Nevados Pisco and Chopicalqui

Our rest day was glorious and sunny, spent lounging and reading on the hostel’s terraces, walking around Huaraz, and eating some good meals.  While not entirely ready to go at it again (speaking for myself, at least), our time was already running short, so we headed out for a 6-day climbing excursion in the Llanganuco Valley.

We hopped on a bus with a truly amazing amount of stuff.  Michael, Matt and Juan had to work pretty hard assisting the bus guys in getting all of our stuff up and down the rickety, frail ladder to the top of the bus.  Three hours later, we were deposited on the side of the road near a burro station for climbers.

Juan, our porter/cook, with his characteristically large load.

Our first objective was Nevado Pisco, an 18,870 ft mountain.  We loaded up four burros and started the journey to Pisco Meadow Camp along a good but steep trail. The clouds were busy moving in and out, making it impossible to regulate our body temperatures.  In typical Andes fashion, the sun was set to “broil” and, when it made its appearance, it felt like we were at risk for heat stroke – only to start shivering as it ducked behind the clouds and the wind picked up. But at least there was no rain.

Nevado Pisco

We arrived at camp a little after lunch and Juan found a cave in which he set up his cooking supplies. We hung out and rested all afternoon, entertained by a particularly friendly and bold burro that we named Earl. He was more like a large, mellow dog than a pack animal.

Me with Earl, the burro

Michael and Earl the burro getting comfortable with each other

Our wake-up time was set for 1:30 a.m.  At 1:20 a.m., it started snowing.  We decided to wait an hour. At 2:30 a.m., the mountains were completely socked-in with clouds.  We decided to wait two more hours.  At 4:30 a.m., the skies were mostly clear and we decided to give it a shot.  By 5:30 a.m., when we were ready to leave, the clouds had rolled in again. We figured we´d give it a go anyway in the hope that it would clear.

Me approaching Pisco

Unfortunately, it was an absurdly long way from meadow camp to the glacier, starting with a very steep hike up the first moraine, down the other side, across the boulder-covered glacier, up a second moraine, and finally following a rock-covered ridge to the glacier. At the top of the first moraine, Kelsey began feeling sick and was still exhausted from our Vallunaraju climb. Since the weather looked bleak, we encouraged her to return to camp and rest.  Heeding our encouragements, she bade us farewell, returned to camp, passed out for three hours, and enjoyed a day of reading and awkward conversation with Juan.

Working our way up the rocky ridge on the way to Pisco!

Michael, Matt and I slowly worked our way through the moraine, hoping that the longer we waited to ascend the mountain the more chance we had of good views.  We waited by the moraine lake, then we waited by the glacier, then we waited at the col… always watching the skies for signs of clearing.  Many other teams climbing that day followed the old traditional climbing rule of thumb and left early in the morning, despite the clouds and bad weather.  Each passed us on their descent, all complaining that the summit was completely socked in.  Fortunately, by late morning - just as we had hoped - the clouds slowly cleared, giving a beautiful view of the Paron Valley from the col. 

Matt and I at the col, with Huascaran Norte in the background

But by the time we made it up the mountain to the cloud line, it was mid-day and I was feeling burnt out with climbing, having had far too much time to think about it during our many long stops.  So, about 1,000 feet from the summit, I turned around despite feeling physically fine. Within 20 minutes, I looked back and the sun was shining on the summit.  I was kicking myself the rest of the way down. Michael and Matt reached the summit at the perfect time, basking in good weather and enjoying Pisco’s famously good views, the only team that day to see anything at all.

Matt, jumping for joy

Michael, near the summit of Pisco

Apparently, Michael and Matt decided not to rope up on the descent and both somehow managed to slip down a steep section and come close to falling head-first into the only legitimately-dangerous crevasse, one right after the other. They were laughing and teasing each other about it when they returned to camp, and I still haven’t the faintest idea how much danger they were actually in.  Michael assures me not much.

Matt, taking in the views on the descent of Pisco

We kicked around the idea of the guys attempting Huandoy Norte, a difficult 21,000 ft peak which loomed over our camp, and the girls going for a backpack to an astoundingly-beautiful, gem-like lake called Laguna 69.  But, in the end, we decided to stick together and attempt Chopicalqui (“Chopi”), a beautiful peak on the other side of the valley next to the Huascarans (Peru´s highest peak) that required us to establish two successively higher camps – base camp and moraine camp - before making a summit bid.

Nighttime clouds swirling around Huascaran Sur

My heart was set on seeing Laguna 69 and I was on the fence about attempting Chopi given how burnt out I had felt on Pisco, so I decided to hike to the lake by myself while the others made their way over to Chopi base camp, and meet them at camp late in the afternoon.  My plan was to traverse across a large mountainside, drop down to the lake, then follow the well-established trail down the main valley to the road, where I would hitchhike the several kilometers to Chopi’s base camp.  Everything went mostly according to plan. I had the gorgeous lake to myself for lunch before the day-hikers arrived and made good time getting all the way back down and across the valley. When I finally reached the road, traffic was non-existent, so I hiked up the road to the Chopi base camp (a collectivo showed up as soon as I reached my destination, of course), arriving by about 4pm. 

Meanwhile, Matt had been hit hard by what he dubbed “HASH” – High Altitude SHits. He looked absolutely terrible and completely drained of energy.  Instead of returning to Huaraz, he pushed through the sickness and, slowly but surely, made his way to Chopi base camp. He barely emerged and ate almost nothing all that day and night. However, by the next morning, after some antibiotics and about 17 hours of sleep, he had a miraculous recovery. His face had color again, his energy returned, and he was ready to head up to Chopi moraine camp.

Matt, recovered from HASH, but well on his way to becoming the missing link between humans and the Yeti

While I was feeling drained from my hike to the lake, I decided that I wanted to finish our climbing trip strong and go for Chopi’s summit as well.  So I joined the others in dragging my feet up the 2,000 feet to moraine camp, an assortment of flat tent spots among boulders that are protected from the near-constant and thunderous ice and rock fall from the flanks of Chopi and the Huascarans. 

Moraine Camp, with Chopicalqui looming overhead

Chopi´s lofty summit sits at roughly 20,811 feet – higher than any mountain in North America, and higher than 5 of the Seven Summits (exceeded only by Everest and Aconcagua).  From moraine camp, we had 4,500 vertical feet to climb in order to reach the summit – an ambitious amount at that altitude.  As we rested that afternoon, Kelsey started feeling the effects of HASH as well and decided that it was probably best to forego a summit bid. She made the right call, as she spent most of the next day sick in the tent and couldn’t even eat dinner. Thankfully, she recovered by the next morning for the hike and drive back to Huaraz.

Early in the morning, with the moon setting between the Huascarans

So, Michael, Matt and I woke up at 1 a.m., all a little doubtful about whether we would make the summit – especially given how tired we were from our previous climbs - but wanting to give it our best effort.  The climb was absolutely BEAUTIFUL. The skies were clear with a full moon slowly setting between the massive summits of Huascaran Sur and Huascaran Norte. We steadily made our way up and up and up, below a massive rock band and over the rolling glacier past Chopi´s highest camp (a stay at which we decided to forego). We then gained the Southwest Ridge, witnessed an incredible sunrise, and worked our way up very steep slopes (luckily we had brought two ice axes each!) and around crevasses to the summit.   

Sunrise on Chopi´s Southwest Ridge

Chopi´s summit ridge

Near the summit, each step took a great amount of energy and queasiness was felt by all. Suffice to say, roughly 21,000 feet is REALLY high. In 7.5 hours, the three of us had pushed through the exhaustion and effects of altitude, reaching the sunny, yet cold, summit at about 10 a.m. Considering we were right around the same altitude as Everest’s Advanced Base Camp, we figured that we were three of a handful of the highest people in the world at that exact moment. Pretty exciting.

Negotiating the summit mushroom

Michael and Matt celebrating at the summit, nearly 21,000 feet high

After a short summit celebration and some pictures, we started the slow and tedious descent.

Near moraine camp, but still on the glacier, the Andes' incredible range in temperature reared its ugly head again and baked us with almost unbearable heat.  We made it safely back to moraine camp and slept all that afternoon and night.  The next day, we descended to the road and made our way back to Huaraz.  

Descending into the clouds

Working my way around an ice cliff high on the Southwest Ridge

Me downclimbing through a tricky crevasse area

After showers and a little rest, the four of us met up again for some celebratory beers and our last dinner together. Matt and Kelsey took a bus the next morning to Lima, heading home exhausted but satisfied.  Our two weeks together absolutely flew by.  It was a very amazing and successful two weeks.

Matt, Michael, Kelsey, and me

Michael and I head home in two days.  All-in-all, in the past three months, Michael summitted eight mountains over 18,000 feet and I summitted six – all technical.  That´s a lot of climbing!!  And a lot of discomfort – especially considering that we also did one six-day and two three-day backpacking trips.  We definitely experienced the Andes!!   “Amazing” is the only word that describes our time here.  However, after 3 ½ months traveling the wilds of South America, we are ready to return.  We miss the company of our family and friends, and the comforts of our Oceanside, Oregon home.  After experiencing so many places here in South America, we are more confident than ever in our belief that Oregon (particularly the coast!) is one of the finest places to live in the world.  We both look forward to our next stage of life together, as attorneys at Albright Kittell, with many travels and adventures left ahead of us.  

Just an FYI - Michael is making a video of our time climbing in the Cordillera Blanca which he is really excited about, so be on the lookout for that in the next couple months!!!