After the (lack of) adventure in Osorno, I came up to Pucon, Chile to do the trophy trek of my trip, a 6 day trek around several volcanoes with the highest difficulty rating of any of the treks I had done thus far. Of course, when I arrived CONAF informed me that the trails were closed so I decided to climb the volcano since I was here and it sounded like a great trip. You either have to have a mountaineering certification or a guide to climb to the 2800 meter summit, and not having the former, I shelled out $80 for the latter. I was still pretty amped on it though, as it is one of the most active and climbed volcanoes in the world, as well as my first volcano summit attempt.
(L - Morning view on the ascent; R - Volcan Villarica towering above the shores of Lago Villarica in Pucon, Chile)
I started the day early; 3 am to be exact. Struggling out of bed I drank a cup of coffee, put down some food, checked the pack, and left for the bus. We left the tour office at 4 am to pick up equipment, and were probably walking around 5 am. The upside was that we avoided the circus that started later at 7 in the morning. We had a group of 9 with 3 guides. Unfortunately, every single one of them had almost no mountain/hiking experience, so the pace was a very, very slow walk up the mountain. The guides later said they felt bad for me and could see how bored I was, but there weren't enough people to break into a fast and slow group, so I had to stick it out during the long 5-6 hour ascent.
(The expedition)
(The Circus)
I was bumming on the way up because it wasn't just a slow pace; we were walking nearly half speed of just a typical sunday stroll in the park. It was killing me! Here I am supposed to be doing something new and exciting and challenging, and I am bored to tears. I was really trying to stay positive, but it was hard knowing I could have been up to the summit in at least half the time. The scenery sustained me however (barely), as it was amazingly beautiful and very clear, so we could see the up to several miles away. The coolest part on the way up was the excitement of carrying an ice axe, since it seemed to add to the whole drama and challenge, but it only lasted about 10 minutes, because you don't really use it at all. It is more just a precaution if you fall. Anyway, fiiinnnnaaalllyyy, we reached the summit.
(Steep hill side climb, amazing view)
(Volcano crater at the summit)
I have decided active volcano summits are much cooler in pictures (lucky for you guys), because active volcanoes have a habit of belching out nasty gasses, or at least this one did. Choking on the sulfur fumes, we made the final ascent to give us spectacular views of the surrounding area, and an impressive one of the crater as well. Sometimes you can see molten magma (that word is so cool, especially if you are an Austin Powers fan and can picture Dr. Evil saying it...maaagma), but I couldn't find a (safe) point to observe it. We rested on the top, ate lunch, took in the view, and gagged on some more sulfur fumes. The view helped ease my pains for the slow walk to the summit. From the top you could see various volcanoes towering over the surrounding mountain ranges, beautiful lakes filling the valleys below, stretching out to the horizon. But then came the reedeming factor of the trip.
(Far off volcanic peaks)
(Talk about casting a big shadow)
For those of you who didn't have the blessing of growing up in Tahoe, let me diverge for a moment and explain to you about sledhills. Snow sports abound in Tahoe, but in elementary school, it was all about sledding. We took this sport very seriously. We would come clad in our bright poofy jackets, suspender snow pants, and florescent colored Sorels (aka snow boots, but there was only one brand to have as a kid, and that was Sorels). Some times we would even lug our own sleds and saucers from home on the bus to be ridden at school. The creation of the tracks on the hills was a fine art that we dedicated every recess to, sliding and resliding down tracks on natural hills, as well as on piles created from the snowplows that would plow the blacktop play area behind our schools.
(L - chairlift on the slopes of Volcan Villarica; R - The (butt-sliding) descent)
Now, there are two kinds of slides: foot-slides and butt-slides (self explanatory), although butt-slides were the preferred choice usually as they also allowed for saucers and sleds to be ridden down them as well. Each track was different, but usually included the typical features of banking curves, bumps, jumps, and sometimes drop offs if there was enough snow. Those were called butt-breakers. Again, self explanatory. The tracks would develop and grow, sometimes freeze (making very painful butt-breaking butt-slides), and when a new snow came in, the creation of new tracks would start again. The snow hill was utter chaos, despite our playground aides trying to keep order, and we would bounce down the hill, narrowing avoiding each other (and sometimes slamming into one another!) before sprinting back the hill for another go. I chipped more than a few teeth on those hills and was taken out several times by classmates, and I am sure a survey of our class would not leave out broken bones and other injuries from the list. At least one person was guaranteed to cry each day, minimum. It was a beautiful scene, and one I miss dearly.
(Summit towards Villarica Valley)
Now the reason for the divergence. When I arrived in Pucon I thought of Volcan Villarica as a pretty snow clad peak, and worthy challenge to climb, and that it had adventure written all over it. What did not occur to me, until our descent, is that is the biggest, most epic sled-hill ever created on the face of the earth. As we gleefully slid down the little hill behind our school so many years ago, we never could have dreamed of a mountain to sled down that was so monstrously big, so wickedly steep, as this 8400 foot volcano. While I usually was at the end of the pack on the way up (so I could have some space between me and the other climbers), I made sure I was first down the sled hills, knowing my childhood preparation in the art of butt-sliding would make me the fastest sledder out there. The slides were amazing, twisting and turning down 60 degree slopes, sometimes tossing you up for a little air, and providing an adrenaline packed descent of the volcano. I would have climbed it again that day just to sled down it again. Heck, I might just come back to guide so I can sled down it everyday!
(Summit towards Volcan Lanin)
In the end, the climb was worth the money and a very fun experience, and I was glad I went on it. And with all the volcanoes in Chile, I wouldn't be surprised if I found myself climbing up, and then sledding down, another one in the near future.
No comments:
Post a Comment