Missed opportunity at El Misti volcano
I’ve always wanted to hike a volcano. There’s no source for this desire of mine that I know of — no suppressed trigger from my childhood, no daredevilish dream needing realizing, no genetic memory of mountaineering in my family tree. For no rational reason I want to stand at a thin point in the Earth’s mantle and stare into a conduit that leads to the core.
This desire of mine makes no sense. A volcano, particularly an active one, is clearly not the safest place to spend time. There are potential hazards like exposure to the elements on the barren slope, extreme altitude sickness, and poisonous volcanic gases secretly leeching into the air. Oh yes, and the chance of oozing, skin-searing death by sudden lava or the Pompeii-style instant baked alive death by pyroclastic flow.
Then again, I pursue a lot of travel activities that are not always in my best interest — and some that even scare me. Slides. Street food. Deserts. Canyons (a terrible pairing with my fear of heights). Talking to strangers.
Somehow, hiking the recently declared active El Misti volcano in Arequipa, Peru never occurred to me. I saw its snow-tipped cone pass by the smeared windows of the buses that took me in and out of Colca Canyon. I saw it hover over downtown Arequipa through the car-exhaust-tainted and mist-veiled distance. But I never saw it as a summit to attempt, only a beautiful backdrop.
Later, after leaving Peru behind, I read other people’s trek reports from El Misti:
“I had to purposefully pant like a dog to stay conscious.”
“I wasn’t the only one on the verge of collapse…We had failed, but at least we had failed pretty well.”
“Climbing over boulders was one thing, but the sand and volcanic ash was even worse.”
“I basically just put my head down and marched up the side of the volcano for hours and hours and hours.”
At over 19,000 feet high, I’m sure an El Misti hike would have kicked my ass. I just think that I would have enjoyed the ass-kicking experience.
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Have you ever hiked a volcano? Did it kick your ass?
I have hiked a volcano and it DID kick my ass! It was Volcan Villarrica in Pucon, Chile: loose gravel up to the snow line, then snow, snow, snow. We had packs on with equipment and such, and I felt so overloaded, hot, cold, out of breath, and just plain old. All this melted away when we reached the top and saw the views. The sledding back down the slope was pretty sweet as well…
That sounds both awesome and awful Tamara. Normally, downhill hikes are my cause for agony, so it’s really reassuring to hear that going down a volcano (by sled even!) may not be as bad as a steep hike down into a canyon, for example. Maybe I can hike a volcano after all!
Great blog :)
I hiked El Misti and it almost killed me. I was the only female in our party of three, plus the Peruvian guide. The guide and our friend Mike (the fittest of the three of us) began puking bile before the end of the first day. Mike was convinced to return to base camp the following day after the first stages of delirium set in. Rick and I made it to the top at which point an electrical storm struck and we both began clutching our heads as we were stung dozens of time on the crown of the head. I looked up at Rick and saw him rip the hat off his head and stare inside of it as if a wasp had gotten tangled there; then we realized simultaneously the sensation was lightning. The sky went white and we could no longer see each other, or the rim of the volcano…The guide roped the three of us together and used the ice pick to catch us each time we began to slide down the icy slope. At this point I lost my breath, and went unconscious for a minute or two. The next thing I remember was having to stand and attempt to make it down the rest of the volcano, sliding through volcanic ash, racing the daylight…the guide said the van we had hired would leave at sunset if we weren’t there. Rick took my pack but still my body was in shock; I could only stand for a few seconds before my legs would buckle and I would fall down. Somehow we made it. The next day I woke up with second-degree burns (blisters) all over my face, and sunstroke that kept me in bed for three days. To this day, almost fifteen years later, I have freckles on the tip of my nose that I never had before El Misti. Most amazing thing I ever did. Will NEVER do it again. (Worth it? Sure.)
Thanks for the great blog and the chance to share my story!
Wow. There’s a lot I’d endure for an adventure, but you experience hiking El Misti is a natural disaster too far! I’m glad you made it down from the mountaintop intact.