Standing 6088m high, Huayna Potosi near the city of La Paz in Bolivia is considered as the easiest mountain above 6000m to climb. Each year, many backpackers who aren’t exactly mountaineers but simply outdoor enthusiasts attempt to reach the summit of this mountain. Armed with crampons and ice axe, the successful climber is rewarded with an astounding view of sunrise over the Andes upon reaching its peak. And maybe the bragging rights, if he desires.
Returning to the city from my journey around the stunning
landscapes of Bolivia, I had this hunger of doing something really challenging.
Huayna Potosi had been on my mind but I had doubts that I could make it. The
only peak I had successfully scaled that time wasn’t even half of its height.
Perhaps I had been talking to the wrong people when I decided to sign up for a
3-day climb of the mountain.
In a three-day climb, the summit attempt only commences at
an ungodly hour of the third day. The first day is generally spent on ice
climbing practice and the next on a 4-hour hike up to the high camp. I was
climbing with a French couple who said that they also didn’t have much
experience with mountains and that their only advantage over me was that snow
and cold wasn’t new to them. We’ve had much of our conversations filled with
charades. I really wish I had studied Spanish before going to South America.
We went to a nearby glacier to practice the use of our
crampons and ice axe. Just like most of the glaciers around the world, that one
was also receding. And it had been receding fast, according to our guide. Only
a few years back, the glacier extends much further.
We were taught how to use the ice axe as support while
walking up or down the slope. And how it could help us in case we accidentally
slide down. The hardest part was climbing an almost vertical slope of ice. With
crampons on, we had to thrust the tip of our boots on the ice and push
ourselves with the help of the ice axe to a wall of ice that is almost five
meters high. Upon completing the task, I was told by my guide that I did great
and he was confident that I would make it to the summit. Apparently, he was
wrong.
A French group was climbing a day ahead of us. I was
supposed to go with them but I felt like I wasn’t ready to leave yet and hoped
that I wouldn’t be sick anymore after a day. They all made it to the summit and
were very positive that our group could also make it. They suggested that I get
a porter. Maybe I should have gotten one but everyone was going back to the
city that day. I didn’t have a choice then but to carry my own pack.
The supposed four-hour climb to high camp on our second day
took me more than five hours. While I was carrying all of my stuff at the
beginning, my guide offered to take some of my things when he noticed that I
was lagging behind. I gave him my water bottle. And then my sleeping bag. By
the time we reached the first high camp, I just wanted to lie down. But ours
was still further ahead, 200m higher.
I looked up. It was a very steep climb. My guide started to
walk and I hesitantly followed. Every move I made caused my heart to beat
really fast and hard. For every minute of climbing, I needed three. My guide
kept on telling me that we’re almost there. But I couldn’t see the camp
anymore. He told me he’d carry my backpack. I wanted to say no but it was
getting late and we needed to move faster. I gave it to him and he carried it
on top of his own backpack which was probably a lot heavier.
Once we reached the refugio, I collapsed on the bed. We were so
far behind that the other guide was already preparing our dinner. After
having our meals, we went straight to bed.
It was a restless night for the three of us. I wasn’t even sure
if I get to sleep. All I could remember was being really cold and then hearing
the voices of our guides waking us up, telling us to prepare. I was still
groggy as I put on my boots and gaiters. My guide strapped a harness around me.
The two of us would be connected with a rope during the climb for safety. I
checked the time and it was 1:30 in the morning. It was snowing when we stepped
out of the refugio.
A lot of trekkers from the other refugio were already making
their way up. I could feel their enthusiasm but mine was lacking. I wasn’t
feeling well, though it must be purely psychological. I only had my water and
camera in my backpack but it felt like I was carrying a lot more. Aided only
with our head lamps, we followed the tracks made by the groups who went ahead
of us. And though we were walking at a steady pace at the start, I had felt
really tired after some time.
I kept on moving, but each step I took made my leg muscles shout
for pain. My heart was pumping so hard it felt like it would beat out of my
chest. I took really deep breaths but the thin oxygen in the air wasn’t enough
to supply what my body needed. My stomach was tightening and I was about to
throw up. I called my guide and lied about having altitude sickness. I didn’t
want to do it anymore.
My guide was named Jesus. And I thought since I got Jesus by
my side the whole time, I’ve got nothing to fear (pun intended). But Jesus was
so merciful that when I told him that I couldn’t go any further and that I
wanted to turn back, he immediately agreed. I wished he pushed me a little
more. Maybe it had made a big difference.
Jesus untied the rope and ran to the other group to inform
them that we’re turning back. I sat on the snow feeling miserable. I still wanted
to reach the summit but the pain and discomfort was already too much to bear. I
felt deceived. Why call it ‘easiest’ when it wasn’t even easy?
I wanted to blame others for my failure. My uncomfortable
boots. The pain on my back because the backpack they lent me wasn’t good
enough. The lack of sleep. My colds and clogged nose. Even hyperacidity. But
more than a year later, I realized that it was simply I who must take the blame,
if I really must blame someone. I wasn’t prepared physically. Neither was I
prepared mentally. Just recently while trekking in Nepal, I learned that in
order to achieve something, one must accept and surpass the pain that goes with
it. I didn’t know it back then. And now that I’ve gained more wisdom, I’m ready
to face that mountain again.
2017, come fast.
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