and the harsh desert landscape had now become dotted with sparse trees. Cows and goats wandered through the underbrush while little kids played outside or worked in the gardens.
The guide jumped in the car with us and we were on our way. He was in his early twenties and told us that he climbed the mountain quite often with clients and was excited for us to experience the peak. After another hour of rough roads the jeep arrived at the mountain hut. The hut had no amenities and was lined with large bunks from floor to ceiling. There were many other climbers already there and I quickly claimed a bunk. It was recommended that an acclimatization hike be done before going to bed that night so after talking a bit with the other climbers I set off up the main trail to scope out the route for the next morning.
The jeep had taken us to 14,000’ but the remaining 4500’ climb that towered above me seemed daunting. I spent the afternoon climbing to 15,000’ which is where the trail ended and an area of rock outcroppings called The Labyrinth began. Some route exploration would be needed the morning so I was glad to lay eyes on it in the daylight before finding myself there in the dark early morning. I slowly worked my way back to the hut and spent the rest of the afternoon catching lizards that hung out on the rocks outside the hut. Climbers from all over the world were at the hut and it was fun to talk to them about other climbs they had done and what brought them to Orizaba. After a quick dinner of some boiled ramen that I found in my backpack, I crawled into my sleeping bag and tried to force myself into getting as much rest as possible before waking up early the next morning.
As I lay in my sleeping bag, the Mexican desert was dark and silent- apart from one fateful sound: the horrendous snoring of the person beneath my bunk. It pierced the air and I knew that there was no possibility of me falling asleep while listening to it. Thankfully I had some headphones in my pocket and turned on some music to drown out the noise. This worked only partially however because in order to drown out the snoring I had to turn the music up to such a volume that again, it was impossible to fall asleep. I laid there thinking with each passing minute how much more tired I was going to be in the morning and hoped for a miracle.
Suddenly the darkness was broken by a bright beam of light and thinking that perhaps my miracle had arrived, I quickly sat up to see what was happening. After clenching my head in pain and irritably remembering that there was a bunk above me, I looked down to see another group of climbers that had just arrived. It was midnight and although we had to wake up at 3am, they had little care for this and began loudly gathering their gear for the climb. They clearly had chosen some luxury guide package that I hadn’t even been offered. Their guide cooked a multi course meal for them and packed their bags with water bottles and snacks. After somewhat enviously watching them devour their gourmet dinner it was time to wake up, and since apparently I got to skip that step, I rolled off the bunk and made sure all my gear was in order.
One of the goals of this trip was to learn as much as I could about trip planning and climbing on my own as possible, so I was hesitant to get caught up in the large group of climbers attempting the summit and instead set off on into the dark on my own a few minutes before everyone was ready to leave. I had been good about training for the climb and my legs felt great. Despite having no sleep the night before, I had high energy and felt great hiking fast under the bright stars. I climbed quickly and soon I could see that I was high above the rest of the climbers with their head lamps slowly moving far below.
I quickly made it to the labyrinth and began to notice the effects of the altitude. Now at 15,000’ my legs still felt good but a heavy fatigue had started falling over my body. I picked my way slowly through the Labyrinth, climbing up rocky shoots only to find the route dead ending in a cliff. Out of sight of the climbers below and vast darkness stretching out across the valley below me for hundreds of miles, I began to feel very alone. After finally forcing myself up one of the cliffs where my route had dead ended, I found myself on a rocky scree field leading up to the glacier. By now I was very tired and the wind blowing up over the ridge was horribly cold. I threw on another coat and decided to eat some food while huddled behind a large rock.
My tangerines were long gone but I still had my loaf of bread and sausage. I happily tore off a piece of bread and took a bite out of the sausage. The bread was dry and I had to wash it down with some water from my water bottle. The sausage was raw. As I chewed it in my mouth I began to realize that perhaps my broken English at the butcher shop had not properly conveyed my need for cooked meat. I was still well ahead of the rest of the climbers, so I pulled out my backpacking stove and boiled some water. I dropped the sausage into the water and watched as the water turned into an oily gooey mess. After watching the sausage bob around in the goo for awhile, I slowly turned off the water, grabbed the sausage, and threw it down the mountain as far as I could. I didn’t need any stupid sausage anyway. I could make the climb with just a loaf of bread I thought, and hastily began climbing again.
The pitch was easier now, but my head felt far away. I felt myself getting dizzy and my legs felt like lead. The tiredness in my body was entirely different than anything I had experience before. Unlike general fatigue from exercise, this tiredness started in my head and slowly seeped through my whole body. I was aware of moving very, very slowly at this point, struggling to focus enough to get just one leg in front of the other. All at once the dizziness overcame my head and I felt myself falling forward. Making no effort to catch myself, I landed on my face in the middle of the dirt and rocks. I remember thinking that it was ok to take a brief nap; and with my face in the dirt, hands by my side, and pack on my back, I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep.
I awoke to the young Mexican guide poking me with a stick.
“You ok amigo?”
I stared blankly at the headlamp staring me in the face and slowly nodded. “Yea I’m fine- just taking a quick nap”.
This was a satisfactory answer for the guide and he told me good luck and walked around my body to continue up towards the glacier. The Colorado women were with him and they had evidently broken away from the main group of climbers. I hastily got up and tucked in behind them, a little sheepish that my huge lead had been erased to nothing, only to have me discovered face down in the dirt. We trudged on and soon found ourselves at the base of the Jamapa Glacier.
At the glacier we took a brief break to strap on our crampons. The slope of the glacier started out moderate but quickly steepened to a perfect 45 degree pitch. Still feeling heavily fatigued, my ice ax wasn’t needed necessarily for climbing but rather to prevent me from nodding off falling down the mountain backwards. Now at 17,000’ we were exposed on the steep glacier with 1500’ of ice and rock extending up above us. Here one of the Colorado women stumbled and fell. She slid backwards down the mountain, tumbling and struggling to get her ice ax positioned to self-arrest. Her speed and body flailing emphasized how steep the slope truly was. She finally dug the ice ax in and slowly slid to a stop. After laying where she stopped for a few minutes she got up and motioned to us that she was ok. The jeep service from Tlachichuca was scheduled to pick us up from the lodge later that afternoon so with the tight time schedule the three of us pressed on and left her to catch up if she could; she was around other climbers and would not be alone on the climb. It felt calloused to leave her behind but was what needed to be done in order to summit in our limited window.
We climbed on and after another 1000’ of elevation gain my body felt that it wouldn’t make the summit. I was happy taking one step forward, even if it took 5 minutes of sitting to convince myself to take the step. My head was pounding and I felt like vomiting. The remaining girl from Colorado and I encouraged one another to keep going, and slowly we crawled forward one step at a time. While we pressed on desperate to make the summit, the guide stood and watched us while smoking a cigarette. He told us we needed to hurry or we would need to turn around. His cavalier attitude towards the biggest climb of my life and the seeming ease with which he stood there made me angry and a little ashamed and I channeled the emotion into driving myself forward. I felt that any step and I could collapse and slide careening down the mountain, but I kept telling myself over and over that I was going home with this summit in my bag or I wasn’t going to come home at all.
The sun had risen by this point and cast a magnificent shadow across the valley. A massive pyramid stretching to the horizon, it was unlike anything I had seen before. The crater rim of the volcano was visible just above us now and gave new life to my worthless legs. With a final push we made it to the edge of the crater and looked down into the massive blown out cliffs of lava stretching down beneath us. The exposed rock face was free of snow and we took off our crampons and made the final climb to the summit.
The joy of being on top of the peak and
towering above everything in sight was overwhelming. A white cross on the summit was silhouetted against the sun and the sea of clouds below. To the east Veracruz and the Gulf of Mexico lay hidden beneath the clouds. The feeling of accomplishment filled my heart to the point of euphoria. All of a sudden the tremendous effort to get up the mountain became worth it and excited hugs were exchanged all around. The Mexican guide was all smiles and congratulated us on making the summit.
After taking a few pictures we began the long descent back to the hut. We descended without incident and my brain and body were in such a terrible fog that I don’t remember much other than the hike back feeling like an eternity. On the way down the glacier we passed a team of climbers doing what we thought at the time was a series of climbing exercises. They were focused in one area of the glacier and didn’t seem
concerned about making the summit. Later we would learn that it was a crew attempting to recover the bodies of a climbing party that had been lost in 1959. A climber had seen a mummified head while climbing the week prior and this crew hoped to finally discover the bodies that had been missing for 45 years. The jeep picked us up from the hut and after a very tired, silent trip back into Tlachichuca we promptly went to sleep.
More info on the recovery of the missing climbers is available here: http://www.businessinsider.com/afp-mummy-mystery-lingers-on-daunting-mexico-peak-2015-3
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