Ruca Pichincha

I probably should be studying and not making another blog entry after the most recent one this past Saturday. However I can't help not telling the everyone about an incredible experience I had yesterday. Several students from the spanish school I have been studying at, and I, decided to hike up to one of the peaks of volcanos that surround Quito. The combined peaks are known as the Pichincha range, and the one we chose to hike up is known as Rucu Pichincha. The young English guy in our group assured us it was an easy ascent and I, not having a guide book or any other source of information, agreed to come along. We actually were greatly helped in our ascent by a new cable car that the Ecuadorian government has built called the teleferico. This brand new cable car took us from the floor of the city of Quito which is about 9,500 feet, up to 12,800 feet (according to the altimeter on my watch).


We began our trek along some gently sloping hills, gradually easing along with no idea of the trip we were about to undertake. Slowly but surely the nicely sloping hills turned into a steeper and steeper vertical challenge. This would not be thought of as particularly intense, but due to the altitude, the lack of oxygen made each step just a little more difficult.


Our grouped hiked along the ridge of a vast expanding sierra plain, with little more that the occasional bush to break the sea of tundra grass tufts. As we ascended higher, breaking 13,000 feet, the altitude began to really take its toll. The Ecuadorians don't believe in switchbacks, and so I would have to hike for 10 minutes only to rest for five. Remarkably once you stopped you quickly recovered as the the oxygen content of you blood climbed back up.


Two hours into the hike we reached the base of what could be described as the main peak; this is where it went from very steep to veritably vertical. By this time we were all somewhat fatigued, but persevered on.



The path wrapped around the back side of the mountain and timidly hugged the side of a 50 degree slope that at times dropped at least 1-2000 feet to your right before flattening out.



Now I was limited to 100 meter jaunts before I was completely out of breath. The pounding in the back of my head grew louder, and I could hear every beat of my heart as it resonated across my skull.


After about 45 minutes of this we reached the final pitch. Now about at 14, 600 feet, we were approaching the highest altitude in the whole lower 48, and we still had a little under 1,000 feet left to go. Now almost 3 hours into a very strenuous hike, I was more than a little fatigued. As I stared up at the last pitch I was a little disheartened; squinting against the sun I saw a 600 foot 45 degree slope of pure sand, banked by even steeper semi vertical boulders. After you got past the sand, it was all sharp rocks that led to a final scramble for the summit.


Digging foot steps into the sand, I tried not to think about the fact that if I slipped or fell, it would be a nice 1000 foot slide until it bottomed enough to stop myself (although by that time I would probably be unconscious and close to death). I could only go about 10 meters at a time before I had to stop for air, and by now the altitude made me feel like I had had about 4 or 5 beers, stumbling trying to put my foot in the right place. If you didn't stop to get air and get your oxygen levels back up, your vision would start to faintly dim and stars came out. I am sure there are those out there that have been much higher, but this is also the same altitude at which oxygen is mandatory for the cabin and crew of all unpressurized aircraft.


45 minutes later and 400 hundred feet higher we were at 15,000 feet and I was definitely having coordination issues. This is not a reassuring fact when I still had 400 feet left on the most exposed ridge on the mountain with a 1500 drop on one side and 2000 on the other. Clumsily I passed several people too illequipped to go further and scrambled up a pitch that was not actual rock climbing, but more that made up for this in the danger provided by the loose rocks and debris comprising foot and hand holds. And I was still having trouble coordinating my movements as my head now felt like one giant bubble about to burst.


And then rather suddenly it just flattend out. I was there! I had reached the top and felt dizzy just standing up staring out across the plains I had just conquered. 15,416 feet, the highest I had ever been, and higher that anywhere in the lower 48.




After a moment more I regained my composure and slowly made my way back down the crumbling rocks until I was back on the trail again 30 minutes later. While my coordination improved the lower I got, I now had a really killer headache that throbbed all the down, bad enough to throw up once or twice. I was assured that this was normal, and would go away by tomorrow!

Intrigued by the experience, I am going to look into other opportunities for some real mountaineering here in Ecuador!