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Misti Volcano
Rising over 19,000 feet, Misti Volcano towers majestically over Arequipa. Seen from every street corner in town, I was done admiring her, it was time to CONQUER!

Myself, and 10 other intrepid explorers (more commonly referred to as, dumb gingos), joined forces to tackle her perfectly cone-shaped, active peak. Weighed down physically by close to 50 pounds of gear, with second thoughts weighing us down mentally, we began the climb on a heavy note.

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A scorching hot beginning soon turned bitterly cold. The first 1,000 meters saw a change of at least 60 degrees F (for those of you Celsius peeps, 25/30 degrees). Beach bum to Eskimo in a matter of hours. The climate change also brought a massive environment change. From the lush surrounds (well, as lush as the Andean mountains can be) to that of volcanic rock and ash. Warned ahead of time about altitude sickness, I still refused to buy medicine. Too stubborn, and more so, CHEAP, for my own good. Besides, if I was going to fight the sickness, I would do it as the Incas did, with coca leaves. To release their ancient medicinal powers, chew the leaves into a small ball and lodge the salivated mush into the back of your mouth. Inhaling the leaves medical aroma helps numb the debilitating symptoms of altitude sickness. As for flavor, well, lets just say it would not be on my top 10 list (or hundred for that matter). If youve ever tasted fresh lawn mulch, well, this was worse. However, they do the trick and within minutes of munching the pounding headaches and disoriented feelings lessen. I also learned, while chomping away, that this ancient Incan medicine happens to be the same leaf that produces cocaine. No, I did not use cocaine while climbing a volcano, as the leaves have to be isolated and purified heaps before ever reaching the illegal drug state, but it does make for a rather good story anyways.

Reaching base camp was a feat in itself for many climbers due to the suffocating altitude change. Situated at 4,800 meters, on one of the few rocky ledges Misti offers, base camp demanded quick climatization. While our guides fired up mini-electric stoves, myself, and two other determined amigas attempted to start a fire. Oh, our guides had a good laugh watching the three stooges scrounge around camp for left over crackers boxes, toilet rolls, and dry brush but the criticism was well worth the looks on their faces when our fire burst to life. Between the lack of oxygen and a lighter with barely enough fluid for a cigarette, we won against the odds. Im not sure if our sherpas were more amazed by the fire, or the smores that followed because after trying just one, they all wanted smore (ok, bad joke). Base camp lent itself to one of the most amazing views I have seen in my entire 24 years of existence. A sunset so intense and so moving, that even the Incas themselves would have been left speechless. Sitting just above the cloud line, the sun set the entire sky on fire, creating a floor of color from our feet to the horizon.

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For a moment, I thought I could walk right off the cliff and onto this fiery dace floor. This visual wonder was only the opening act though, as the real magic happened after the sun retired for the evening.

From the occasional breaks in cloud cover, I saw only a glimpse of our formally known atmosphere, that at sea level, but from cloud cover up, I discovered a whole new world. I swear, I could see the atmospheric arch between earth and space. Just below the line, fading blue skies and just above, the grim darkness of space. Never before have I seen so many stars. Removing clouds from the equation made each estrella seem larger and closer then ever before. Heck, I could practically shake the man in the moons hand from where I stood. Shooting stars only added to the evenings grandeur, putting on an immaculate light show for its more then attentive audience. The peace that overwhelmed me in those moments was incredible. The silence is deafening, must have been quoted by someone on a similar climb because I cannot imagine anything quieter. Lacking animal cries, rustling foliage, human conversation, and those darn taxi horns, entombed us in silence. So far away from everything we know and so close to everything we dont know. Didnt sleep a wink that night. Base camp was anything but comfortable. That is, unless lying on frozen rock face is your idea of a posturepedic sleep. I was more then toasty warm in my amazing sleeping bag (thanks again parentals), but not even her synthetic cocoon could protect my ears from the howling wind. Lying there, in an awake mans coma, deafened by the wind and paralyzed by the fear of being hurled off the volcano with every blustery gust. Lets just say, I was more then happy to leave base camp and begin the next phase of the climb (even if it did commence at 1:30 a.m).

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With my trusty head lamp switched on and a wee bit of coca tea in my belly, we were off, trucking up the volcano in nights inky darkness. Each grueling step amplified by the crippling effects of altitude sickness, forced even the most physically fit of climbers to turn back, as they succombed to Mistis pulmonary grasp. IzquiedaCrunchDerechaCrunchLeftCrunch Right.Crunchwere the only thoughts in my mind as I slowly approached her glacial peak. And just when I thought I made it, Misti taunted me with more. I had reached the volcano mouth but still had a grueling 45 minute climb to the highest point of her lip. I thought the wind and cold were bad before, but that was nothing compared to this hellish onslaught. The silence I had known before was no more, consumed by roaring winds. Completely exposed to mother natures fury, each step was no longer taken for distance it was taken for an anchor. An anchor against her final attempts to fling us from her peak. The summit was in sight. Mind over matter! Finally, 8 hours after leaving base camp, I made it. There are few things in life that have ever taken my breath away, this vista topping them all. With Chachani Volcanos frosty peaks looming to the left and Pichu Pichus to the right, culminating with Misits steamy crater directly below, I found myself in an almost euphoric state. It was probably a combination of exhaustion and disarray inflicted by the altitude, but whatever it was, will stay with me forever. Never before have I inhaled such a clean breath. Never before have I experienced such a mental high. Never before have I felt on top of the world.

I would have loved to spend hours, days, even weeks on that climbers high (literally) however, the bitter cold would not allow it. Climbing up was difficult enough, but the downhill proved almost more taxing. Imagine skiing down a 75 degree incline, knee deep in volcanic ash. Now, add falling rocks and loose boulders to the equation, and you have a recipe for disaster. Dodging air born boulders and ash avalanches, we made our way down, fighting the natural
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tendency to lean forward and instead keeping our knees locked and bodies cocked back. What took 13 hours to summit, took less then 4 to get down. Check it off the list: Misti Volcano Completed!

For more of Reggie's crazy adventures, please visit: http://www.backpackerswanted.com

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