Tajamulco

This weekend I sumitted the tallest volcano in Central America, Tajamulco! Hannah, Rachel, Sarah, and I went with a local NGO called Quetzaltrekkers (really awesome people – check out their website: http://www.quetzaltrekkers.com/guateabout.html).

At 4:15am Saturday morning, we walked to the Quetzaltrekkers office at Casa Argentina with our packs ready to go. We had met the night before to fill our water bottles and borrow some gear. After a brief check in, 13 of us piled in the back of a pick up and headed for the Minerva Terminal. The 13 of us included us 4, a couple from Israel, a man from Ireland, a man from Idaho, two people from California, and 3 guides (1 British, 1 Canadian, 1 Guatemalan). We loaded into a chicken bus for San Marcos and left about 6:30am. Two hours later we arrived in San Marcos and ate a typical breakfast at a comedor at the bus station. Another one hour bus ride later we arrived at the trail head and started to hike around 9:30am. I received my backpack from the rooftop of our bus with several blood stains. I do not know if someone was bleeding on top of the bus or some dead animal was splattering about up there. I would rather not know. At this point, I was starting to feel the affects of the altitude. I had a runny nose all week as I readjusted to Xela climate after our free week in warm weather and the congestion was greater with the altitude. We started out at 3000m and headed up. The trail was well dug in but a bit muddy. A few places were quite steep and the rocks were easily dislodged from the trail. The altitude, grade, and 35-pound backpack made a difficult start to my first backpacking/camping hike. I spent most of the uphill climb breathing heavily and resting every so often while taking photos. All around the mountain you can see small villages in Guatemala and across the hills in Mexico. There were many green trees and farms. I also spent part of the climb chatting with Pete, one of our guides. Pete is from the UK but has been living and working in Central America for a few years. He is the most experienced of the guides and does most of the coordinating for the NGO because he has the strongest Spanish skills (you should hear Spanish with a British accent :).

Around 1:30pm, we arrived at base camp at 4000m. We hustled to set up the tents because the fog had come in around the mountain and the thunder was overhead. We knew rain would be upon us so we were quick to raise the tents. Fortunately, the girls and I got our own tent. Everyone joined us inside for lunch as the rain began. We eat peanut butter sandwiches and chips with hummus, a tomato and corn salsa, and a potato and veggie salad. This was some of the most flavorful food I have eaten in a while. After lunch, we made our sleeping bags and climbed in. The rain was coming down hard and it was quite cold. We bundled up and snuggled in. We spent the rest of the afternoon giggling, sharing stories, and feeling a bit loopy from the altitude. After night fell and the rain paused for a moment, we stood around a hot pot of Tang. Our spice kit with the tea bags and hot chocolate did not make it up the mountain but somehow the Tang did! Henry, our 15-year-old-looking Guatemalan guide, was having a panic attack about the forgotten spice kit and continued to remind us to look in our bags through the night. Amazingly, hot tang is not as bad as one would expect – anything warm to drink will help. This warm refreshment was followed by a garlic, pesto pasta dinner. The noodles were incredibly flavorful as well. Around 8pm, we climbed back into the tent as the rain began again and called it a night.

I slept well through the night despite the cold and my gurgling stomach. My new sleeping bag was a huge success in comfort, warmth, and maneuverability. When we woke up at 3:45am Sunday morning, my stomach was in a bad place. The pasta was not sitting well and I felt quite nauseous. Despite my discomfort, the clouds had cleared and you could see a million stars and the lights of the homes below. We piled on the layers and packed a few bags with more clothes for the summit. I quickly fell behind from the back and was overcome by my sickness. The combination of altitude and garlic resulted in a few leftover along the trail. Ben, another guide from Canada, stayed back with me. His encouragement included a combination of reminders to watch the colors change in the sky and details from his experience summitting Kilamangaro in Tanzania (I might be brazen enough to attempt this one day). The last hundreds of feet were mostly rocks which we had to climb and scramble. After my last expulsion of dinner and water, I felt like a champion and completed the final burst. The reward of an amazing sunrise at 4222m or 13,900 feet could not be captured in my pictures. I felt like I was on top of the world! The wind blew in cold and many people sat wrapped in their sleeping bags and the sun creeped over the horizon. The clouds looked like ocean waves rolling of the lower mountains. From the top we could see Santa Maria and Santiaguita, which surround Xela, the volcanos around Lago Atitlan, Antigua, and Tapachula, Mexico. The sun changed colors from red to orange to glowing yellow. We could even see the eruption at Santiaguita (commonly bursting with smoke and gases). The view was vale la pena (worth it) but I am not sure how ready I am to complete another huge altitude change with the leftovers of a cold and new food.

The descent was much simpler. We returned to base camp around 6:45am and enjoyed a hot breakfast of oatmeal/granola/cookies/mush. The walk down to the base took about two and half hours with a few breaks. At this point, my legs were sore from all the climbing the day before (and Baul on Friday – bad idea to climb another hike the day before). In my experience, the downhill is always more painful. Pete, Ben, and I chatted all the while on our way down. It was great to hear our people’s travel stories. I was more and more tempted to continue traveling and working abroad as I listened to their stories (sorry, Mom). At the bottom of the trail, we ate lunch at a local restaurant. The servings were huge and well deserved. My appetite had not quite returned but I felt significantly better than breakfast. We boarded a passing chicken bus back to San Marcos after lunch. At the bus station we had a quick transfer facilitated by the ayudante throwing our backpacks from the rooftop to the next bus’s ayudane – can you say, holy flying backpacks, Batman?! This was a Guatemalan first for me. The ride back was uneventful. We went back to the Quetzaltrekkers office as the rain back and unloaded the gear we borrowed and packed. We then walked home. I showered, snacked, and went to a café to check in with life after. Sunday was an early night to bed.