Cotopaxi, Ecuador

After relaxing in Baños, we were ready for our next adventure: climbing Cotopaxi. Cotopaxi is Ecuador´s most famous volcano, likely because of its near-perfect conical shape, extensive glaciers, and close proximity to Quito. The summit, which is 5,897 meters (roughly 19,350 feet) high and very near to the Equator, overlooks Quito and the surrounding volcanoes. 

Michael and I on the summit of Cotopaxi!

Michael and I decided we would do this climb by ourselves instead of hiring a guide. After spending one night in Latacunga (a somewhat nice town between Baños and Quito), we rented the necessary gear and found transportation to the parking lot below Cotopaxi´s refugio, a large climbing lodge with a kitchen and bunk beds. At $45 for the two of us, it was the most expensive lodging of our trip so far.

The weather was terrible the day before our attempted climb (it is the rainy season right now). It rained all day at the lower elevations and snowed more than a foot up on the mountain. We couldn´t see much of anything from the refugio at first, but then the skies cleared in the late evening revealing a breathtaking view of the lights of Quito and giving us more hope for a good climb.

Since we didn´t know the exact route through the crevasse field, we waited for the other groups with guides to get a head start – there were four teams (9 people in total), including us.  Our plan was to follow the guides, which conveniently also meant they, not us, would ¨break trail¨ - i.e. cut a path through the foot of fresh snow (which is very tiring work).  Unfortunately, by the time we reached the first major crevasse, we had already caught up to the front team. The hired-guide ahead soon realized our plan, got upset and basically started talking trash to the other guides about us for not hiring a guide (they ate those words later, but I´ll get to that). Michael has an incredibly good sense of the flow of glaciers and the best routes to follow, so we forged on ahead in the lead – through all the snow, no less.

Unfortunately, we were followed by another American, a college student studying abroad in Ecuador named Nick.  Let´s just say now that Nick is not the hero of this story.  Nick had NO climbing experience whatsoever, had not acclimatized, didn´t hire a guide, didn´t talk to anyone about the route, how to climb or what to expect, and apparently thought he could simply stroll to the top. We didn´t realize he had come completely alone until he followed our tracks over an ice bridge that, without being roped up to anyone else, was incredibly dangerous. The other teams were close behind and watched him follow us. The hired-guides yelled at us that his actions were extremely dangerous (as if we were responsible) and said that we had to put him on our rope despite the fact that each of them had more rope and safety gear than our rudimentary set-up.

Roughly 1,000 feet below the summit, just before sunrise

In retrospect, I think this climb (and the forced addition of Nick to our team) truly deepened my appreciation of Michael as a guide and climbing partner. Despite how we were treated by the hired-guides and Nick´s ignorant and risky decision to climb alone without experience, Michael was incredibly generous and put Nick´s safety above our own desire to climb together and at our own pace. Rather than explaining to the hired-guides that we had no responsibility for Nick´s incredibly poor judgment, Michael re-worked the rope so that Nick could join us, taught him the basic elements of climbing, and set the pace at however fast Nick could go, helping him along the way and patiently taking breaks when Nick needed them. We carried on up the volcano at about half the speed we had been going without him, but with the knowledge that he was safe.

The other teams passed us in the time it took to add Nick, but we caught up with them soon after when the hired-guides got stuck between a large crevasse and an ice cliff, and appeared to be ready to turn around. Michael, not so easily discouraged, found a passable route and led all of us safely across. He proceeded to break trail through the snow for most of the difficult and steep portions of the climb. Those hired-guides didn´t have anything negative to say to us after that.

Climbing past one of many ice cliffs along the route

About 1,000 feet from the top, Michael was able to convince Nick to give up on the summit while allowing Nick to save face. Nick had been stumbling like he was drunk from the altitude and exhaustion and I found it amazing how Michael somehow made it feel like it was Nick´s choice to stop. Michael gave Nick his warm down jacket and the two of us took off for the summit, passing the other teams and reaching the top much later than anticipated, but still with enough time to safely descend.

The summit was gorgeous! The crater was incredible – it was like nothing I have ever seen before. A sea of clouds hovered below us, rising steadily and obscuring the view of the ground below, but it was still breathtaking.  In the distance, we could see the rising smoke from Tungarahua´s on-going eruption (which we had seen close-up in Baños).  One by one, the other teams made it to the top as well, some of the less-experienced climbers being almost dragged to the top behind the guides and barely able to stand from the altitude.

We didn´t linger at the top, given the late hour and the avalanche danger posed by the foot of new snow on top of a sheet of ice. We descended quickly, until we picked up Nick again. Much of the way down, I was torn between anger that Nick´s stupidity was making this the slowest descent ever and fear that his exhaustion and lack of experience would cause a serious accident and ruin the rest of our trip. But Michael was patient and verbally encouraging the whole way, which reminded me that the safest thing to do was also be patient and keep my negative thoughts to myself so Nick could do his best to get himself safely down the mountain – my criticism would only distract him and put us more at risk. Michael also took several additional safety precautions on the critical passages that saved Nick from falling down the steeper parts and sweeping us both into a crevasse. My anger at Nick was overshadowed by my appreciation for Michael.

Our descent through extremely thick fog

Once past the last major crevasse field, the descent was uneventful and we made it safely back to the refugio after about 10 hours of climbing. I have to brag that, despite our pace being cut in half while we helped Nick, Michael and I were the last team to leave the refugio in the morning, the first team to summit Cotopaxi that day, and still the first team to arrive back at the refugio. I think our time spent climbing and trekking at higher altitudes is paying off.

Michael and I at the refugio (it was cold!), playing Cribbage

We got back to Latacunga that afternoon and slept for roughly 16 hours before breakfast the next morning. After a rest day, we will be on our way to Quito to meet my parents, who are coming to visit for the next two weeks! We are so excited to see them, to share some adventures with them, and to spend a few nights in comparative luxury!