Climbing The Equator

by Neville Shulman

  The worst thing would be to fight through these conditions and make Cotopaxi but then not have sufficient left mentally or physically to be able to attempt Chimborazo. Of course I might not make either. ‘Ay, there’s the rub.’ Shakespeare has a word or expression to cover every situation. I wave Luis on and we go on for a while further but I soon have to stop again. I start going through the options, not knowing how long it’s taking me. I have lost all sense of time and am in a white world with no shape or form.

  I know my mind is struggling to think clearly. The aim was always to achieve, if possible, Chimborazo and I shouldn’t do anything that could diminish the possibility of achieving that. If I don’t make Chimborazo after trying my hardest, then that would be acceptable. Provided at least I have given it my best shot. My mind clears and I know what I must do. I explain to Luis I have decided to go down and he instantly accepts without comment; the mountain is far too dangerous a place ever to force a climbing decision on anyone. He tells me that anyhow the weather has now closed in so much that I wouldn’t have been able to see the giant crater at the top, nor the Avenue of the Volcanoes, nor any other mountains. If I had continued and reached the summit it could be a Pyrrhic victory, if in doing so it ruined my Chimborazo chances. Luis waits for a few moments, leaving me alone to wrestle with my thoughts until he sees that I have definitely made up my mind to descend. I know from many previous climbing expeditions that the mountain will always be prepared to wait for you until you decide to return. I breathe in Cotopaxi’s thin air.

  Getting down is even worse than expected, and I realise it was totally the right decision to go down, and if anything I should have descended earlier. I am sliding all over the place and it becomes a torment trying to get back safely without an accident. It’s necessary to stop frequently, to gain my balance and work out where best to place my steps to avoid tumbling over, knowing how easy it would be to fall a long way. I pass two climbers going down who are having greater difficulties but they don’t need my help, just time and perseverance. They wave me on and catch up with us at the Refuge later.

  Later in the privacy of my bunk I gingerly remove my boots and socks and examine my feet. They are very beaten up and look quite a mess. I gently coat them with Vaseline but they are going to take a while to recover. The right foot is much the worse and the nail of the big toe is a nasty-looking purple colour. The nail is in fact very loose and looks likely to come off soon. The question is whether to leave it alone and allow it to come off in its own time or pull it off myself. Whichever way, when it occurs it’s going to be very painful. The toe itself is throbbing madly and it’s obviously going to cause problems on my next climb; there’s the possibility that it might not actually allow me to continue. Carefully I cut off the top of the nail to lessen the pressure, cover it with plenty of Savlon cream and bandage the entire foot. I will wait till the next day and look at it again before I decide anything further.

  In fact, in the morning the whole nail has come away in the bandage, leaving very raw skin beneath where it was. It feels extremely tender and I pad it as carefully as possible, although I know it’s unlikely to stand up to any hard ice kicking and rock scrambling.

  As if in sympathy, the thumbnail on my left hand splinters, and part breaks away. I have to cut it down almost to the bone to try and prevent it splintering more. Both my toe and my thumb are now throbbing in some kind of painful unison and I take a yoga position in a corner of the room in an attempt to try to meditate the discomfort and pain away. Not with much success though. It leaves me in a quandary as to how I should proceed and whether I should or even could attempt another mountain. Vivienne Leigh, playing Scarlet O’Hara in Gone With The Wind, always dealt with her problems by proclaiming wistfully, ‘I won’t decide now, I’ll think about it tomorrow.’ That sounds the best way for me to proceed. I’ll also think about it tomorrow.

  I don’t mention to Luis or any of the climbers about these problems as I don’t want any sympathy. After all it’s only a toe. Many polar explorers have lost toes and fingers and have still battled on to reach their ultimate goals. Although maybe they didn’t need to kick their feet into very hard black ice. I still have time to decide, although I know in reality the mountain will decide.

  CHAPTER 12

  MORE MOUNTAINS TO CLIMB

  Just being close to a mountain is a tremendous thrill. Undoubtedly Ecuador’s most famous and toughest mountains are Chimborazo and Cotopaxi, but this country is a mountaineer’s paradise and there are many wonderful high mountains, each with its own special features and aspects. All you need is the time, the determination and a little bit of luck. Better weather conditions than I am experiencing would, of course, be quite helpful. I will certainly return to climb here again and it would be a privilege. The following are some of the mountains that I’d love to experience, and are not listed in any particular order, either of height or difficulty, but merely as the fancy took me. That’s part of the fun of climbing, ‘finding’ a mountain, and preparing to climb it or not.

  COTACACHI was first climbed in 1880 by Edward Whymper and the Carrel cousins and is 4,944 metres (16,220 feet). It is on the northern shore of Lake Cuicocha and constant lake mist usually restricts visibility. Reaching the base of the mountain sometimes requires some ingenuity as the road approaches are often locked and vehicles can’t always get through. Although it’s possible to accomplish the whole expedition in one day, it’s probably preferable to arrive early enough to walk in and pitch camp as far up the base as possible, ready for an early start the next day. At the foot of the mountain there is a military post which is manned, and you need to make certain that there are no special restrictions applying at that time. I am sure the soldiers based there will help you with most things, but I’m afraid you will have to do your own climbing.

  Once you start, the best way is to skirt the military post to the left and head in a north-west direction, zigzagging all the way. A series of cairns will help to guide you on the right path. There are continuous scree sections, so if you prefer to avoid them as I do, you should climb higher to the right within the rocks although this can be painful climbing. There is always a great danger of falling rock, so apart from wearing a helmet you need to keep a watchful eye on the mountain and the conditions at all times. As you work your way upwards you will come across a large col to the south-west of the mountain which will take you through to a rock basin for an exhausting but not too difficult a climb to arrive at the summit ridge. There’s more danger of falling rock there, so extreme care must be maintained at all times. It’s a knife-edge ridge trek of about 15 minutes to the summit, but there are steep drops either side so don’t rush it. There are other routes to the Summit but unless you intend to climb more than once it’s better to stick to this Normal route. The name of the mountain is thought to mean ‘he who grinds salt’, deriving from the fact that salt deposits were found in the earth, which are still being extracted. This should be taken with a pinch of salt.

  IMBABURA (CERRO IMBABURA) is an extinct volcano and its exact height is still being argued over. I have it as 4,630 metres (15,190 feet). It’s approximately 60 kilometres north-east of Quito and also north-east of the famous Indian trading town of Otavalo. It’s possible to tent overnight and climb the next day, or stay in nearby local lodgings. You can also stay in the village of La Esperanza and get someone to drive you in.

  Once you start out do not deviate too much from the main path as the way is confusing, and whatever you do don’t follow any path downwards, or you will be heading in the wrong direction and it will at least double your climbing time. You need to skirt a large ravine, Quebrada San Clemente, and you can do this on either side. Once you have climbed round the ravine you will pass a few houses and a cement water tank, and it should be easy to re-join the same track leading you upwards to the Summit. Along this path you will subsequently come across a set of rocks and you should climb down very briefly in order to circumnavigate them. Then you climb up again to fi
nd the ridge trail, which you should follow carefully around the rim of the crater. It’s supposed to be extinct but you never know your luck! Admire but stand well back. The ridge curves round in a semi-circle to the left and will take you directly to the exposed pyramid Summit. The rock crumbles sometimes, so watch your step and particularly on the return. It’s of course possible to ascend from the Otavalo side but it’s trickier and the rocks are more unstable. This mountain’s name is obscure and somewhat unreliably is said to derive from small fish in nearby streams and therefore to mean ‘Breeding of small fish’. It could be one of those fishermen’s tales. They have them in Ecuador as well.

  CAYAMBE (NEVADO CAYAMBE) is Ecuador’s third highest mountain at 5,790 metres (18,997 feet) and is the highest point on the surface of the earth through which the actual Equator Line passes (4,600 metres on the south side of the mountain). It is also the only place on Earth where its latitude degree and its average temperature degree are both zero. Although one can then jokingly refer to it therefore as ‘the Big Zero’, it is in fact considered to be the most aesthetically pleasing of all the Ecuadorian mountains. It is 65 kilometres north-east of Quito and looks over the volcano mountain of Reventador, 3,562 metres high, known as ‘The Exploder’ because of being one of the most active of volcanoes in the whole of South America.

  Cayambe was also first climbed by Whymper and the Carrels, and its name means ‘Great mountain of the boys’. A huge, glacial, extinct volcano, Cayambe has a reputation for being unpredictable regarding its weather patterns and conditions and there are often avalanches. There is in fact a refuge set at 4,600 metres, named after the three climbers killed in an avalanche in 1974, Cesar Ruales, Carlos Oleas and Joseph Berge. It is possible to drive fairly close to the refuge in order to stay there overnight and that’s what most climbers arrange, but you can also tent nearby if you choose to.

  You can still see clearly the remains of the pre-Hispanic agricultural terraces as you climb the lower slopes. There is an ancient glacial valley at the foot of Cayambe, and the páramo is usually damp and squelchy. The mountain climb start should be no later than midnight, as it’s vital to climb on the frozen snow and get back down before it starts to soften in the late morning and midday heat.

  Starting from the refuge there is a relatively short rock scramble and it’s preferable to climb to the right side. Then you climb to the left around a large rock outcrop to reach the glacier base. This becomes a long but steady climb to the north-west, but there are large crevasses from the outset, so always be well aware of where you are walking and tread cautiously. There are exquisite stalactites and seracs to observe but stay well away from them, as they can be unpredictable and deadly. (Is that an ice dagger I see before me?). You need to head north-east towards a rock outcrop known as Picos Jarrin. Just before reaching that, veer east to another rock outcrop, which you can pass on either side. There is a massive rock face above you throughout but don’t venture onto it, as it will delay your ascent enormously. Head now in an approximate north-east direction and you will eventually reach your goal of the primary flat ridge. Before, to the left of you is the end of the huge rock and ice cliff face. Here you are entering very dangerous crevasse territory, which you must climb through slowly and with great care. This route will eventually take you to an ice basin combining with a large crevasse or bergschrund at around 5,600 metres and this area is particularly dangerous. You will need to work carefully round the basin to the right, all the time staying very aware of avalanche possibilities. You may even need to descend partly into the crevasse. Once through you will finally reach the main glaciated summit ridge and from there an easy trek will see you soon at the Summit itself. The views, given the right weather conditions, are magnificent in all directions. Cayambe has an uplifting name: ‘Healer of the Future’.

  TUNGURAHUA is one of the five volcanic mountains to have erupted in recent times and is within the Parque Nacional Sangay. The last proper eruption was in 1999, the same year as Guagua Pichincha’s, and before that it was some eighty years earlier in 1918, perhaps occurring as a celebration of the end of the First World War! Luckily it didn’t notice when the Second World War finished. However there are small tremors from time to time, just to remind us that it can let off steam whenever it chooses. The last big one was in 1711 when it destroyed the nearest village of Pondoa. Any major eruption would also easily have an effect on the town of Banos, which is close by and has a thriving tourist industry thanks to the local hot thermal baths. Let’s hope that the bath plug hole is only used for draining the hot water away and doesn’t suddenly erupt with a massive geyser rocketing skyways, providing the unfortunate bather with a rather nasty surprise.

  The mountain is at a height of 5,029 metres (16,500 feet) and was first climbed in 1873 by the two German climbers Alfonso Stubel and Wilhelm Reiss. Climbers are, in fact, often only allowed to go on the volcano with special permission, and are not usually encouraged to apply. Tungurahua is a beautiful mountain nonetheless, worth a visit just to view it, and is just over 10 kilometres south of Banos, as the lava flows.

  To make the climb it’s a trek in from a police check point and from there a gentle trail to follow to the right which then takes a very sharp turn further to the right towards the refuge. Before reaching it you come to the very small village of Pondoa where you can hire a guide if you want to. From Pondoa it’s an easy but tiring trek to the left to the Sangay Park entrance. Once inside there is a further trail to the left to follow but this is steep and passes through all kinds of tropical vegetation including banks of differing bamboo. The refuge is set at 3,800 metres and also offers a view of the east side of Chimborazo. As always it’s preferable to set off to the summit from the refuge very early in the morning, before the snow has time to soften and slow you down. Heavy rain can often cause mudslides from the volcano flanks. Gases are also emitted from the volcano which can be highly toxic and dangerous; definitely no laughing matter. The climb is not difficult technically but is extremely steep, it’s not as easy as it appears to get up and down in one day and it’s preferable to use the refuge as a staging post. The mountain’s name means ‘Burning Throat’ and is thought to refer to the image of the volcanic fire bursting out of a headless giant mountain creature.

  EL ALTAR is the mountain that took the longest of all to climb, as its summit was only reached in the comparatively recent year of 1963 by the Italian Marino Tremonti and his team. Even the great mountain climber Edward Whymper couldn’t make it. It is now the fifth highest at 5,319 metres (17,451 feet) and its volcano is extinct but it’s thought its cone was originally higher than Cotopaxi, until it blew its stack in a very violent eruption. There’s a lesson for all of us in that. It has nine summits and the first time all nine were climbed in one expedition was only as recently as 1995, by two Ecuadorians, Osvaldo Freile and Gabriel Llano. It’s considered the most religious of all the mountains, as the names given to all parts have some religious or clerical connotation. The overall name of Altar is self explanatory of course, but the actual summits are called El Obispo (the bishop) at 5,320 metres, El Canonigo (the canon) at 5,260 metres, La Monja Grande (the great nun) at 5,160 metres and the remaining lesser ones are El Fraile Grande (the great friar), La Monja Chica (the little nun), El Tabernaculo (the tabernacle) and three more friars, Fraile Central, Fraile Beato and Fraile Oriental. Tremonti and his team returned to climb El Canonigo and El Fraile Grande in 1965 and 1972 and the final summit of El Tabernaculo was climbed by a German team also in 1972. El Obispo and the others are not an easy one-day expedition. They should be taken seriously and it’s necessary to prepare to stay a while.

  It’s a long trek in, whichever route you take and whatever summit or summits you decide to attempt. You can use mules to ease the leg work, but it’s still too long to do anything but plan to get near enough, to give it your best shot the next day and the day after and the day after that. There are several camping areas you can use but the most well known is the Italian Camp; althou
gh you still have to trek and climb for the last three kilometres, no matter what means you use to get you close to the camp. When you are ready to set off from there you need to trek up to the rock ridge till you reach a gully, primarily composed of unstable rock and stone, and there you need to tread very carefully. A twisted ankle or a wrenched knee will put you at the lower end of the religious order. Climb carefully down the gully to the right to reach a plain covered with gravel and scree. Then it’s a long steady climb northwards to the lower glacier, where you have to start ascending round to the right to reach the base of Obispo. You can push on but it makes a very long day. It’s better to tent and be fresh and aware, as the rock areas are weak and unreliable and there are constant dangers of rock falls. There’s a large couloir in the rocks to the left and, unless there has been a heavy snow fall recently, it’s mostly a mix of rock and earth and ice and never to be trusted. After climbing the couloir you will be able to cross a higher glacier to the right which will bring you to another couloir which is very steep and tight. Climb up this and you will be on the summit ridge. It’s now straight to the right to reach an extremely steep rock wall you have to climb to make the summit. Again as always be very careful of rotten and unstable rock which can give way at any time. Once you’ve made the summit, all you have to do is descend! Take it slowly. Although its name is now ‘the Altar’ it is always known locally as ‘The Majestic One’ because its indigenous name was Capacurco which translates as ‘Majestic Mountain’. It’s the only mountain of Ecuador to have had a name change.