Huascaran--the summit eludes me, but a great experience nonetheless.

Nevado Huascaran is the highest mountain in Peru (22,200')

I would encourage you to first view the Alpamayo blog before this one of Huascaran, which will put photos and events in the correct chronological order.  You can find the Alpamayo blog by scrolling down below.  You can click on the pictures to enlarge them if you want a slightly better view.

After coming down from Alpamayo and resting for a day in the small city of Huaraz, Douglas, Victor, Luis, Evert, Maricio, and I packed up our gear and headed out for Huascaran, the highest mountain in Peru at 22,200'. Our goal was to summit the south peak (Huascaran Sur) starting from the trailhead at Musho (about 9,900' in elevation) and establishing a basecamp at 13,800, a morraine camp at about 16,000', and a high camp at 19,300'. I was happy to be with the same set of climbers from Alpamayo and to also have Douglas and Maricio with our group. Douglas, an American living in Peru, is an exceptional person, with many years of special forces military service, extremely fit, and an avid adventurer as evidenced by his passion for para-sailing off mountain tops. Having another English speaker in the group added substantially to the social aspects of our adventure.  Maricio, like Louis and Evert, is a strong young Peruvian mountaineer with an infectious smile, who shouldered substantial loads as we made our way up the mountain. 

Basecamp

Douglas begins the ascent of the rock slabs just above basecamp.

The first day was a trail hike through foliage from a wide variety of botanical families, with our basecamp established at the foot of massive rock slabs and ledges, scarred and smoothed by many years of glacier coverage and movement, but now sans any sign of snow and ice.  There were only a small number of tents at the basecamp, so we had our choice of spots to set up our tents. After a great meal and restful sleep, the followng morning we packed our gear and several days worth of food and set off to establish our next camp at 16,000 feet, about 500 vertical feet above where the glacier began.  After pitching our tents, it began to snow heavily, and we knew the next part of the climb would be much tougher because of the deeper snow.  Still our spirits were high and Douglas and I were excited for what lay ahead. 

The rock slabs above basecamp on the way to establishing our next camp on the glacier.

Rock slabs meet glacier, where we put on our crampons.

Luis and Evert start their ascent on the glacier, avoiding the first of many crevasses.

A brief rest on the ascent

Victor and I moving up

It was too cold to wear my Colorado State University cap, but I wanted it along for the experience.

Luis preparing some food at our camp at 16,000'.

Our camp at 16,000'.  This is not the kind of weather we were hoping for!

After only a little sleep, we packed up camp in the dark in the early morning before dawn, again encountered the usual difficulties in putting on our climbing gear in frigid temperatures, roped up, and took off to establish our high camp at 19,300' on the col between Huascaran Sur and Norte.  The climb involved navigating around crevasses, crossing some crevasses on narrow snow bridges, and jumping a few others.  We also encountered some short 70 degree sections that we found both challenging and fun.  The Garganta (throat) between the two Huascaran peaks is an area of frequent avalanches, so we moved through this section as quickly as one can at this altitude.  I felt quite good during the ascent until the last 200 vertical feet before high camp, when the altitude made another assault on my physical and mental vigor.

Douglas tackles a steep section on the way to high camp.

Can someone take up the slack in the rope in case I fall over backwards?!

Victor takes the lead on a near-vertical section.  

The Garganta, an area of frequent avalanches through which we moved quickly!

Upon arriving in the early afternoon at high camp, surpisingly we found only one other group present on the col.  The weather was initially good, but then snow, wind, and bright sunshine took turns battling for supremacy. I found myself exhausted as we pitched our camp, probably a combination of the altitude and only 1-2 hours of sleep the night before.  I was short of breath just taking off my crampons and unpacking my sleeping pad and bag.  Knowing that we would begin our attempt to summit at midnight, I crawled into my sleeping bag as the sun set about 6:45 that evening, hoping to get at least a few hours of sleep.  I monitored my heart rate and my oxygen saturation with a pulse oximeter, and found them to be within normal limits given the altitude:  resting pulse (84 beats/min compared to 48 beats/min at 5,000' in Fort Collins, and O2 sat at 85% compared to 98% at home).  I also monitored Victor's heart rate and oxygen saturation, and found them to be similar to mine.  I just wished I had as many red blood cells as he likely has given his work as a high altitude guide!!

You can't drive your SUV to this campsite!!

Altitude at high camp.

Douglas and I at high camp. 

Despite my exhaustion, sleep escaped me and I wondered if I would have enough energy to even crawl out of the tent, put on my climbing boots, crampons, harness, etc. at midnight.  Unable to sleep, I read parts of Frances Chen's book, 'Crazy Love' and even watched episodes of the Office and and NCIS on my IPod, all the while dreading having to soon leave the warmth of my sleeping bag (knowing that Huascaran is at a higher altitude and would be colder than Alpamayo, I borrowed a better bag for this part of the trip).  At times like this, I sometimes question why I put myself in these situations of bone chilling cold, exhaustion, and difficulty breathing, with risk of avalanches, falls, and high altitude sickness. I don't believe that my reasons for engaging in these activities include stupidity or an unusually large ego.  I just like to challenge myself mentally, physically, and spiritually, and these sorts of high altitude experiences help me maintain a more wholesome perspective on life at lower altitudes.

After absolutely no sleep, I was up at midnight and in donning all of my necessary clothing, plastic boots, and equipment, I realized that I actually felt quite good under the circumstances and thanked the Lord for some renewed strength.  I roped up with Luis and we started off about 12:30 AM with our headlamps the only source of light as we moved up the snow and ice.  We climbed ever so cautiously along a narrow crest between two gaping crevasses, with their depths unpenetrable by our handlamps.  As we climbed higher, I was thrilled to feel stronger than I had even hoped and believed the summit was attainable, although I knew it would take at least 4-5 more hours of strenuous climbing to reach.  However, after several hours of climbing and postholing in deep snow from the most recent storm, I began to question the safety of our climbing conditions.  We were having a difficult time getting traction with our crampons and I was concerned that our ice axes would provide little security in arresting any falls, as the snow was too deep and powdery to sink them securely into the underlying ice.

After reaching close to 21,000', I decided the conditions were not safe enough to continue.  I am sure this disappointed Victor, but I kept thinking about Ed Viestur's quote from his Himalayan experiences, "Getting to the top is optional, but getting down is mandatory".  I had promised my family that I would make wise decisions and I also did not want to jeopardize Victor's safety if I were to fall. Although it was a difficult choice which I still question, I probably made the correct one in turning back.  By then, Victor had switched ropes to be with me, and we were the last ones to turn back.  It was quite a surreal experience down climbing the steep slopes in heavy snow, belaying each other in almost total darkness, knowing we were the only ones on Huascaran above high camp.  I savored the sense of good fortune in being able to experience this incredible solitude.  However, I also admit to having the occasional intrusive thought that the solitude was synonymous with being totally alone and on our own, with no help available should either Victor or I slip. Conflicting emotions are common in mountaineering--mental toughness demands that positive thoughts take center stage!

Moving upward from high camp at night I made a futile attempt to capture the sights.  The black in the photo is a deep crevasse, not the black sky. 

After returning to high camp about 5:00AM, without any photographic evidence of our attempt due to the darkness, Victor and I managed to sleep for an hour or two.  We ate a quick breakfast of tea and bread rolls, dismantled our camp, and then our whole group began the descent.  We rapelled some and down climbed most of the 6000' to our basecamp, arriving in the late afternoon.  Below are some of the pictures taken on our decent. The basecamp was buzzing with activity and I had some enjoyable conversations with other climbers, including one from Colorado who works at the CU Medical School in Denver with one of my former graduate students, Dr. Stacy Schmidt, who is also an avid Colorado mountaineer. Small world! 

Papa and his four sons back at basecamp.  Evert, Luis (the cocinar), Maricio, and Victor were all half my age, so they started calling me Papa and they become mis cuatro hijos.

The following day, the burros were late getting to basecamp to help haul our gear down to Musho, so after a breakfast of pancakes and honey, we read, talked, played cards, and enjoyed the bright sunshine and beautiful views of the valleys below. 

A second failed summit--first Alpamayo and now Huascaran. I was clearly disappointed to fall short of my goals.  However, in my older years I am quicker to realize that reaching the top of a peak is often beyond my control, and the experience need not be viewed with regret.  I had the opportunity to be on two mountains that are spectacular in their grandeur, hone my climbing skills, test my stamina and endurance, meet many other climbers, experience the genuine comaraderie and friendship of my climbing partners, deal with emotional extremes--elation, joy, laughter, fear, frustration, and intense loneliness.  I also got to experience utter exhaustion, frigid temperatures, loss of appetite, sleepless nights, a 12 pound body weight loss, and the incredible handiwork of God.  The entire experience was what I now call 'miserable fun'!