summit attempt of Vallunaraju (5686m)

The summit still 3 hours away

it's 2am in the morning, and I've been intermittently waking up every 30mins or so since trying to sleep at 6.30pm. it seems to be getting warmer in the tent - somehow in my glazed mind it's because of the snow that's banking up on the fly. I know I've got to wake up at some time, but desperately want to get some sleep in too.

we're already camping at 4850m, and our aim at 2.30am is to start the 6 hour climb to the peak of Vallunaraju - 5686m. (That's a 800m ascent, much of it over 5000m high. Man that sounds hard.) It sits proudly at the end of a valley in the Cordillera Blanca, aptly named as the many mountains there are dusted - or loaded as Vallunaraju was for us - with white (blanca) snow. It's not a technical summit, but at that altitude and with deep snow, it's not an easy final ascent.

we had started out the previous day from Hurarz at 7am, Piotrek (a Polish traveler who I had met through the agency) and Rolando, our wry guide. It's about a 1.5hr (and like 20km drive) out, and a nice surprise was being driven there by Fey who had taken me to Laguna 69. Fey? Odd name no? well tonight when coming back I found out that his name is actually Freddie! I could never work out why he looked at me odd...

Farmlands around Huaraz

Entering the parque with our 4wd

Fey runs a rather run down rattly taxi that may not look like much, but has the heart of a 4wd, and is certainly driven as one! Rocky roads, slushy river crossings, rain and hail.. we bumped and grinded our way through. Like the other day, the drive up to our starting point was beautiful - up through farmland first, then massive rockfaces, gurgling rivers and all with the dusted peaks around us.

Ronaldo and Piotrek about to start the climb up to base camp

Valle de Lluta - we are walking up the right hand side

Clouds part momentarily

So around 10am we started climbing the 550m to get us to our base camp. Now, perhaps because I may not be acclimatised, or indeed that fit, it was not easy. Lets just say I was huffing and puffing, ignoring advice to try and breathe through my nose cause I had an invincible belief that I couldn't get enough air that way... I needed my mouth open. In Nepal I was trekking at similar altitudes with only a day pack and less ascent - this time, it was with a fully loaded pack (clothes, sleeping bag, crampons, ice pick, kite, umbrella!) and with a steady (read some parts on all 4s) climb. Now I think I'm ok at altitude, but it well and truly had me.

Beautiful plays of light on the other side of the valley

Pointing at the air it seems

Boys navigating the poles at base camp

After setting up camp (or rather, me watching as the 2 able bodied men got confused with tent poles) and lunch, we (well I) struggled up over boulders to the first part of the glacier for me to find out about crampons. I've never used them before, and this trip appealed to me as it was a chance to learn. I guess there's not too much to them, and I do enjoy being just a tad taller! I also got to practice sliding and digging the axe in to stop... fun!

Marios pointing out where he had explored earlier in the day

Geared up to practice with the crampons

The rain had held off all day, but around 5pm the clouds really rolled in and the rain started. The luxury of having a guide/cook - getting hot food in the tent without any work! Piotrek and Ronaldo laughed at my umbrella, but it was also rather useful as a tent awning. About 6pm, we were all in the tent and after a bit of chatting tried to get some sleep. I felt so fatigued, and so happy to be lying down but lying there... nothing. It's always tricky getting sleep at altitude - but you try, and in the end get snatches.

2am

So 7pm rolls around, then 9pm, and then perhaps 10.45pm, then 11.30pm, and then i think it's time to get up, but then find out I've got some more time to sleep, then 1.30 comes and then after 1 final roll to my side, 2am! We pack up our packs, and use the beautiful moonlight to walk up over now icy boulders to the glacier. It's actually not that cold, as long as you don't get your hands wet as I did filling my waterbottle, and on the walk up I wore only my long sleeved baselayer, and fleece. But as we're going through snow and windy sections, I put my jacket on, suit and rope up, and then we're off.

2.30am - start of the glacier climb. Moon beautifully lit up the mountain

Ronaldo marking the way

It's bloody hard. I had thought that with a bit of rest and the walk before I'd be somewhat more adapted. Wrong! From this point to the summit it's a steady climb. No flat bits to relax on - just variations of steep. I was in the middle, so therefore walking (or trying to) in Ronaldo's holes. The snow was generally hard enough (that's why you summit early - before it gets slushy and soft) but it was still a bit of effort not to end up knee deep in snow. I would go about 10 steps on a small incline, or about 5 steps on a steeper one, before needing to stop. I was in good spirits, I felt ok, but just got so so tired, so so quickly.

4 hours later, I'm still just holding on, but now it feels like that after every 3rd step I need to stop and lie down to recover. I'm super hungry, but feeling a bit nauseous; feeling happy but fatigued; wanting to keep going but happy to stop. I decide that when the sun comes over the horizon, I'll stop. The summit is still 2 hours away, and to be honest although summiting appeals, I want to enjoy it too. 

The boys head off up to the summit

Sunrise comes...

So it's 6.15am, the horizon is warming up, the lights of Huraz are slowly disappearing, the blue/white of the snow is merging into first a warmer, then brighter white white. The others trudge off, and I sit down to enjoy the morning up on the roof of the world. The Cordillera is spread out around me, it's super quiet and I just sit and enjoy.... and scoff about 2 chocolate bars. Then my bum gets really really cold and as the sun is stronger now, I decide to start making my way down.

   

It's nice to be alone and at my own pace - stopping to take pictures, eat some more, chomp to de-ice my camelbak, rest when I want. It's much easier on the way down; I discover that it's easier to step on the edges of the up-tracks, rather than inside the footsteps, I do try and slide down but always get stuck in the deep snow. It's not suddenly easier though. I still get puffed and discover that my nose has run and solidified (yuck) on my face, but the sun is out, the snow is really sparkling, and I'm having a magical time.

On the way down I think about whether mountaineering is for me - I love trekking and hiking, and also the high altitudes. But the actual ascent of a peak? The challenge (physically or technically) of it? It doesn't really get me. Perhaps I'm not competitive enough, or not up for doing something just for the challenge, or perhaps I'm simply just a bit lazy to train so that I'm physically strong enough, or perhaps I'm just a bit clumsy, but somehow mountaineering isn't as attractive as trekking. I'm loving being up there, but don't feel bad that I'm not summiting.

So the sun is out in full force, the sky is generally clear, and all that white snow is making me hot. More derobing, more snacking and idling, and about 2 hours later I'm de-cramponed and back down at our tent to lie in the warm cocoon. I doze, I read, I snack, then I get active and pack up the tent and bags, and wait.

The others have continued to the summit, and they should be coming down about 3 hours after me. But 11.30am passes, then 12.30pm, then 1pm, and just as I'm planning how to notify the Guardaparque, they come. From about 100m after they left me, the snow got deeper. About thigh deep. And walking through snow that deep, at 5300m, for 3 hours more? Bloody tiring. A rather healthy portion of me is very happy that I didn't push on but of course, a small part of me wishes I had.

Heading back down

We lunch (now with Mariusz, another Polish mountaineer who we had met yesterday), and then start our way down. It's about 1.5 hours of rocks, mud and boulders. I must of looked like a 70y/o woman wobbling about her walking sticks. What can I say, I have no balance. And with a big pack? it's having a dead weight that swings me around. I'm persistent, I'm careful, but I'm all over the place. About 5 mins from the bottom, the rain and hail sets in. Fey is ready and waiting with the car, we bundle in and start the journey back to Huaraz.

Photo by Mariusz of Rolando and Piotrek approaching the summit

So 2 days - over 1300m climb - 800m of it on snow. I didn't quite make it, but am happy nonetheless.  I got to see the sunrise at over 5000m amid a white topped mountain range. In sparkly snow. The sun on my face. Eating chocolate. Not bad for a Friday morning hey!

Hiking Laguna 69

The fabled Laguna 69. Actually just a pretty lake.

Yes... there is a lake here in the Cordillera Blanca in central Peru, called Laguna 69. On questioning 3 agencies, the taxi driver and park ranger, it's just the number of the lake, nothing more. Though why lake 68 and 70 were rewarded with proper names, I don't know!

Morning views of the king of Cordillera Blanca - Cerro Huascaran (6768m). The Cordillera is the world's highest, most glaciated tropical mountain range.   

About 20minutes out of Huaraz

At 6am this morning I set off with 3 Israelis to hike up to this lake. Because the rain starts about 2/3pm, you need to get going early to take advantage of sunshine. to get there - 1 hour on pavement, then a 30 min breakfast stop at the designated surprise restaurant, then 1.5 hours on bumpy dirt road and we got up to our starting point of 3800m. The road wound it's way up through some pretty impressive slick rockfaces, and also went past a pretty lake too.

The laguna next to the starting point of the trek

Welcomed by the locals

One of the beautiful waterfalls on the way up

On arriving, the others had a smoko, and I started heading up. It's already pretty high, and i was definitely feeling the thin air already through the zig zagging inclines. The others were well behind, enjoying starting off slowly, accompanied by regular cookie breaks and chats. One thing I've noticed about Israelis of all ages - is that they are the most food focused group of people! It started with Shai, who I hiked with last year - part of his ultralight packing included a little coffee pot, ground coffee from Israel and of course, hell (cardamon). You meet a lot of Israelis in South America - most are of the 22-24 year age range, fresh out of 3-4 years in the military, over loud, over excited and sometimes over the top. But I've had great experiences with them - and part of this is because they are always trying to feed you!

Just shy of a clear view

This doesn't look so bad, but it was a climb climb climb. Up to 4400m.

First sneaky view of the Laguna

So back to the hiking... along the way I was overtaken by JD, who is volunteering here working with bees, and then played tag with 3 Canadian girls. There's always a nice comradery with other hikers on the hills. Wheezing and regularly stopping on the steep bits, and skipping and having fun on the marshy bits, I finally made it up to 4500m to be treated with the deep blue depths of the lake, and accompanied by the occasional crack of ice as the glacier above split.

Glacial rock down to the lake

Marissa and JD snacking

Hiking is a funny thing - on the way up, the rain starting to get heavier, having to stop every 10 minutes, i was like, stuff this hiking business. I started to plan my exit out of Huaraz, reasoning that it was better to spend what time I had left seeing Ecuador and Colombia, instead of hiking. After all I'm going to Nepal next so I reasoned that I'd get my fill there.

On our speedy descent. I saw also this other lake that I had missed on the way up

Then on the way down, even though we (I was walking with the others by now) descended fast and I had spells of nausea, I was back to, this is great! Of course I should take advantage of being here right now and get some more trekking in. But the wet sucks. it's ok when you can come back to a hot shower, but being sweaty from climbing and bouts of sun, then half soaked, but not enough to 'shower' before heading into a perhaps wet tent, is not all that fun.

On our drive down, suddenly this spare tire came onto our windscreen. Surprised that it didn't crack the existing oh about 20 deep cracks already there!

Tomorrow is a rest day as my big toe is recovering from the stupid sprain I game myself last Friday. Day after tomorrow, I'm pretty set to go on a 4 day hike from a lake called Churup. How sweet does that sound! Just got to take a naughty photo of the map in one of the gringo cafes here so I can have a chance of navigating the not so obvious route over the glacier/snow section...

Nearing town 

Now we're entering civilisation - complete with a electricity.

Before I sign off... The end to our hike was the bumpy, swervy, splashy and still nauseous ride back to the paved section. The road takes you through many small pueblitos (villages) on the approach to the bigger town. Houses are mud and plaster (though how this works when it rains heavily for 4 months a year) and as you near town, often feature blaring slogans of political candidates. What was special about today, was that it was Tuesday, because... each Wednesday and Sunday are the market days in Yungay. Market days begin at sunrise, and are important as this is when the campesinos (people from the country) can earn money to then buy staples such as rice. These local markets are also frequented by buyers who then take them to Lima to sell for a profit. So, in readiness for the next day, all the women and men were waiting (and trying to wave down our full taxi) for taxis to take them and their colourful bundles of wares (in this case carrots, lettuces, rocotos (spicy bell beppers), flowers, potatoes and other veggies) down to market. I wanted to get a picture of them, but feel rude snapping away from inside the car as we slid past. They are a really interesting sight - these women of the Alitplano, wearing the big colourful skirts with bowler hats, at this time covered with plastic bags for the rain. Huddled around them or strapped to their backs are children, who help carry things also - or have a great time playing in the mud.

The alive with pleasure moment? The smiles on people's faces, as they stood in mud and pouring rain as it grew dark and chatted with each other.

on the road for 1 year - pictures and reflections

The day of my first ever riding lesson... when my South American travels changed forever...

the thing is, it's been just over 1 year of travelling. it doesn't feel like it, i wonder whether i've changed or become a more balanced person, how my experiences, who i've met, what i've seen - the good and bad, will shape my future and whether it is all worth it?? in the moment i think, well i'm the same person, i've not changed, but when I remember back over the months of travel, things emerge that start to make me think that yes, it has been worth it and I have/am becoming a better person for it. 

so. time for some reflection. but before I dive into that heavy stuff, i thought in memory of my simon's cat t-shirt given to me at the start of my travels by mike in london (that is now about to be retired due to overuse), I'd mention that i've put together two highlights reels (one of Simon's Cat, other of all highlights) of experiences that have made it so wonderful. The full albums on Picasa have more detailed captions that I didn't reproduce in full in this post.

Chasing South America - 2011
A year with Simon's Cat
Not all the pictures are mine.. so thanks to... Sara and Kim for pics from Buenos Aires, Rick and Shai for pics from Antarctica, Ushuaia and Torres del Paine, Dana for pics from Antarctica and Mendoza, Julia for pics from Bariloche, Fred and Philipe for pics from Bolivia and biking, Mark for pics from Sucre and rafting and Matt for pics from Santiago.

so onto the heavier stuff... for me, the past year of travel has not been like a holiday... i'm not 'taking a break' from the routine of daily life, i'm not resting and getting over a stressful six months or project, i'm not trying to make best use of the little time I have... rather travel IS my routine, I have no time pressure apart from that which I create for myself, there's not really any tickboxes of things to see or do, and it's who you meet that mostly shapes your travels.

for all this, it does sound pretty luxurious, and I'm really thankful that I've had the opportunity to do it, but, (I guess there's often a but) there's times that I crave having a job to put my effort into, regular friends to muse about how shit and wonderful life is over a glass of wine after said job, having my own kitchen, having comforts of books, artwork and creative activities around me that I could dapple into when I felt like it, and the consistency to really get into and enjoy life in one spot. Moving around constantly, or even staying somewhere for a while (like I have done for the past 2 months getting dental treatment or studying spanish) does have a routine, but you get lazy. You stop making efforts to be 'touristic', you become conscious of the money you're spending to just live, you get sick of eating out nearly every meal, you get anxious about moving on, then you stress about finding a suitable hostal or hidden camping spot as dusk falls, and all in all you feel just a little guilty that this is all you really seem to worry about.

goodness, it all sounds like I'm a little down with it all; partly I think it's because of the thrice weekly dental appointments of the past 2 months, partly because after 1 year money is not something I can happily ignore anymore, partly becuase at some point I'm going to have to decide what's next. But I'm going to stop with all that now. It's enough no?!

So... what about the things that make it truly worthwhile? For me they have been...

• the wonderful experiences of meeting people who work 6 days a year and earn less than $10/day to support their family, yet still welcome you into their home and share their food, or others that invite you to spend a week living in their house and sharing their lives

Stewart in the Bolivian jungle invited us to stay a week at his house

Invited to share beer, chatting and food (and the verandah to pitch our tent on) after being stranded near Rurre, Bolivia.

We camped in Eva's grandparents yard, and even had a delightful orange grove shower in Bolivia.

• meeting other travellers on similar journeys who are going about it in different ways - like cycling the length of South America up 4500m passes and through the desert, or volunteering at various farms, education, construction and other aid projects

Chase, Urban, Steffan, Ziss, Carmen, Miguel, Jon, xmas orphans Dec 2011 Buenos Aires

Paulus, from Lithuania... pass conquering, cold bearing, chain smoker cyclist!

• seeing the wonderful colours of indigenous communities who still preserve their way of life (partly for tourism, but partly to retain their cultural identity) I love the top hats worn by Bolivian altiplano women... doesn't seem to have any practical use but matches their gold or purple billowing skirts and tights

Bolivia women in their bowler hats

In the Lares Valley near Cusco... beautiful embroidered hats and colourful ponchos still worn by kids going to school

Ever enterprising... the girl without the hat is 12 years old and weaves before and after school to help support her family. THe little boy is wearing the traditional poncho.

• learning about practices of indigenous cultures, and the steep learning curve of aid organisations when they try to make improvements (from their eyes) 
• becoming aware of the person you are in situations - like pushing on extra kms to find water or a safe place to sleep, not being able to sleep because it's too cold and there's ice forming INSIDE your tent on your sleeping bag, how you tell your story for the 176th time to the new traveller you meet, how you deal with feeling alone, away from your family and friends and the isolation of where you've got yourself, how you feel when you're in one fo the most amazing places you've ever been, and you want to remember it forever.

Bundling up against cold camping at 4200m. The evening before ice on sleeping episode

Taking refuge on the altiplano winds in Bolivia

Just a routine chain tightening on the lowlands in Bolivia

• experiencing things and conquering situations that you never thought you'd be able to deal with - taking 1 step forward for every 4 steps backward in rain on slippery rocks after falling into a river because of the ferocious wind while hiking, swimming in Antarctica, getting just a little lost following pig tracks in the cloud forest, being awed watching your 70 year old parents ascend 1200m in 4 hours at 6am in the morning

Dana and I swimming in Antarctica. Yes. it was bloody freezing.

Perfect day in Torres del Paine after 4 days of rain

Cerro Piltriquitron in El Bolson, Argentina... my first view of the entire expanse of the Andes mountain range

First solo 4700m pass, 1 month after learning to ride a bike

• challenging yourself to keep going when things are not great - reminding yourself why you got yourself there, and finding a moment to put you back on track again

Near Laguna Colorada, Bolivia. The hardest riding I've ever done.

Trailing after my parents descending into the deepest canyon of the world in the Colca, Peru

• having the time to think, write, take pictures, draw knowing that's your main activity for the day

Being awed by the Andes yet again, this time from the other side (Chile)

• and of course.. the beautiful landscapes, inspriring people and moments of pure happieness of being where you are at that moment.

Inpromptu tango with Kim in Buenos Aires

Enjoying finally being in the mountains 2 months after arriving in South America

Jumping with Julia at Nahuel Haupi NP near Bariloche in Argentina

Blimps in Argentina

Bit of salar yoga is good for the soul no?

Trailing after my parents descending into the deepest canyon of the world in the Colca, Peru.

Thinking back over specific memories that make me smile, the following are a start at what I hope will stay with me forever..

• Riding out of Calama on my small 200cc bike at the head of 3 other big bikes (and big german/swiss men - Fred, Philipe and Kurt) .. about to conquer the Bolivian Altiplano and largest salt flat in the world as part of a very special family

Oh yes, my 200cc bike led this 650, 1100 and 1000cc bike out proudly!

• The immediate comradry of meeting other bikers, swapping notes on good and bad routes, discussing mechanical issues, the joy of travelling on two wheels, and the feeling of being with people that know what it's like to travel on a bike! 
• Travelling with my parents in Peru - trekking, camping, visiting Machu Picchu, having wonderful conversations about life

Mum in the Lares Valley near Cusco

Looking down at Machu Picchu

• Being awed by the light, expanse and majesty of Antarctica, and being introduced by Dana to the luscious but deadly Pisco Sour on the boat in Antarctica

Dana's photo - thanks!

• Riding out of Santiago on the back of the bike after approximately 2 hours driving experience, and then riding the bike back in, fully loaded with a passenger 2 days later after finding my 'wheels' riding gravel in a quarry in the Cajon del Maipo outside Santiago in Chile. Sure beat doing circles around city parks in Santiago!

Finding my wheels in the Cajon del Maipo.

• Maneouvering my bike into a run down gatehouse just off Ruta 40 in Argentina and being treated to a beautiful sunset (one of those moments to put things back into perspective and on back on track)

Riding 20kms of muddy road only dropping the bike once, after the 4 drops and 4 hours of travel on the way in. Northern Argentina (Baritu National Park)

• Being surprised by the natural formations of the Lago Queni hotsprings in Patagonia with Max.. natural pools in a cascading river, then lathering up in mud to have some spa treatment

• Hiking the full circuit of Torres del Paine in 5 days instead of the normal 9 - for this I have to thank Rick and Shai

• Seeing the length of the Andes mountain range stretch out before me from Cerro Piltriquitron in El Bolson 

• Going for dusk runs and morning meditations in the Eco Yoga Park near Buenos Aires.

Remolacha = Beetroot - one of my first words learnt in South America

• Camping on the floor of a tourist restaurant in isolated southwest Bolivia near the Arbole del Piedra (Rock Tree), and being greeted in the morning by loads tourists bundling out of 4WDs to have their breakfast
• Having the hot spring next to the restaurant to ourselves after a week of really hard riding and not so hot showers

At the Arbole de Piedra, Bolivia

• The hot shower in Tarija bolivia after 1 week of bathing in rivers 
• Being culinaryly creative with Yas and Matt in our hostel kitchen in Santiago, then going for hike with fig and goats cheese tart as a snack!

Easter egg hunting ... 5.45am:)

I'm going to stop now... i'm getting all nostalgic and want to do bits of it again! But the journey continues... I'm now in Arequipa in southern Peru, but I'm about to fly fly fly away.. northwards for a European Xmas. (what!!!) I'm going to Vienna (with a lil side trip to London) to spend xmas with Philipe and his family and friends, and then we will head back via New Orleans (to eat eat eat which I've been dreaming about for a very long time), a 10 day silent (now, don't laugh, i'll see how I go!) meditation seminar in Dallas, and for me a very anticipated reunion with my cousin Lisi. Then its back to Lima first, then down to Arica in Northern Chile where we've left our bikes (Peruvian visa reasons) and back on the road, 2 up on the sidecar, up to Ecuador, Colombia and then who knows?!

My travel is still evolutionary, it's still chasing serendipity... and we will see where the next year takes us all!
Thanks for keeping me company and inspring me to keep on going;)
Lots of love
Susan