Hiking at 16,170 feet

August 4th, 2009: Stepping out of the Toyota VI land capsule, I made one small step for man and one large step for mankind as I faced the elements on Mt. Cotopaxi. It seems as if I just walked in on a 1,000,000 plus year battle between the wind and the mountain as it rips over its surface, trying to peel its loose lifeless skin. With no trees to hug or bushes to hide under, I had nothing to keep me for being involuntarily lifted off the mountain as the wind pushed me around. Leaning deep into the wind I was able to walk in somewhat of a straight sober-like line until it would take a breath, falling forward as I leaned into what was no longer there. The small rocks tried to escape the mountain by sneaking in from the tops of my shoes, hoping that I would transport them to safety. Helping weigh me down, I was initially happy to assist a few refugees… until they tried to completely occupy my shoes. Not wanting to be selective, I dumped all of them on the side of the trail.

At about 15,180 feet, I thought I would have had more serious issues adapting to the thin air. Initially I felt as if each breath was a challenge and every movement seemed as if I was on my third and final set of resistance training at the local gym. The immense sound of the wind doing its war cry masked all other noises, preventing me from hearing the sound of my lungs struggling for air and the impact of my feet as it made contact with the snow and rocks. As time grew older…instead of being weakened by the altitude I began to feel extremely light and powerful. For some odd reason, it didn’t even seem as if I owned my body…it was a machine, moving to its destination. I experienced almost no pain except for when the wind performed an unqualified acupuncture session on my face with what felt like frigid needles. Either I was actually getting stronger as the trail moved us higher up the mountain or I might have been - just maybe…suffering from a lack of oxygen and didn’t know it.

After an hour of hiking, my group and I reached the refuge at 15,840 feet. Standing here, for the first time I thought that it would have been amazing climbing to the peak. When I say climb, it is more like a stroll since Cotopaxi is the place where you can see a pregnant woman with a bad fitting artificial leg and her 6 year old son strapped to her back summiting the top - as long as she has the $190…for each of them.

Intending to make it to the base of the glacier, we left the safety of the refuge and headed up the trail. As the elevation increased, the trail began to hide from us by going underneath the snow. Standing there naked, with no gear, I noticed the angle of the slope with dramatically increasing. I am not calling myself a mountain climber, but having watched enough Hollywood films to know that if there was a slip, we would be performing a high speed slide, without stopping until striking the jagged rocks sitting below us as bumpers in a pinball machine. Just as I internally thought that I really didn’t want to play follow the leader anymore, our guide turned to me and said that we could not go any further. Thanks beejesus…he reads minds - stopping our ascent at around 16,170 feet.

On my decent from the refuge, I felt the hood on my jacket filling with air, creating a miniature parachute carrying me down, as my steps were more like record breaking long jumps on the loose tiny stones. Reaching the Toyota VI capsule, I childishly called…shotgun. Slightly chilled, I climbed inside sitting in front with my hands resting on the vents…hinting to our driver that I was anticipating the hot air…that never arrived. I would like to think, it was broken. Today, Mt Cotopaxi…tomorrow, Mt…Rushmore.