11 PM, January 17, 2011 (5000 meters, 16, 400 feet): Dressed in so many layers, I feel warm in the frozen weather. 5 companions, 3 mountain guides, and I leave the Mt. Chimborazo refuge at 16,000 feet to attempt a summit of the largest mountain I have ever seen.You may remember my recent successful summit of Mt. Cotopaxi. The cold pierced my bones, the fatigue caused my legs to almost crumble like a ragdoll, and the 19,344 ft altitude gave me a hacking cough. Whatever unneccesary pain that experience brought, a harder challenge lay ahead.
12 AM, January 18, 2011 (5,200 meters, 17,000 feet): Our consistent line of 9 climbers reaches the glacier. We stop for a short rest to fasten crampons on our boots, unstrap our ice axes, and form groups of three connected by a rope. Augmenting that of our headlamps, the full moon casts a bright light over the whole mountain. When we look up, we get visual confirmation that our next few hours will be very painful.
At 20,702 feet above sea level, Chimborazo is the highest mountain in Ecuador. Regardless of the more than 8,000 feet of altitude it lays below Mt. Everest, Chimborazo sits so close to the equator (and therefore the equatorial bulge), that its summit i
s the farthest point from the center of the Earth.2 AM, January 18, 2011 (5,700 meters, 18,700 feet): The ridge has been gained and dangerous ridge scrambling has been surmounted. At points, the ridge is wide enough for only one foot placement, so lucidity and concentration are gravely needed. A steep snow field now looms above us, and we begin making switchbacks as we climb higher and higher toward the summit.
After multiple high-altitude camping trips, feeling acclimated and in shape, we (my companions and I) found ourselves in the refuge, tucked in our sleeping bags at 5,000 meters. The mountain looked appetizing, conditions were good (not much snow), and successful summitting stories were abound from recent days.
4:30 AM, January 18, 2011 (6,000 meters, 19,700 feet): After 2 1/2 hours of continuous climbing up a snowy slope with a much greater angle of repose than your normal sand dune or type-example stratovolcano, the snow begins to give way. What had been a nice slick ice sheet t
opped with packed snow 24 hours before, is now a two foot-deep layer of loose snow flakes. Every two or three steps means a defeated fall into the soft-packed snow and at least 30 seconds of stasis so I can catch my breath. Thought to be the tallest mountain in the world until the early 19th century, early summit attempts ended in bittersweet failure. Two famous attempts, in 1802 and 1831, marked the highest elevation attained by a European in recorded history (19,280 ft and 19, 704 ft, respectively). Legendary English explorer Edward Whymper successfully reached the summit in 1880 on his first attempt.
The afternoon and evening spent in the refuge was tranquil inside yet volatile outside. As we sat playing cards, relaxing, and passing time, snow and sleet battered the roof and came fluttering in through whatever holes existed.
5 AM, January 18, 2011 (6,100 meters, 20,000 feet): My legs are failing, the snow won´t hold my weight, my head begins to throb, my stomach threatens to expunge the apple I ate a few minutes back, and I begin to exhibit a dry cough. As I look up the slope to check what lays ahead, I see the distant headlamps of other climbers hundreds of feet above. The cautionary words of my mother echo through my head ¨If you feel the altitude, its OK to turn back.¨ As much as it hurts my inner self to admit it, I have reached my physical limit. I decide to descend. Since my climbing companion is fresh and ready to continue, our guide contacts another group via walkie-talkie and arranges for me to descend with them. As I sit alone in the snow waiting to descend, I turn my headlamp off to appreciate the stars. The co-existent beauty and sadness of this moment overcome me and I begin to cry. I really wanted to reach the summit. Yet I sit here at 20,000 feet above sea level, farther on top of the world than I have ever been, and I cannot help but appreciate all that I have around me. Both my immediate world and the abstract concept of life itself.
The decision to turn back was both easy and difficult. I recognize how rare and precious it is to find oneself in a position like that, and I wanted to absorb it for all it was worth. But when I realized my physical abilities were overcome by the mountain, I really had no choice.
5:15 AM, January 18, 2011: I rope up with my companions and we begin our long descent. Of the two friends I am now connected with, I am clearly the most lucid. The one placed in the front of the rope suddenly drops to his knees for 2 minutes of uncontrollable vomiting. While most of the horrid sounds do not expel any material from his mouth, I notice a small green pool of melted snow as I pass. Our descent lasts another 2 1/2 hours. My desire for pictures has been eradicated under these extreme conditions, so I will not have many to show. The sunrises as we descend, and the clouds below look like layers of a cake. My altitude issues subside and my fatigue materializes as the most grave of my current ailments.
In the end, I pushed my limit, challenged the mountain, and reached an altitude at which I may never again stand. While I really wanted to make the summit, it was out of my reach. And you know what? That´s OK. Instead of making the top and possibly losing my life, I would rather live to tell the tale to the rest of you.
