Hiking this mountain was definitely among the top 5 most intense things I have ever done. Up there with summiting two Colorado fourteeners in one day while winter backpacking, biking over 90 miles per day across the Nevada summer desert, and skydiving.
Logistics:
Sunday afternoon - Gear check and hike to Refuge (4800 meters, 15, 800 feet.) Learn to walk on the glacier with crampons and an ice axe. Try to rest.
Monday morning - Wake up at midnight. Dress, eat breakfast, and begin climbing by 1 AM. Reach glacier at 2 AM. Begin ice climbing. Reach summit at 6 AM just as the sun is rising.
Here I show myself and my 5 companions doing our gear check before our hike to the refuge. I cannot decide whether Jack there on the left ruined the picture or enhanced it with the behind the legs crotch-grab.
I came highly equipped for this climb. Layers included 3 pair wool socks, two pair glove liners and one pair waterproof winter mittens, three layers on bottom, 5 layers on top, a scarf, a bandana for the face, and two hats. In my opinion, unless you are Sam Horstmann, no matter how many layers you wear, you will freeze your ass off.
Regardless of all these layers, most of my group neglected to bring along a sleeping bag. Not for the climb itself, but for easy resting in the Refuge before its start. With the temperature hovering around freezing, we lay spooning on top of bare mattresses wearing all of our layers. More than rest or relaxation, this was a period of mental preparation.
Hiking to Refuge from the parking lot below. You can see our equipment on our backs and the behemoth mountain towering above us.
The hike itself started out harmless enough. After an hour of hiking up scree, we reached the glacier. From then on, the going got easier with crampons and ice axes. Two climbers per guide connected by a rope. As it was dark most of the way up, we could neither see the large drop offs awaiting us below 8-inch-wide ledges, nor peer into the depths of the ice cravasses we so giddily jumped across. Say hello to our energetic 3 AM faces. One of the first stops, and not yet drained of energy or sick from altitude.
The sun came up as we were just below the summit. The entire night had been headlamps and lack of visibility. When the sun came up, and the colors of the sunrise replaced the darkness of stars and night sky, the beauty was tantamount to anything in my recent past. Out of this world.
The summit was invigorating, but not quite as climatic as one may expect. We got caught in a snow storm with zero visibility, not to mention temperatures far below zero Fahrenheit and piercing winds. After the obligatory yodeling, pushups, and summit photo, my two American companions and I started down. A few minutes down, we encountered the other three from our group. One was vomiting from altitude sickness, another hallucinating stars in the air and electricity flowing through his rope, and the third (we were told) passed out in the snow 30 seconds after our salutation. Regardless of the challenges, all six of us made it to the top.
I did not feel much altitude sickness. This I found strange, since it has affected me at 12,000 feet. The most I felt was some lightheadedness and dizziness walking down. Goes to show that it affects everyone differently and can be very unpredictable.
Once all down (at 9 AM remind you), the collective attitude was one of such miserable fatigue that although it was a great experience, we would never attempt such a crazy mountain again. An hour later, back in the van on our way to Quito, we decided to attempt Chimborazo (longer, taller, steeper, and with more ice, but 1) the point in the world both farthest from the center of the earth and 2) the point closest to the sun).
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