Travel with Manfred

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Copyright © 2004 by Manfred Pfluegl. All rights reserved.

November 1 - 30, 2004

Ecuador

The Mountains are Calling Us

by

Manfred Pfluegl

Keywords: Quito, Otavalo, Cayambe, Cotacachi, Tulcan, Catalunga, Quilotoa, Ambato, Chimborazo, Chimbo, Cotopaxi, Cayambe, Ilinizas, Iliniza Norte, refuges, huts, refugios, Alpinismo, Andinismo, Alpinism, Andinism, mountaineering, tourist, travel trip report, travel log, travelogue.

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If you are a mountaineer just interested in the facts and not the rambling about my personal experience, read the fact sheet. A Spanish version of this trip report exists as well. Use these links to jump directly to the specific mountain that you are interested in: Chimborazo, Cotopaxi, Cayambe, and Iliniza.

Foreword

2002, 2003, and 2004

November 1, 2004

When the plane descended for landing I looked at the TV screen and followed the altitude of the plane. When the plane reached 6300 meter I looked out the window. It was scary. Everything appeared so small, so far away. All the mountains were tiny, far below us. Our plan was to be at this altitude. It made me feel strange.

After arrival I had to suffer a bit more. I waited 20 minutes nervously to find out whether or not my backpack with all the equipment had made it too. As one of the last pieces it came off the luggage carousel. What relief!

On the first day I wanted to take it easy and to avoid any risk I took the taxi instead of the public bus to the hotel Gran Hotel in the Historic Center of Quito. Arriving at the hotel I went straight to bed.

November 2, 2004

Quito: I don't like it. In comparison, places like Lima or Cuzco are a nicer. Quito is a big city. In 4 hours of sightseeing I saw everything I wanted to see. You know me, cities never attract me much.

Franz arrived this morning. I picked him up at the airport from where we went straight to my hotel to pick up my backpacks and without looking back we left the city. In bus we went from Quito to Otavalo, a journey of about 2.5 hours. As a rule of thumb, 1 hour of bus travel costs about $1 here in Ecuador.

Well, right now we are in Otavalo (2550m). We already did our very first excursion: Loma Pucara: 2790m. A sacred hill of the Otaveleños. The weather is fine, some 25C. It's hot and in the afternoon there was thunder. Otavalo is nice. But if you remember Todos Santos from our vacation in Guatemala, I have to admit that Todos Santos is nicer.

The people are friendly. You notice that whenever you talk to anyone. Less friendly are the dogs. Franz was nearly bitten by one! Can you imagine: First day in Ecuador and already attacked by a street dog. As usual it was a small dog. From now on we always carry a few small rocks in our hands to be ready at any moment to defend ourselves.

My knee is okay.

Tomorrow we will try to climb the volcano Fuya Fuya (4263m). The first 4000m peak of our journey. Thursday or Friday we'll attempt volcano Imbabura (4609m).

Hugs and kisses, Manfred

November 3, 2004

Everything is very beautiful. We paid a taxi ($9) to take us to the lakes Lagunas Mojanda (3750m). From there we started the climb, quite steep in certain parts, maybe even reaching 45 degrees. The volcano is called Fuya Fuya (4263m). After about 2 hours we arrived at the peak. We were surrounded by clouds and it started to rain. For a moment the wind pushes the clouds aside and we see for the first time that there is another peak, maybe another hour of hiking from our peak. We try to climb the second peak, the higher of the two and hence the real peak of Fuya Fuya. But the trail is difficult. I decide to turn around and abandon the idea to reach the real summit. There was a dangerous piece and it made me quite nervous. Climbing back downhill the 5 difficult meters that we already had done made me sweat and it took us some 15 or 20 minutes just for these 5 meters. Our expedition and venture is 4 weeks. It makes little sense to risk too much on the very first mountain. Today is just a warm up day; it is not worth taking any chances here.

The way back to Otavalo is 17 km and it poured. The plastic poncho of yours I was wearing which also covers the backpack was the perfect match for the heavy rain. We hitchhiked to escape some of the rain. The first vehicle showed up after some 90 minutes. Talking to the local driver I learned that Fuya Fuya is Quechua and means "Mountain Mountain" because there is one mountain behind the other. He also explained to us that there is a different, easier trail to the top. Well, we learned this a little bit too late. But it doesn't matter. No summit in the pocket, but still happy. For the next time we know which route to take.

Now at 5 p.m. we leave Otavalo. We want to get to Esperanza but we are not sure if we will make it. We'll have to change the bus and nobody knows if there is a connection after 5:30 p.m. Anyway, we'll try. If we are lucky we'll make it till Esperanza tonight and tomorrow we can try another peak of 3800m. On Friday (if all works out) we'll attempt the bigger peak of 4600m.

About our health: Everything's okay. Of course also everything hurts a bit. One of my legs is swollen at the upper part of the boot. On the downhill part my knee also hurt, but it is not serious. All is ok.

Hugs, Manfred and Franz

November 4, 2004

As there is nothing, there is no internet access either. What the village does offer however is access to two mountains: Loma Cubilche (3836m) and Imbabura (4609m).

Loma Cubilche, 3836m, is beautiful and we even found it! You know how that is with directions. The directions are less than exact here. Usually we always get the same answer: "Oh, that is easy to find. Just walk always straight." Despite the vague description and the lack of a map we did find the peak and to our surprise there was a lake right at the peak. And cows too! Yes, cows. We were really happy to have found the mountain. In total we estimated that we hiked 25 km or more and it was a full day trip (7.5 hours for the round-trip).

Hugs, Manfred and Franz

November 5, 2004

After 5h 40min we get to a peak. There are two pieces of iron at the peak that might have one day been a cross or something similar. But I am afraid that it is not the real peak. The clouds have long ago moved back in. And we are sitting in the clouds and start eating. Once again, the wind pushes the clouds aside just for a few minutes. Once again we see that this is not the final peak.

Uff, so far away, looks like the highest point is still another 2 to 3 hours away. It is impossible to get there for us. The trail is not difficult. Inma and I have done things like this several times before. It's not difficult, but it is dangerous. Many vertical walls. In the last 90 minutes we already climbed using our hand and feet. We decide to turn around. Once again we reached a peak, but not the peak, not the summit. I hope this is not becoming a habit. We made it to 4179m. That's enough. I don't want to risk more. Another key reason is that there is insufficient time. We would not make it to the summit and back to the village at daytime. On our way down the night would set in. Even without getting to the summit of Imbabura it took us 11 hours round trip.

With a night bus we leave Esperanza, switch buses in Ibarra and head north to Tulcán.

Hugs, Manfred and Franz

November 6, 2004

Today is our first day of relaxation. It is also the first day that we are not wearing our heavy boots. We are lucky. Today is the big "fiesta," the biggest festival day of the Carchi province of the whole year. And we are present to participate and observe. 6 hours of parade. Today Tulcan is like Sambadrom, but a size smaller. Very nice. Our eyes enjoy the show and our ears the rhythmic beat.

I also have to fight against the elements. I'd like to write this email, but 4 hours of work are necessary. First I need to find an internet café or similar. For one hour I walk back and forth as people send me here and there with ideas where I might find internet access. One Internet café is moving, another didn't want my money claiming they have a virus, and when I finally find a place it is about to close for lunch break. I come back in an hour, sit down, type for an hour and when I click "Send" the server of the ISP in Quito had gone down. Two hours later I am still there talking to the boss to see if anything can be done. Another hour later a friend of the business owner comes by and he let's me try his personal dial-in account and surprisingly it even works. Finally - after all these hours - I can send my email.

About our health: All okay. My foot is still swollen from the boot, but it's no bothersome. I am satisfied with my knee. I used it and abused it quiet a bit (10 hours of walking in a single day, 1700m downhill without break) and the knee does not cause me any major pain.

Our daily schedule: There is light from 6 a.m. till 6:15 p.m., about 12 hours of daytime. We get up around 6 or 7 a.m. At 6 p.m. we have dinner and at 8 or 9 p.m. we go to bed. A simple life style. This schedule is adapted to the local habits. Life on the street starts early and ends early. After sunset only few people are on the street and restaurants and street vendors stop selling their dinner early. By 8 p.m. it is often difficult to find something warm to eat, unless you want to go to an upscale restaurant.

About the food: Every day we are served eggs for breakfast and frequently chicken for dinner. The coffee is like I like it. They serve a big jug of hot milk and a small jar of instant coffee powder. So I can mix myself a weak coffee with lots of milk. It is cold at night but unlike what we have seen in Peru, here the people are not used to sell hot tea on the streets. We have no stomach or digestive problems even though we eat frequently on the street and in the simple, small, hole-in-the-wall-type "restaurants" frequented by the locals. Today's set meal was $1: soup, rice, potatoes, tomato and avocado. Surprisingly the menu was without egg. (They have the tendency to put eggs with everything.)

Talking about eggs: Today we strolled around. I saw a noteworthy number, maybe 10, of egg stores. In front of one of these stores I stop and start thinking. How many eggs are here in this store? I start counting: 36 eggs in each cardboard tray, some 20 trays per stack, some 40 stacks in the store. I talk to the store owner. He tells me: 90,000 eggs. 90 thousand! And that in only one store. All this in a town that has only 50,000 inhabitants. Next question: Who is going to eat all of these eggs? How many eggs is that per inhabitant?

Hugs, Manfred and Franz

November 7, 2004

The people are very friendly. They invite us to join their picnic and tell us their life's stories. We spend half the day with the same people. First 3 hours in the slightly stinking waters and then two families took us into the jungle. We see a condor circling in the sky. What a rare sight. It has its nest in the cliffs close to the spa. The song "El condor pasa" goes through our head. As we are in the jungle the families tell us that this is territory of the Columbian guerilla. But it can't be that dangerous. We are here with these two families and their family members that accompany us are between 4 and 60 years. We are working our way through the underbrush, all the time on the Ecuadorian side of the border. Only on one occasion I cross the creek and set foot on Columbian land. Only to be able to say "been there".

In the afternoon we are on the move again. 5 hours in bus bring us from the border (Aguas Hediondas) to Cotacachi.

Hugs, Manfred and Franz

November 8, 2004

Today we are in Cotacachi, a village. I realize that there are hardly any tourists. I don't mean here in Cotacachi, I mean here in Ecuador. Except for Otavalo (where there are many), but outside Otavalo we have seen only some 10 tourist in the whole week. It is incredible. It looks like we are the only tourists in the country.

It is very calm in the village. We are used to that already. At 6 p.m. we want to have dinner but it is difficult to find a place that is still open. I don't mind, at the contrary I like that time schedule. This way we too go to bed at 8 p.m. At 5:30 a.m. I wake up and only because of my brother who sleeps like a trunk we don't get up at that time.

In private transport we went to Lagunas de los Dioses or in Quechua Laguna Cuicocha. Laguna Cuicocha is a lake at 3068m that formed inside the crater of a volcano due to rainfall. We hiked around the lake, following the rim of the volcano. It takes around 4 hours for the complete loop. The peak of the Cuicocha volcano is at 3377m. To return to the village (about 12km) we hitchhiked again. A truck full of empty beer bottles and gas containers stopped for us. As the wind blows into our face and messes up our hair the truck brings us to the village of Quiroga. From there it's walking distance (a few km) back to Cotacachi.

Franz can't pass by any pastry shop or bakery without entering and buying sweets. He is like me: a sweet tooth. Every day he tries new cookies, new pastry, strawberries, etc. My favorites are sweet bread and bananas which I wash down with milk.

About the modes of transport: By now I have experienced most types of transport already.

• The "Trolley" (El trole) in Quito: This is a network of two lines of electric buses which have their own lanes. Hence they are fast (if they don't have to wait in front of a red light). This is the most advanced transport in Quito. It's like the subway in NYC or London.
• The Luxury Buses: E.g. the Tulcán-Quito Express: The seats can be inclined. That sounds very good, but the reality is quite the opposite. I had both backpacks on top of my legs and the guy in front of me added some more weight by pushing his seat backwards. In the luxury buses the windows have curtains, etc.
• Normal Intercity-Buses: E.g. Quito-Otavalo: In those buses the age is obvious wherever you look. The seats don't incline anymore, the windows don't open or close anymore, the windows are so dirty that it is hard to see the countryside outside, the TV or video in the front repeats some action movie non-stop, etc.
• Shabby Buses: E.g. Ibarra-Cotacachi: The seat cushion has holes so big you can see the bus floor, everything vibrates; better hold on to your tooth fillings, I just worry about my knee with all these strong vibrations. Street vendors get on and off. They sell about everything from food, drinks, books, music CDs, medicine for the liver, etc. At times there are five or more street vendors on board. Franz buys the food and I became proud owner of a music CD. The artists presented a few songs live on the bus playing the flute and the guitar standing in the aisle. Then they handed out their CD. $2 is a bargain.
• Pick-up Truck: There are typically a few stickers or statues of god hanging from the rearview mirror. Everything is very personalized. A carpet on the dashboard is common. Maybe a special racing steering wheel. The upper and lower third of the windshield is covered with a covered with black tape to make sure it doesn't get to hot inside the car. I being tall in comparison to a normal average Ecuadorian can't see anything in such a pick-up as the black tape of the windshield is at the height of my eyes.
• Truck: It guarantees a ride out in the open, in the "fresh" air and you certainly need both hands to hold on to not lose your balance.
• Horse: That is also a possible means of transport, especially in the countryside or in small villages. So far, I haven't tried that.
• On foot: In this type of transport we already have a lot of experience. The streets made by the indigenous (supposedly for $1 per meter) are terrible for walking These indigenous streets are made of round cobble stones and as you walk nothing is ever flat and your boot turns to the left, to the right continuously. It is really uncomfortable to walk on these country roads. Furthermore, we always walk with four small rocks in our hands. This is our anti-canine weapon. Our defense against dogs that come out of nowhere and turn aggressive. One has to be ready at all time. My experience in Peru where I was bitten by a dog was a lesson I will never forget.

About our health: All okay.

• Altitude sickness: For the time being we don't have any signs of problems. On Wednesday I had a few hours that I noticed the altitude but after a few hours it went away again.
• My knee: Good, no noteworthy problem.
• Stomach: Montezuma's revenge (diarrhea) has not hit us. We are 100% fine.

Hugs to all, Manfred and Franz

November 9, 2004

We had some 5 hours of time available before we had to leave for Quito to meet up with Fernando who should arrive today from Spain. We wanted to use these 5 hours for good exercise and decided to walk towards the volcano Cotocachi (4939m). I specifically say "towards" because obviously in 5 hours one cannot do this peak and secondly even if we had more time we would not attempt it because close to the summit is a very difficult piece of some 30 meters that requires serious climbing skills.

Our self-set goal for today is to ascend 2.5 hours as fast as we can. Independent of where we are we would turn around. You cannot imagine how exhausted I was after this 2 and half hour uphill "race". We both were "dead". I was sweating so profusely that I had to take my clothes off. Shirt, T-shirt, pants, even the underwear. It was soaking wet, like coming out of the washing machine. It was more comfortable to stand around in the cold wind half naked than in the completely wet clothing. Luckily I had a change of clothing in the backpack.

The downhill part was equally interesting. All the clothing got soaking wet once again. This time not through sweat but through a torrential rain. A thunderstorm with the center some 1.5km from us poured down on us relentlessly for two hours. The lightning and the thunder were so strong that they were frightening. We counted from 21 to 24 between the lightening and the bangs of the thunder. Under those conditions I just wanted to get off the mountain. The trail was converted into a mud bath and we were sliding around. It is surprising that we never slipped. Nothing stayed dry on me. And what is worse, here in Ecuador - I don't know why - nothing dries. You hang things out in the hotel room and the next morning the clothing is equally humid. We got used to this unfortunate fact and wear the wet clothing on the body to dry it. There is no other way.

In the afternoon, in the midst of another storm we catch the bus to go to Quito to meet up with Fernando. What happens? The rain has made the road between Cotacachi and Otavalo impassible. 50cm of rain water on the road and the vehicles can't continue. Times passes by and we keep waiting. At last we return back to Cotacachi and take a different route. Eventually with another small problem in the middle of the journey we make it to Quito. We arrive late. Believing in Murphy's Law I already had calculated an hour of delay into our schedule. Despite that extra hour as buffer we arrived late for our planned encounter at the arranged hotel. Fernando is a smart guy and as he could not find us at the hotel he came to the bus station to find and greet us there. What a surprise!

Hugs, Manfred, Franz and Fernando

November 10, 2004

Like every day it is raining and we arrive at the snow line, at least we can see snow from the bus. Fernando who has all the electronic gadgets has an altimeter and we follow the numbers: 3000m, 3500m, 4000m, topping out at 4100m. On the roadside are crosses from the past accidents. I count some twelve. All in white and very simple, some with dry, wilted flowers. It's cold, of course. The country side changes. It is a lot more impressive here than in the north. This is a real Andes landscape. I like it. It is brown, sharp valleys cut through the hills. There is no flat area anywhere. Everything is wet, cold and you get the feeling that both men and nature are struggling for survival. The people are like the landscape: poor. But there are potato fields up to 4000m. Cows too are living and feeding at 4000m. Life must be hard here, there is no flat area and planting and harvesting potatoes at 4000m on the steep hills must be hard work.

A few more words on the bus: On top of the windshield there are two Holy Mary statues. Behind them are two red small light bulbs. Every time the bus brakes the red lights light up the Holy Mary statues. Very appropriate. We are praying too that the brakes don't fail. Finally we reach the village of Quilotoa (ca. 3850m). It is in the rain clouds and the first impression is a bit shrouded in mysticism.

The first thing we do is hike from the village (ca. 3850m) down to the bottom of the crater of the volcano. The crater bottom is filled with rain water that forms a lake. All carry the same name: Village Quilotoa (ca. 3850m), Lake Quilotoa = Laguna Quilotoa (ca. 3580m) and Volcano Quilotoa (ca. 4010m). On the lake shore is a very simple hotel (without guests at this time of the year that is off-season) and a paddle boat is ready for a quick spin on the lake. It takes us 30 minutes down to the lake and 1 hour to get back up to the rim where the village is. We get back just at sunset.

Inma, still remember our Peru vacation? Quilotoa is a village like the on the Titicaca island. Inma, you still remember the cold in Puno? You remember our night on the island Isla Amantaní? Here it is about the same. What are the similarities? There is no electricity (not today). But they place three candles on the dining table. That is sufficient and creates a romantic atmosphere. Every time I breathe in the cold enters deep into my body. I am afraid of catching a cold. I cannot afford that. Trying to climb high mountains and having a cold don't go well with each other. But there is little I can do about it. As always, at 6 p.m. it gets dark. I spot two shooting stars on the night sky. The sky is precious, as precious as it is cold.

The kids kindle a fire in the shared dining room. The wood oven is strategically placed in the center of the room. I hate being in the dining room even though it is the only place with fire and hence the only place with a little bit of warmth. Why? Because the smoke from the fire is so bad that my eyes hurt and my throat protests against the smoke as well. Of course the rest of the tourists are less sensitive or delicate. They and the indigenous locals are not bothered by the smoke. I am the only one who needs to get out every 15 minutes to get some fresh air. I can't stand it.

At least the soup is hot. Hot soup, my favorite. With wheat and potatoes. Fernando and Franz want fire in our room. I already suspected that this could possible end up a disaster. And I was right. The kid really tried hard to start a fire in our room, but the wood simply did not want to burn. The only things that actually burn (only for brief minutes of course) are the cardboard boxes. So, the result was a lot of smoke but no warmth. The smoke was really terrible in our room. Franz told me the next day that he was afraid to die of carbon monoxide poisoning. I too suffered due to the smoke.

Hugs, Manfred, Fernando and Franz

November 11, 2004

We have to celebrate. This is the first day in Ecuador on which it is not raining. And back at the hotel there is another reason to celebrate. Electricity has returned (which was gone due to a power outage due to rain). Franz finally can recharge his camera.

For dinner we eat hamster, a local dish. We watch as the cook kills the live animals. She takes them with the head between both hands and crushes their skull. 90 minutes later we have a plate of rice, potatoes and a piece of dead hamster on our plate. At least we know it is fresh.

We learned something from last night. Tonight we sleep without a fire and without attempting to make a fire. Better the cold than the smoke. With each respiration in my sleeping bag the cold enters my body. At 4000m I can note the scarcity of the oxygen and feel that my breathing is heavier. Fernando is well. He seems to be the one adapting best to the altitude from all of us three. He has no problems with the altitude even though it is only his second day. I might have more effects due to the altitude but I still have a big advantage: I have a lot more desire to reach our big summit.

Hugs, Manfred, Franz and Fernando

November 12, 2004

At midday we return by bus to Latacunga. Bad news reaches us. Really bad news. There is a strike of the government employees. Who guards the entrances of the national parks where our famous volcanoes are? Government employees. And now they are on strike. We are not sure but from what we hear they are on strike for two weeks already and nobody knows when the strike might end. In short, we cannot climb the 3 volcanoes (Cayambe, Cotopaxi, Chimborazo) what is what we came here for! Can you believe it! So much planning, so much preparation and now we can't get into the national parks due to a strike. I am pissed. I can't believe it, but it is true. Shit!

With money everything can be fixed. This is South America after all. The climbing agencies say that with a bribe (I have no idea how much) they - as an agency - can enter on certain roads, avoiding the main road and the main entrance. Of course this service of the agency costs some $400 per person for the 3 volcanoes. I am very skeptical on whether or not the agencies really can enter. Furthermore it would change quite a bit as we would have to follow their time line. They mentioned that in a week's time they might do a trip approaching the Cotopaxi from the south. But whenever they say something there is always a "maybe" and a "but". It is impossible to get reliable information.

We came up with the plan to ask for a special permit from the Ministry of Environment, responsible for the national parks. We would have told them that we are volcanologists from the University of Austria and that we are working on an environmental project of high importance that has been many months in the planning and that we therefore must enter the Cotopaxi, Chimborazo and Cayambe parks. This plan failed too. It is Friday afternoon and until Monday the ministry is closed.

I have no idea what will happen. Do we have to abandon? No, I am not going to give up that easily. To hell with all these strikers and the misinforming agencies. Most likely tomorrow we will try to enter the national park around the Ilinizas and try to get to the refuge. Let's see if it is possible. Let's see if someone will prevent us from entering. Let's see if we have to give someone money under the table. Let's see if the refuge is open. It's better to try something then to sit around and wait for the strike to end. It might be shorter to wait for a miracle.

The saga will continue ...

Hugs, Manfred, Fernando and Franz

November 13, 2004

The refuge at 4600m is a small house with an open kitchen and eating area as well as some 30 mattresses. There are 4 beds on top of each other. If the one on top falls out of his bed a free fall of some 5-6 meters await him. Luckily I get to the refuge early and get an early pick on the mattress. I select one on the second level of the tower of beds.

I expected it to be freezing cold at night. But with a thermo shirt and thermo long johns, a fleece and my normal pants on top, it is suddenly comfortable in the sleeping bag. It was warm but I still had a terrible night. Of the 10 hours in bed, I sleep only 3. The first hours after going to bed I needed to breathe extra deep to get my lungs the needed oxygen. I thought that if I fall asleep I would breathe only normally and I would suffocate. A stupid thought, I know, but subconsciously it kept me awake and breathing consciously and deeply. I was forced to fill my lungs to the last cubic centimeter. Starting at midnight I had a light headache. "This is only 4600m. How am I going to reach the summit tomorrow if I am already having breathing problems lying motionlessly in bed?" These were my serious thoughts.

November 14, 2004

Today is another day without rain. The third in total. The views from Iliniza Norte are marvelous. Up to now we have not seen such a sight. We are so lucky with the weather. We see all the famous mountains of the whole country. Cayambe in the north (at 5 hours in bus), Chimborazo in the south (at 4h in bus). Nearby are Cotopaxi and a few more snow-capped peaks. The horizon is full of volcanoes. Impressive! We don't know it but this should be the best views we should get from any mountain top.

We are higher than Mont Blanc. The sun is shining. Our eyes are scanning the horizon to absorb the views. It is a satisfying moment.

The hike down is uneventful. We had left the refuge at 6:30 a.m. and were back at the refuge at 11 a.m. From there we continued down to the parking lot. With luck we hook up with other Austrians and their transport. They take us to Machachi, an ugly village. It is a strange place with only two rather unfriendly hotels. I am disappointed, but at least we are close to the refuge of Cotopaxi which is at only 2 hours in pickup truck from Machachi. The only positive thing to mention about Machachi is its Sunday market. It is a gigantic fruit and vegetable market that draws big crowds throughout the day. At night the vendors start burning their wooden trays and boxes to make some light while selling the last of their wares. Kids jump over the fires and warm up close to them. I felt something special about this market.

Hugs from Ecuador, Manfred, Franz and Fernando

November 15, 2004

As we drove up to the refuge we got a good look at Cotopaxi. One of the reasons why it is so well known is that it is possibly the snow capped mountain with most cloud-free days per year in all of Ecuador. So it is not rare to enjoy the views that we had in front of us now. Here it stood in all its majesty. Proud and sparkling in the sunshine. One could even see the trail from down here and how it work its way in a counter-clockwise semi-circular to the top. From down here, far away it looked easy. As I saw it this way in front of me I was sure we could make it.

Cotopaxi in Quechua means "heaven's neck" or "moon's neck". I like "heaven's neck" as in "the heaven is resting on Cotopaxi". In local legends Rumiñahui, the mountain to the north of Cotopaxi, is the wife of Cotopaxi. Cotopaxi asks his wife Rumiñahui to lower herself a bit so that he the big Cotopaxi can see the town of Machachi. Rumiñahui refuses the request stating "No, Machachi is my town and I will protect it". And in real life Rumiñahui actually protects Machachi from the volcanic eruptions of Cotopaxi.

From the parking lot we reached the hut in 40 minutes walking. This is not some hut, this is the most popular and most used refuge of all of Ecuador: Refugio José Rivas, 4800m. The owners of the refuge are monks. The late José Rivas after whom the refuge is named was a monk. In this refuge there is everything available: 3 kitchens, running water, Coke, Gatorade, Snicker bars, post cards, even a public telephone. But the phone is not useful as it only takes cards and no cards are for sale at the refuge.

For us it is a day of preparation. We pack the backpack. We try our knots on the rope. We repeat the key safety rules. We agree on the key words to communicate. They are: danger, seguro, cuidado, stop, and adelante. This way we can all communicate even though we speak different mother tongues. Danger --> everyone on the ground on top of the ice axe; Seguro --> everybody in safe position; Cuidado --> watch out, special attention; Stop --> stop; Adelante --> move on again. Good Spanglish combination of words.

In the late afternoon hours it starts to snow during an hour. At that moment Franz was on an exploratory trip to check out the entrance into the glacier and to memorize the initial part of the trail to make sure we will not get lost on our ascent. The refuge is now full of people, maybe around 60 to 70 people. A few of the people we already know from Ilinizas.

I also learn new things. I learn that preparing 6 liters of water takes a lot of time. First you have to boil it. That takes a lot of time, and then you have to cool it down again before you can pour it into the plastic bottles. It took me hours (not minutes) to perform this chore. I spent a lot of time in the kitchen, bridging the time chatting with the professional cooks of the mountain operators and agencies. The see me cook and then boil water. Finally they ask me how many clients I bring to the mountain and from which agency I am. It made me laugh. I thought it was funny.

When all the water for tomorrow's ascent was prepared at 8 p.m. I went to bed. I couldn't sleep, I was too nervous and at 11 p.m. it was already time to get up again.

Hugs, Manfred, Fernando and Franz

November 16, 2004

After Iliniza Norte my knee started to hurt. I thought that the pain would go away after a night. But this time the pain did not diminish. Instead it got worse during daytime. Bad news, but I can live with the pain. I'll do what the doctor permitted; I'll endure the pain and keep moving.

We have seen the route during the day and it looked easy. I continue to be optimistic. After some 40 minutes we reach the glacier. Here we put on the full equipment (rope, crampons, ice axe). We walk slowly. There are many people on the mountain. We can see a dozen little dots of light far ahead of us and far above us. Occasionally we pass someone or we are passed by someone. As we walk slowly I use only my right leg on half of the mountain. I step up with the right leg and then pull the leg to its side. This way I avoid putting strain on my left knee. A bit unconventional, but at the speed we walk this is no problem.

By accident I discover something new (at least new to me). Maybe I should patent it. It is a great invention. What I discovered (and never read in any mountaineering book) is that walking backwards can avoid frozen toes. It's no joke. I am wearing the most expensive and warmest socks available on the market. The top-of-the-line model from Polartek. Still, after about 3 hours I have cold toes, and that is quite dangerous. With 3 or 4 more hours ahead of us, something must be done about it. Walking backwards was the solution. It put pressure on different part of the sole of the foot and changed the blood circulation. Hence the toes were less in contact with the cold shoe and got more warm blood pumped through it. The result is that with time the cold toes improved or at least did not worsen.

We are moving forward well. I am not worried about anything (well, a bit about my toes). It is a splendid night. One could not wish for a better one. There is no cloud in sight. The sky is completely clear. Thousands of stars sparkle above us. It is perfect temperature, cold but not too cold. The hour pass by as we step-by-step move forward and upwards. It is getting light. It must be somewhere around 5:30 a.m. At 6 a.m. the sun comes out. What a marvelous day. We enjoy great views of our surroundings and of the ice formations ahead and beside us. We continue at a slow but good pace. We are at around 5750m. We only have another 150m (of altitude) ahead of us. I was thinking that in an hour we will be standing at the summit. But one should not think. Suddenly at 6:30 a.m., without advanced signs, Fernando has a low, a collapse of his physical and mental state. He is simply completely exhausted, his energy reserves at zero. He can't hold a water bottle anymore. We feed him hot water and put pure glucose tablets in his mouth. But it is too late. We don't know what it is, but in such cases one always has to suspect it is altitude sickness even if there are few signs of it. It doesn't really matter what it is. He is so exhausted that I have to suspect that even his brain is not working well. We suspect he can't control well his thoughts. Certainly he has lost all optimism. There are no options. The only choice is to shorten the rope to control him better, to free him of his backpack and to walk back to the refuge as fast as possible. We hurried and Fernando walked quite well on his own feet. In two hours we dashed back to the refuge and Fernando goes instantly to sleep. Unpleasant as it is we have to wake him in an hour's time because our pre- booked transport arrived and is waiting for us.

The original plan was to go directly to Chimborazo. We discuss the plan again and decide that Fernando goes to a hotel to sleep for a day and recuperate and Franz and I try our luck at Chimborazo. $75 carries us in a 5-hour drive from the Cotopaxi refuge to the Chimborazo refuge with a stop-over in the city of Ambato where Fernando checked into a hotel with a comfortable bed.

On Chimbo are 2 refuges; the lower one (4820m) is right next to the parking lot. Not having slept for 36 hours and not having eaten anything since the attempt on Cotopaxi (there was no time); I too wanted to do only one thing: sleep. At 6 p.m. shortly after arriving at the Chimborazo parking lot we went to bed in the lower refuge.

Going to bed and sleeping are unfortunately two different things. Sleeping isn't easy. Again I have breathing "problems". I have to do my breathing exercises: focusing during 2 hours on inhaling deeply - with the sensation that if you miss a breath you will suffocate. I don't understand it. I come from the Cotopaxi refuge at 4800m, I have been at 5750m in the morning without noticing anything, and now at "only" 4820m I have problems and am impacted by the altitude. It doesn't make sense. My resting pulse in bed is 90! If I turn in bed it feels like hard work and my pulse goes up! This thin air is driving my crazy. All sorts of strange thoughts enter my brain and like a pinball they bounce up and down my skull. The thoughts that invade me are strange to say the least. Perverse, negative, pessimistic and outrageous are other words that would fit the bill. I try hard to ban these thoughts, to get them out of my head. But I am not successful. They are confusing, short, without relationship to the thought before or after. I think this is what it must feel like if you are on a bad trip of drugs. I just want this to stop. A nightmare.

Good night, Manfred, Fernando and Franz

November 17, 2004

It is cold in the refuge. Maybe 5 degrees Celsius. Note that this is 5C inside the refuge. Franz has a new sleeping bag rated for -15C and still he is freezing. That makes you wonder how they rate the sleeping bags. I for my part wear everything (thermo shirt, thermo long johns, pants, shirt, fleece, etc.) inside my sleeping bag.

After the breakfast Franz and I discuss our strategy for the Chimborazo. Following the ideas of the famous mountaineer Reinhold Messner we decide on a minimalistic approach. We decide to climb solo, without rope, with the minimum of equipment and a light backpack. We prepare the material accordingly and ascend to the second refuge (5000m). There I play the role of cook and we eat a delicious soup with pieces of Austrian sausage for lunch. Having filled our stomachs the watch has advanced to 12:30 p.m. It's time to go to bed. In 10 hours the most important day of our vacation will begin: the ascent of the Chimborazo, 6310m, highest mountain in Ecuador, our first 6000m peak.

I am lying in bed: Nervousness, anxiety, fear enter into my head. Adrenalin flows through my veins. I don't feel cool; quite the opposite strangely I am hot. I assume it is due to the adrenalin. I am worried. I think that I will be lacking the adrenalin used now later on the mountain. I think about my wife and baby. Finally I fall asleep. In only a few hours the adventure will begin.

Manfredito

November 18, 2004

We follow the glacier. We approach a steep incline. This ice wall turns steeper and steeper as we climb it. We scan the area ahead with our headlights to see if we can find the place where the wall terminates. We cannot find, as far as our headlights can shine the ice wall continues. By now the wall has reached a steepness of about 60 degrees and still no end in sight. We had teeth of our crampons jammed into the mountain and hands and body as close to the ice as possible. When the ascent turned even steeper it became clear to us. This cannot be the trail. It is not likely that commercial agencies would climb such a steep and risky wall. A mental disappointment. Again we search the area for an exit way. It is still not possible to clearly see what's ahead of us. We are not sure but it appears that the wall ends with an overhanging snow cornice. If it is true what we think we can see then this wall is impossible to climb. We can't go ahead anymore. I move towards the left where the crest is lower. My first estimate is that I can reach the crest to my left in only 40 meters. I am acting like Spiderman. I try to get my body as close to the ice wall as possible. My life depends on my ice axe. Three or four times the bridle ice breaks under my crampons and one of my feet slips. Scary moments. I am afraid. In these moments the only thing that holds me on the mountain is the ice axe. Knowing this I hammer the ice axe into the ice as hard and as much as I can. I don't realize it but I hammer so hard against the ice that my knuckles start bleeding slightly inside the gloves. I only realize this half a day later back at the refuge. Also, on two occasions a junk of ice loosens from the spot where I am trying to place the ice axe. These 30-40 cm pieces of ice slid towards me and hit against my feet, adding to the danger. Getting the ice axe out of the ice and placing it well and deep into the ice 80 cm to the left took seconds, sometime 30 seconds as I had to swing the ice axe several times to place it firmly. During these seconds I was all exposed. Should the ice under my crampons crumble in these seconds I would find myself hurt 100 or 200 meter below on the mountain. I was very scared. I also scared my brother when I yelled once in his direction that I am slipping. I somehow forgot or blocked this moment out of my mind. My brother told me two days later in the safety of the hotel that my complete body slipped once one meter. You can imagine 40 meters, divided into movements of 80 cm, that means 50 times searching for the perfect hold of the ice axe, 50 times trying to find a safe place to put the front teeth of the crampons. It was so draining. It cost me an awful lot of energy. I was shaking of fear and because I was getting weak towards the end of that stretch. My head light was getting dimmer, running out of battery. I was so happy to reach the end of this stretch. Once there I realized that I had not reached the crest. From here it was another 200 meters or more to the official trail. I could not go on. I was worn out physically and mentally. I needed to rest and I needed to change the batteries in my head light. Luckily I found a spot that was less inclined where I could knee down against the mountain resting my arms and take a 5 minute rest. I could see little points of light over and slightly below me. This is how I knew I was close to the official trail. After the rest I continued working my way across horizontally and the terrain was easier. I just took me minutes and in no time I was standing on the "easy" official trail. I had recuperated my optimism again and with it my physical well-being. It was now 2 a.m.

At 3 a.m. all teams of the mountain met at the same place. There were team 1 (4 Germans with 2 guides), team 2 (1 client with 1 guide) and us. It is snowing, already for more than an hour. The guides say that the peak cannot be reached in case of snowfall and they decide to abort the attempt on the summit. All groups turn around and descend more or less jointly. At 5:30 a.m. even before sunrise we reach the upper hut. With the complete clothing, wet from the four hours of snowing, I step into the sleeping bag. Only over-pants and boots I take off. The sleeping bag cannot warm me. The wet clothing sticks to my body and makes me so cold and uncomfortable that I can't stand it anymore. At 7:30 a.m. I get up and start drying my clothing the "Ecuadorian" way. Nothing ever dries in these refuges. There is no heater, no open fire, and no oven. Anything wet stays wet here forever. And the room temperatures? Well, down to 5C during the night.

I put a skillet on the gas fire. In the skillet I don't put a trout, no I put my soaked gloves. Steam is rising from the skillet as proof that some water is evaporating. I am standing in the kitchen for 2 full hours "frying" my gloves until they are somewhat dry. Luckily the whole refuge is empty. We are the only ones so nobody needs the kitchen or is bothering me. Then I repeat the process with my wet T-shirt. Also here the steam rises. The T-shirt turns slightly brown, but better a brown dry T-shirt than a white wet T-shirt. Hanging from the ceiling I dry my jacket, which takes me 4 hours. From 8 a.m. till 4 p.m. I am in the kitchen drying my clothes. I have time.

A day goes by and another night starts. And with the new night a new change on the highest mountain of Ecuador.

Manfred and Franz

November 19, 2004

There are more teams on the mountain today. There is a French guy that we know well already from other huts. If I trust anyone, it is him and his guide. The French guy is very experienced and good. The second team is a group of four Germans with four guides. Team 3 is made up of two Czechs with one guide, and Team 4 is formed by two Austrians that have achieved "fame" because a few days ago they had ascended Cotopaxi in only 3.5 hours, something that normal mortals need 7 to 8 hours.

We change our strategy. Yesterday we had started first; today we started on purpose second last. Behind us were only the two famous Austrians. The night sky was clear; a good omen. At the entry into the glacier we meet up with the Germans and their multitude of guides. We overtake them. We are faster than yesterday. We reach the place where we had turned around yesterday one hour earlier.

As we leave the hut I do not feel so well. I feel physically weak. I have a light head and once again I had slept very little during the night. I tell my brother that he has to make the leader. I follow behind him and try to save my energy. In the second hour of the ascent I feel better and in the third hour of the climb my energy level is finally back to where it should be.

At 3 or 4 a.m. we are in a glacier, large and steep. This is the magic hour. In retrospect this was for me the most beautiful hour on Chimborazo. At this moment we were alone. The two other Austrians had overtaken us and were well ahead of us, out of our sight, "running" towards the summit. All other teams were well below us, barely visible as tiny points of light blinking now and then. For all practical purposes we, Franz and I, were alone. Free to move on this steep incline. No rope to tie us to anything. Above us was the sky, dark and filled with stars. Here we are, Franz and I, two tiny dots of light in this gigantic glacier at some 40 to 45 degrees. It is not too cold. In the distance we see the lights of a town far away and far below. It is beautiful. There is no moon, and hence we cannot see what is to the left or to the right of the glacier. All we see is the virgin snow and ice. It is the most moving and pleasurable moment of the day. This (and other reasons) is why we come up here.

Franz and I make a good team. Now I walk ahead and make the leader. We have a whistle- code to communicate dangerous spots or similar. Blowing the whistle works well. It can be heard at a distance and it saves energy.

The climb has no end. Each time we reach a crest after some 45 minutes of steep ascent we just find another glacier that was hidden behind the crest. The day starts somewhere between 5:30 and 6 a.m. Now the going gets tough. This is no longer like on a 5,000m mountain. I think we are at 6,000m now (but I have no way of knowing for sure as I have no GPS or altimeter). This is like playing in a different league. Now it is different. It is less steep, maybe a 30-degree trail in a 45-degree glacier. Franz and I start to make "races". The race consists of advancing some 10 meters and then resting until the breathing rate is back to normal. In short, we walk 10 meters in 15 seconds and then rest 3 minutes until we breathe normal.

Since 2 a.m. we have cold toes. We move our toes constantly. Every step we take we make toe movements. Every second we rest we move our toes within the boots. We also use my "patent" of walking backwards to get the toes warm, or at least to prevent them from getting any colder. For 5 hours without stopping we are moving our toes now, but still we don't have warm toes. We feel the coldness in the toes. That by itself is something positive. At least we still feel our toes. As long as we feel them it is not so bad.

On one of these many short stops to catch our breath I spotted the other two Austrians on their descent. They told us that they are coming from the peak, that it gets tougher up there, that the snow was up to 15cm above their knees and that there was no visibility on the summit. They stayed only a few minutes on the summit as there was nothing to see due to clouds and fog. Based on what our countrymen told us we estimated another 90 minutes to the top. To me it was a done deal now. We are above 6,000m and I feel in excellent shape. We are going to make it.

The terrain is now less steep. That sounds good, but it turns out to be a disadvantage. Since it was less steep, more snow has piled up. 60 cm of fresh powder snow from yesterday. With every step you sink up to your knee and further into the snow. How much energy does a single step cost at 6,000 meters? Now imagine, how much energy will it cost you to raise your foot out of 60 cm of powder snow at 6,000 meters and set it down again in a hole of 60 cm of snow? I even tried to "swim" with arms and legs on top of the snow, but that doesn't work. There is no other solution, other than step-by-step fighting against the snow knowing that the peak is only a few (maybe 50?) meters of altitude away from us. We have to fight another hour uphill against the snow, but we reach a wooden stick which marks the summit. We have arrived.

Only four people make it to the top today. All four are Austrians. Not a single guide gets close to the summit. And hence not a single paying client gets to the 6,000m mark. With the exception of the descending Austrians we have not seen a single human soul since 4 a.m. and we will not see anyone anymore until back at the refuge. To my big surprise the person I had given the highest chance of making it to the top, our French acquaintance, had thrown the towel very early at 2 a.m. I do not know why he and his guide turned around so early and in an area without difficulty. I would have loved to talk to him again but our paths should not cross again.

We are on the top of Chimborazo. It is ours. For me, the personal top of the world for today. I still have a lot of energy. Seriously, I am not tired. Needless to say that I am happy. I enjoy the moment and I am free of worries. I set down my light backpack in the snow. It holds the minimum equipment in Messner's Alpine style. It is the same simple colorful backpack that I own for about 20 years. I used it at the end of high school, I used it during my years of study in the US and I had it with me on many small mountains around the world. Many times people told me it is time to throw it away. I could never separate me from it. Today it is my faithful companion here on the summit of Chimbo. It holds 2 liters of water (still untouched), 1 pair of spare gloves (still untouched) and the ski goggles. And nothing else. In my pant pockets I have 2 sets of spare batteries and a few power bars for snacking.

Now it is time to take pictures. This moment will never come back so we want to capture it in photos. The snot drops freeze on our noses in a moment. It is windy and cold. I take of my gloves to take pictures and in brief moments my finger hurt due to the cold. We take dozens of pictures. We stay 45 minutes to walk around, see the summit from all angles and pose for photos. For brief minutes, some 5 of them, the clouds disappear and we can see in all directions without handicap.

At 8 a.m. we had reached the top, at 9 a.m. the weather turned ugly. We are on our way down now as it is starting to snow and a dense fog sets in. All is white: the snow under our feet, the fog, and the clouds. I can't distinguish anything. Wherever I look it all looks the same: a blanket of white. I have to ask Franz to take on the leadership on our way down because he has better vision than I. Twice I believed to have seen a person in the fog and twice I was wrong. In both occasions it turned out the "persons" were just rocks. That's why Franz is the guide now. He has better eyes.

Shortly alter 12:00 midday we reach the refuge. It is all empty. Everyone had left already. Nearly everyone is on a tight schedule. Monday here, Tuesday there. There is no time for a second attempt. All the transport is pre-arranged. When the guides and the clients come off the mountain the transport is waiting and there is no time to lose. It wasn't surprising to us to find the refuge all empty. The people from yesterday had all gone. They are on their way to the next mountain and the people from today have not yet arrived as they typically come mid-afternoon.

We prepare our backpacks and hike down to the lower hut and the parking lot. Lucky Lady is on our side and we quickly find a transport - to my amazement. A couple of Austrian tourists came here to have a cup of tea at the foot of the mountain and they offered us a ride back in their car. I have rarely seen so many Austrians abroad. Like through spiritual guidance these other four Austrians helped us a lot today. Two helped us get to the top by preparing the powdered snow on the last 90 minutes below the peak and these two helped us get off the mountain and back into civilization. Civilization has a name: Ambato, the nearest city and the base city for Chimbo.

As I am typing this I am sitting in an internet café in Ambato. We are both happy and healthy. We have spent the last 5 days in refuges, 5 days with very little sleep, 5 days in the cold, 5 days with limited food. My knee hurts quite a bit and my throat is extremely sore. But we are very happy. Our next task is to find Fernando who isn't in his hotel and the hotel clerk said that there is no message for me.

Hugs from the point farthest away from the center of our planet Earth, Manfred and Franz

November 20, 2004

Last night we went to bed at 10 p.m. We slept till 6:40, nearly 9 hours. It has been a while that I could enjoy so many hours of sleep. What a pleasure. The hotel is of class 3. No, not of 3-stars but of 3 dollars. The shower is digital. What I mean is that it has two sates: extremely hot or extremely cold. So, it's no surprise that I was half boiled and have frozen as I stepped out of the shower. Anyway, it is going to be a day of relaxation and we still have not met up with Fernando.

One new body part started hurting today. Which one? The nose? Why? I put sun block factor 60 on my nose but not into my nostrils. Amazingly I have a sunburn in my nostrils. Who would have thought that that is possible?

It rained yesterday in Ambato and today the rain showers continued. It actually should not be raining. This is the dry season. People explain the unusual precipitation and generally strange weather with the effects of "el niño". It is very rare that it snows on Chimbo in November and during our short stay it snowed on both days, with more than 60cm of fresh snow. The same in Ambato. It is not supposed to rain but it rains every day.

We spend the day with two activities: strolling through the markets and eating. There are some four markets in Ambato. Anything edible you can find here. All shorts of veggies and fruits. But also strange items like roasted pig heads, pig feet, chicken feet, intestines, brain and more. To make up for the rather meager dishes of the last three days (soup, bread, 3 small sausages, chocolate and power bars were all we had) we stuffed ourselves at every opportunity. Bread, both sweet and sour, and two liters of milk for breakfast was a good start of the day. For lunch we had a soup with a little bit of everything at one of the markets. The soup was full of cabbage, wheat, potato, and a piece of meat. Desert was something new, something I never had. Powdered corn with milk and sugar. As afternoon snack bananas and papaya ended up in our stomachs and for dinner a chicken had to give its life.

Hugs, Manfred and Franz

November 21, 2004

The weather is bad. There are strong winds, all the way from the parking lot to the summit. Wind and fresh snow. There is even wind inside the refuge (which has holes like a Swiss cheese). Franz looks towards the peak. The clouds pass by the peak in a single second, giving us an indication of the speed. We estimate it at 100 km/h at the summit. The refuge is so different from our first stay. Unlike the big crowds of 60 people on our first visit, now there are only 4 people in the refuge. Only 4! This is remarkable for Cotopaxi. At night time the number climbs to 11 guests, but even that is little for the most popular mountain of the country.

We are in the sleeping bags like icicles. We got all our cloths on as always (from thermo short, short, fleece and even the Goretex jacket) and still we are cold inside our sleeping bags. White condensation air leaves our mouths as we speak or breathe. We have ice cold feet and toes during hours while inside the sleeping bag. Pretty worrisome. If we have cold toes inside the sleeping bag how will they feel like on the trail on the glacier? Worse is that we have to listen non-stop to the howling wind. I don't want to know what the wind must be like on the summit now. My brother thinks it is strong enough to throw a person to the ground or worse. At 8 p.m. I get up to talk to the local in charge of the refuge. I ask him all the typical questions like "In this kind of wind is it possible to make it to the top? Who is going to try it?" I couldn't really get any meaningful information out of the guy. What did I expect?

It is getting close to midnight. The wind is still howling without recess. We still have not decided what we are going to do. Give it a shot? See how far we can get? Stay in bed?

November 22, 2004

An hour later there are sounds and noises again in the refuge. Team 2, the English, had come back. After only 30 minutes on the mountain they had decided to turn around. That confirms our decision. I keep listening. But there are no more noises. 3 a.m. passes, 4 a.m. passes, 6 a.m. passes, still no noises. What happened to the Germans? The two Germans are alone on the mountain and had not come back. At 9 a.m. there is noise. It's the Germans. I am happy to hear them come back. I am even happier when I hear they made the summit! Incredible. What an achievement, very impressive! Hat off to these two fellows.

For us it is another day in the refuge. And that is neither funny nor pleasant. It is cold; the food is the same old stuff (soup and bread). At least to spice up our caloric intake we brought avocados this time. That's luxury. We are waiting; we try to sleep which is still difficult. The Germans reported about a ladder that crosses a wide crevasse close to the peak. I thought that under good weather conditions the ascent is a piece of cake, but now the Germans got me worrying again.

We listen to the wind. It does not stop. It is now already 24 hours that the wind blows so strongly. At last at 7 p.m. the wind seems to ease up a bit. But the toes are still cold inside the sleeping bag, despite our "super" termo-tex socks.

Midnight is approaching again. About 40 people are in the refuge. Team 1 consists of 10 Japanese and a handful of guides. Team 2 is a group of some 12 Italians. And then there are other smaller groups like 3 Americans with a guide whom we know. Surely in minutes the people will get up to get ready.

November 23, 2004

At 1:20 a.m. we start. There were 10 cm of fresh snow; so we decide to put the crampons on at the refuge already before we left. That was my strategy to avoid getting cold in the middle of the mountain at the entry point into the glacier where most people put them on. The overall strategy worked well. In an hour we pass the first team. After the second hour we pass some two more teams. We walk slowly, but without stopping. It is still night as we reach the point where we had turned around on our first attempt several days ago. I pause a moment to look at the watch. We are 1 hour faster than on our first intent. Only 4 hours ago had we left the refuge. It is still night and we have only 200 meters of altitude ahead of us. But the rumors say that these last 200m are going to be tough ones, steeper than the rest before. We pass by an overhanging wall of some 12 meters. The sun is not out yet, but it is starting to become day. It is getting steep. Now that we can see, the trail looks more dangerous. Now we can see that we would slide or falls hundreds of meters if we slip. The night provides certain innocence. 45 minutes from the turn- around point from the last attempt we reach the ladder.

There is a crevasse, some 6 meters wide and deep. One can't see the bottom of it, but certainly it is more than 6 meters deep. Across the crevasse is a 5-meter ladder. Yes, a 5-meter ladder across a 6-meter crevasse. Since the ladder is too short to reach across the gap the last meter is bridged with a single rope connecting the ladder with the ice. We cross with care and without any problems. From here another 75 meters await us. This is the last ascent, the last steep incline. Some people are at the end of their strength. The guides need to push them uphill now or pull them up on the ropes. Franz and I pass more than a dozen people on this last slope and arrive as third team on the summit.

We have arrived. Cotopaxi is now ours. 5h 45min to the summit. 5,897m. It took us three days including one failed attempt and one night waiting the wind storm out, but now we are here. The two first teams have descended already and for a brief minute we have the summit to ourselves. The sun is shining. It is a beautiful day. It was worth the wait. The weather could not be better. We see the crater, a giant hole, right in front of us. Bad smelling fumes rise from it and occasionally the wind blows the hot fumes towards us. We not only note the smell but also the warmth of the air.

In the distance we see Chimborazo. The Ilinizas are close. How beautiful. I feel good; nearly relaxed. I didn't have to open my mouth, just breathing thru the nose was sufficient. I could handle a few more hundreds of meters, but there aren't anymore. It cannot be compared with Chimbo where we ascended slowly with 3-minute breaks every 10 meters. Here we did not have to fight against the thin air. We ascended the complete mountain without a single stop or break. We are in better shape and better acclimatized I assume. There was no fight here on Cotopaxi; it was just a matter of persistence, a matter of stamina to handle 6 hours of ascent.

Now the Italians arrive. A woman falls onto her knees and starts crying and sobbing in a loud voice. Clearly a very emotional moment for her and an emotional moment for me just listening to her. I didn't understand what she was saying, maybe she was praising the Gods, I don't know.

Since the weather is fantastic we stay 30 minutes on the summit, primarily to take pictures. The guide Washington is pulling the 3 Americans to the top. A Japanese mountaineer is pulled to the top by his guide and then collapses on the summit. He lies on the ground without moving. As we descend he still lies there. We have only done half so far. The destination is not the summit, but the refuge. With a lot more care than on the ascent we descend. Slowly but safely we move downhill. Soon we are the last on the mountain as most people walk faster downhill than we do. In 4 hours we make it back and at 11 a.m. we reach the refuge, our true destination. The screen of the digital camera breaks and we suspect it is due to the cold. The temperatures were certainly below freezing as my partially frozen water bottle proves.

We have achieved something big today already but we still have a long day ahead of us. Our next goal is the third highest mountain of Ecuador: Cayambe, and we want to reach it today. We pack in the Cotopaxi refuge, walk down to the parking and our transport brings us to the Panamericana highway. From there in a bus to Quito and in Quito we change the bus to go to Cayambe.

But again things do not go as planned and one always must expect surprises. Today again is again strike. This time it is the indigenous that want more money for irrigation projects. To show their frustration they block the largest highway of the continent, the Panamericana. They built a series of barricades consisting of trees, branches, tires and garbage. They set it afire and shout their slogans. Some of the protestors are drunk and we are warned that we should not get too close as it could get dangerous. Our bus and dozens of other vehicles are stranded. The travel companions from our bus advise us that we should wait until the protest is settled. We wait and wait. There are lots of cops around but they do not seem to do anything. They are just waiting like us. A lot of cops, a lot of fire, a lot of rumors. But no movement.

Eventually the police says it is safe now to continue walking and cross the barricades on foot. We get going. It is 8km to the village of Cayambe. We hitch a ride on the back of a pickup truck which takes us to the bridge where the next barricade is. We pass trees, big rocks and by the time we reach the bridge it is already passable. Without further surprises we reach the village of Cayambe at night.

It's 7 or 8 p.m. We are hungry. Twelve hours ago we stood at the second highest peak of Ecuador and since then we did not have a meal. My stomach is growling. Anything will do. "Pizza and Cola for $1" stands on a sign where the pickup drops us off. Mhhh. That is just an appetizer for us. Thereafter we have the traditional dinner of chicken and rice. Tired we drop into our hotel bed, well noted the cleanest and most luxurious hotel of our vacation so far. We will sleep real well, no doubt about it. Before I nod off, I measure my pulse since it is one simple indicator of the level of acclimatization. I have a resting pulse of 52 now here in Cayambe, at the Cotopaxi refuge I had 60, and in the refuge of Chimborazo I had 90.

Good night, Manfred and Franz.

November 24, 2004

The village of Cayambe is bigger than I had expected. The guide book says 15,000 inhabitants but it looks a lot bigger. One can find nearly anything here: supermarket, Internet, some three hotels, etc. Plenty of restaurants and food stalls of course. What one cannot find here: tourists and mountain shops or agencies. Apparently everyone that climbs Cayambe uses Quito or Otavalo as a base. As tourists we are an attraction in this village.

It's 2 p.m. as I am writing these lines. In some 10 hours at midnight we are going to start our ascent. The last mountain. I am worried and nervous again. I feel fear. I am always preoccupied hours before a climb. It is my nature. I guess it is form of my unconscious preparation for the mountain. But that should not worry you. Furthermore it is our last mountain on this vacation. Three young people came to our hotel and want to chat with us about the mountains. I did mention already that we are an attraction in the village. Word had gotten out that we are climbing Cayambe and these youngsters from the local mountain club came to see us. Their chin dropped when we told them that we are going without a guide. They say there are a lot of crevasses and that it is difficult. These things can be heard about any of these mountains. It doesn't really mean too much. The three youngsters had not yet made it to the top. The French guy whom we met at Cotopaxi and on Chimborazo made the Cayambe summit some 10 days ago. This gives me a certain level of confidence; but then again he is a better climber than we are and he had a guide.

We carry food for two days (8 rolls of bread, 3 sachet of powdered soup, chocolate, 3 mangos, and 1 yogurt) and in case of need it can be stretched for a third day. Tonight we will make our first attempt without pushing too hard. We will try the same strategy as on Chimbo and Cotopaxi. We are ready for two and if necessary three attempts. Secretly I am looking forward to get it over with, get it behind me, and relax in Otavalo.

Hugs from some 35 km away from the Cayambe summit, Manfred and Franz.

A pickup brought us close to the Cayambe refuge. A 30km ride, and a very scenic one it is. The pickup can't quite make it to the refuge as a 4x4 is needed for that; but he drops us at only 30- minute walk from the hut.

The refuge is at 4600m and by now I don't notice the altitude much. Cayambe is the mountain that I know least about; pretty much nothing to be honest. But once at the refuge I hope to be able to get some useful information. The hut is very clean and half empty. I start my "exploration" by talking to the person in charge of running the hut. He tells me that there are 15 people here. He goes on telling me that there are 2 groups. Team 1 are twelve Americans with 3 or more guides. Team 2 are two other Americans with one guide. That guide is from the famous mountain agency "Mountain Madness", an American company that also does Everest.

The difference in life style and comfort level of the Americans is obvious on entering the refuge. They brought everything in their 4x4: CD players, speakers, etc. And all the equipment. My two backpacks seem a lot but these people have three times the volume of stuff. Of course, they don't have to carry it. The sleeping bags are all first-class, I even saw one bring a pee-bottle. Wow, they really got everything.

The guide from Mountain Madness explains me the route: on the first hill of rocks straight, then to the left, then right, then a flat area, it goes downhill for some 30m of altitude, then the entrance into the glacier, and then follow the tracks during some 5 to 6 hours. He thinks that there is little risk and that one cannot get lost (how often have I heard that in the last weeks and still we got lost). He also comments that the crevasses can be passed without big problems. That sounds too easy to be true.

We had arrived at 4 p.m. at the refuge and we only have two hours of light left. We use the time before the night falls in to explore the first part of the trail. The trail starts in rocks and is rather poor (slippery, sliding sand and places with 5 meters of vertical drop). During the night this part with its slippery rocks can be dangerous. We search for the easiest ascent and mark that route with arrows made out of rocks on the ground and marks on the surface of the large boulders. We hope that we can find our marks again with our head lamps at night.

The Americans stay for a minimum of three days. Nobody is going to tackle Cayambe tomorrow. We will be the only ones on the mountain. Two lost souls - Franz and I - out there in the vastness of Cayambe. We dine well: soup, bread, avocado, and mango. At 7 p.m. we hit the sack. We are in good shape, both mentally and physically. We are stronger and our stomachs are well. I continue with my two problems. My knee continues to hurt. I have stopped taking pain killers. They hurt most when I need to bend them and need to keep them bent, like is case on the buses or the pickup trucks that bring us to the refuges. The knee also hurts when I sit down on the toilet or when I put on the boots, all the places where I need to bend them. But once I am out on the mountain I tend to forget all about it. The other health issue is my throat. It is bad all last week. The cold temperatures and the wetness on the refuges have made it worse. I have a layer of something stuck to my throat and now and then, coughing, a piece of ugly green and bloody piece loosens. It has nothing to do with the altitude, just with the cold.

Laying in bed, once again my body produces adrenalin in excess due to my nervousness and worries. Suddenly it is hot in the sleeping bag. I get rid of my Goretex jacket but that is not enough to cool me down, I even have to open the sleeping bag partially. Franz snores on my side and I try to catch some z-s. At 11 p.m. I finally fall asleep.

November 25, 2004

The footprints are from 3 to 4 people who had been here two days ago. Nobody was on the mountain yesterday. Since we are the only one on the mountain we have to walk with extra care. In case of an emergency it would take an average of 7 hours to get first help, and that is if someone was willing to help. In 7 hours one can freeze to death. We understand well: Each step must be placed safely.

It keeps snowing and snowing. The visibility stays at 30 meters. Bad conditions. It is too warm. We have to take off our jackets. It might sound strange but warm weather on the mountain is bad, for multiple reasons: the risk of avalanches increases, the snow turns sticky and sticks to the boots making the ascent more costly in terms of the energy needed, the sticky snow increments the risk of hurting oneself, etc. The snow sticks to the clothing and then melts due to our body heat making the cloths wet and heavy. We see little but we continue our ascent. We pass a dozen of small crevasses of about half a meter. There is no danger. My brother and I have a brief discussion about the weather and whether we should turn around. I insisted on continuing uphill. My brother had doubts. He wasn't sure if standing on the top is sufficient reason to continue if we can't see anything at all in the fog and can't take any pictures. He called me stubborn. He gave in and agreed that we will continue.

At 5:30 the day starts replacing the night. We see giant crevasses (more than 10m wide) close to the trail. We continue to follow the footprints from 2 or more days ago. We reach a big crevasse. It is 1 meter wide on the top, but they typically widen below. A snow bridge bridges it on the top. As I step on it part of the snow bridge breaks under me. One of my feet sinks in up to my crotch. With the ice axe I hook into the other side of the crevasse and I pull myself out. Throughout these brief seconds I stayed very calm - surprisingly and unexplainably. My heartbeat doesn't go up. Sounds weird, but I took it as something normal. No big deal, my brother and I haven't even spoken about the incident. It was just one of many steps on the mountain.

The ascent was steep now and it is a bit frightening not to see anything. Everything is white. The sun must be up, but we cannot see it because of all the fog. Visibility continues at 30 meters. We are very close to the summit. We were told that there are a lot of crevasses close to the peak. Only 10 meters of altitude are separating us from the top. Crevasses are awaiting us. I am actually considering that the last 10m might not be worth the risk. Well, the footprints continue. So, I follow. This whole piece here makes me feel uneasy. On my left is a vertical wall of ice between 4 and 8 meters. On my right are crevasses. And in the middle is a bridle area -1 meter Wide - where I walk. It is better to walk fast. I do not want to stop here. My brother waits down on the snow, at the foot of the ice wall.

Alter 6h 30min we reach the summit of Cayambe, 5790m, third highest mountain of Ecuador. We see absolutely nothing. All is white. Since we went one at a time onto the summit there is not even a summit photo. It is funny. During the night all is black. Now all is white. Visibility is down to 5 to 10m and it is still snowing without stopping. In the last 7 hours 10cm of fresh snow have fallen. Below the summit, at the foot of the ice wall we take a few pictures.

The downhill part is terrible. On the one hand I am worried that we will lose our own tracks due to the snowfall. I want to rush back as fast as possible to assure that we will have some footprints to follow. It is hard to see anything, the snow starts to hide the track and the warm weather (maybe -3C) makes the snow very difficult for walking. The snow is no longer frozen and we brake through the snow cap, sinking in down to the knees in the sticky heavy snow. On one occasion I sank up to my belly button into the snow. This heavy snow takes a lot of energy out of me and it costs a lot of concentration to avoid falling and breaking a bone. Despite the concentration once I slide into the snow with one leg while the rest of my body falls forward causing my knee to overextend. It was a bit painful but luckily nothing serious. I hated this downhill portion. My brother walked first now as a guide advising of the tiny crevasses that crossed our path. I had a hard time keeping up with him under these snow conditions. Continuously breaking into the snow was just terrible. And the snow kept on falling.

12 hours after leaving the refuge we were back. I was really pleased that all had a happy ending. Franz wants to do Cayambe again when the weather is good, to take pictures and to enjoy the hike. Today we had bad conditions. But tomorrow it could be even worse. It is still snowing. Tomorrow it could be impossible to reach the summit due to all the new snow. I don't want to wait two day to possibly be able to ascend on a day with sunshine. Who knows, it could be snowing during several days. Given this uncertainty we decide - based on my pushing - to not return to Cayambe a second time. Once should be sufficient.

For us this is the end of our mountains: we did three 3000m+, some six 4000m+, three 5000m+ and one 6000m+ mountains. We did the three highest mountains of Ecuador, all solo (without rope) and without guide. For a while we can be proud. The Americans on the refuge congratulate us and give us big smiles. Knowing that no more mountains are waiting for us I can enjoy these congratulations twice as much. Nothing can spoil our success anymore. We have reached our goal.

Returning to the village of Cayambe I had agreed to get in touch with the guys from the Andean Mountaineering Club. I visit them at the fire brigade where they work. We chatted and they gave us posters of Cayambe to take home. With the mountains being a closed deal now, we could focus on relaxation and shopping and there is no better place than Otavalo for that. We hop on a bus and are off to Otavalo where we arrive at sunset. Time to feed our stomachs and to write the email travel report.

Hugs, Manfred and Franz

November 26, 2004

We do all the things we didn't do in the last weeks. We sleep a lot, we eat a lot and we do sight- seeing. We typically now eat 2 full set meals each, and the waiters look a bit strange at us. Like always the menus have chicken and rice. We also had a hot-dog and even the hot dog came with pieces of chicken sprinkled on top of it. Is there any meal in Ecuador without chicken?

For sight-seeing we leisurely stroll through Otavalo. Being a tourist place there are plenty of little things to see. I learned that supposedly the indigenous do not speak Quechua, but Kichwa, a different language or at least a different dialect.

Hugs from the rainy indigenous capital of Ecuador, Manfred and Franz

November 27, 2004

There are three markets in Otavalo: the craft market (really 90 percent textiles and clothes), the fruit and vegetable market and the animal market. In the morning we have been visiting the craft market and in the afternoon the food market. You can image. Clothes of all colors of the rainbow make the craft market a bounty for photographers. The colors range from soft pastel tones to striking intense colors. Socks, pants, jackets, hats, scarves, gloves, carpets, wall carpets and hammock are the typical articles on sale. Hundreds of stalls work hard to sell these goods under such tense competition. They are well trained in squeezing a few dollars out of the pockets of the tourists.

In the food market we take the opportunity to once again stuff ourselves. Here we delight on cooked veggies, many different types of corm and roasted pig. As dessert we find delicious fried bananas which are served with thick syrup of hot steaming raspberry juice. Second dessert was hot chocolate with fresh doughnuts made in front of us. Lip smacking good. We are making up for all these days of soup and infusions in the refuges.

Hugs from the travelers Manfredito and Franz

November 28, 2004

Instead of returning on the same way we decide to make a full loop, continuing now towards the lake San Pablo. Farmers are washing their clothes in the river, kids are bathing and swimming in the shallow portions of the river and others just catch a nap on the river shore on this warm sunny afternoon. The lake is large, some 2km across. The water that runs off the lake is the water that feed the Peguche Falls. The stretch from the falls to the lake was especially scenic and idyllic.

From San Pablo Lake we take a shortcut to return back to Otavalo. This shortcut crosses the shoulder that we had hiked on the first day of this month. On top of the shoulder is a single tree, standing by itself, all alone. It is a sacred tree and the area close to the tree is also holy to the indigenous people. It is called Loma Pucara.

The waterfalls, the Peguche Falls, are also sacred. It is said that the energy of the universe unites with the energy of nature in these falls. The shamans (priests of the indigenous people) take a bath in the pools of these falls on June 21, longest day of the year.

Hugs from the sacred sites we have been visiting today, Manfred and Franz

November 29, 2004

Hugs, Manfred and Franz

November 30, 2004

Epilogue

• The weather and our head. Once there is good weather reaching the summit is a mental matter. One has to have a strong desire and good mental resistance.