Aconcagua Day Eight – 27th December 2014

Posted on January 21, 2015 by aquavista

The rest day at Base Camp (4,200m) was much needed for two main reasons. Firstly we had ascended 1,000m the day before, and everyone needed a chance to try to acclimatise. Secondly I had one of the worst nights sleep I think I have ever have had,. This was caused principally by the fact that Kuntal (my tent mate) was snoring so loud that it could have woken the dead. I learned later that Gary, whose tent was some ways away from ours, had to put earplugs in himself to get to sleep. So in my case without earplugs it wasn’t fun at all. I did wake him up about three times and ask him to roll over, but it made little difference. It also went on all night, and twelve hours is a long time to listen to that.

After a ridiculously good breakfast of porridge, pancakes and eggs, everyone set about doing what the day was for – i.e. resting. We then had a scheduled appointment with the camp doctor at 11am to check on whether we were healthy and acclimatised enough to climb the mountain. This in my view is a very good thing. The tests would measure pulse, blood oxygen saturation, blood pressure, and then listening to heart and lungs. It is compulsory for everyone who climbs Aconcagua, and if you do not ‘pass’ the tests you are not allowed to continue.

Down time in the dining tent – we don’t look too happy do we!

Unfortunately just before 11 as we were waiting we were told that the doctor wouldn’t be ready, as he was dealing with an emergency evacuation. Within about 30 minutes of this a helicopter arrived and some poor soul was taken somewhere to hospital, ailments (although presumably serious AMS) unknown. Such are the perils in the high mountains, and it is a good thing that this Base Camp is so well equipped to deal with them. The fact that there is a resident doctor also shows how high the incidence is of such happenings, and it wasn’t the first time we saw the helicopter that day.

The rescue helicopter on one of a number of visits to camp.

Our appointments were rescheduled for 6pm, and so the afternoon was spent generally faffing with kit. We now basically had to do he reverse of what we had done so far, as the really serious stuff was ahead of us. Tomorrow the mules would take down our duffle bags, and we would begin the process of carrying everything up the mountain. We had to therefore pack all of our mountain equipment, and anything in fact that we might need between now and the 9th January, into our rucksacks. I had a short walk to just above the camp, and was exhausted in the thin air even without a heavy pack on – I could only imagine how hard it was going to be the following day with full pack on.

A look down on Base Camp from just above……

….and a look up at the slope we’d face early tomorrow on the first of our proper carries.

The packing over, and my 90 litre sack bulging at the seams (and this before being given a further 8kg of group gear the next day), we could finally see the doctor.

The examination was thorough, and lots of questions were asked. I disclosed my HACE from Elbrus, and this was duly recorded, but it didn’t phase the doctor. My stats, for the record, were pulse ox of 88 and 120 (pulse the latter, obviously), and my blood pressure 145/85. Everything else in terms of heart and lungs were normal.

The doctor told me that my blood pressure was a little high, if nothing to worry about unduly, and that I should lay off any salt for a few days. He also said that my resting pulse of 120 was a sign that I was dehydrated, and to drink more. I was already drinking a good four litres of water a day, but now that we were higher I knew I needed more, particularly as the Diamox makes you pee a lot more than normal. Everyone else passed too, but with a couple having to return the next day for further blood pressure tests.

So with that we had dinner, surprisingly of pasta not steak, and an early night at about 9pm. Tomorrow morning we would have to carry about 25kg, the biggest load of my life, up to Camp 1 at 5,000m. I can only say that I was a little apprehensive……

Aconcagua Day Seven – 26th December 2014.

Posted on January 19, 2015 by aquavista

Day six began with a very early and very frosty start at 5.30am. We’d be climbing about 1,000m today to Plaza Argentina, which is Base Camp on the Guanacos side of the mountain. The plan was to set off at 7am before it got too hot so we could get up the valley just after lunch, by which time at 14,000 feet (4,200m) the temperature should be very bearable, and so it was to prove.

A cold start to the day before setting off up the valley…..

The outside of the tents and the river bed between us and the valley were frozen as we set out. Our first objective was the river itself. We’d been told to bring sandals for the river crossing so we could wade across. The river however wasn’t wide at all, as the conditions were unusually dry, and so the guides had originally asked the muleteers if they’d carry us across on mules. They’d apparently said that there wasn’t enough in it for them, which I assume meant money, and so we figured we’d just do it under our own steam.

Crossing the river bit by bit, it wasn’t deep, but it was mightily cold!

In the end we did it with a combination of jumping, throwing and passing backpacks, and wading, depending upon your inclination. Either way we all crossed safely and successfully and began the climb up the valley.

The path starts to climb fairly steeply in places, and it is still very cold out of the sun.

The path up is a bit precarious in places, requiring the judicious use of hands clinging onto rocks at times, and not looking down. A slip down would have meant about a 100 foot fall at times, so this isn’t a trek for the faint hearted.

A fleeting view of the top of the snowy peak of Aconagua in the far distance.

Eventually after about an hour and a half’s climbing, steep in places, we got our first sight of ‘the’ mountain. A perfect day, cloudless, the top of the mountain clearly in view above the Polish Glacier, a now unused (due to rockfall and crevasses) and dangerous route. Even from what was probably 15 miles away, Aconcagua looked gigantic. A monstrous and foreboding edifice of sheer rock and ice. It practically looks (to me at least) unclimbable from this side, which I believe it actually is. Our eventual route would take us around the North side of the mountain over a Col, to traverse past the Polish Glacier. But that was a long way off yet, probably 9 or 10 days still.

And more of the mountain comes into view – Aconcagua is on the left.

We carried on up the valley as it opened out into a vast expanse of rocks and scrubland, glacial moraine from probably centuries ago. Lunch was taken in full view of the mountain, which continued to look even more daunting (and higher) the closer we got. It was easy to forget sometimes that from even where we were, at 13,000 feet, the summit was still 10,000 feet above us. And at other times it looked like it went up forever.

And it opens up more - the day getting really hot now, despite the elevation we were at (about 13,000 g=feet here).

And it opens up more – the day getting really hot now, despite the elevation we were at (about 13,000 feet here).

The path then continued or more obvious moraine until eventually Plaza Argentina, or Base Camp, came into view. We arrived at about 2pm, and were greeted with apple juice, nuts, biscuits, cheese, salami and crackers, all served inside our own dining tent! It was fabulous luxury, and couldn’t have been more well received by all of us.

Plaza Argentina is finally here – home for the next few days.

Plaza Argentina is huge, with probably ten or more expedition companies having semi-permanent tents set up there. This would be our home for the next three nights. The remainder of this day we would set up tents, eat and get established. Tomorrow would be a rest day by and large, with a medical examination thrown in, and also sorting out which kit went up the mountain and which went back down. The day after we would go up to camp one, stash equipment, and come back to sleep at Base Camp. All of this was part of our acclimatisation schedule. Going up 1,000m as we had today is tough on the body, and it needs time to get used to the rarefied air.

The tents of Base camp finally come into view. We’d still pitch our own of course.

My tent pitched at Plaza Arentina looking up the valley, where we’d head in a days’ time.

By the time evening came everyone was settled in, and dinner of steak (what else?) and mashed potatoes was served. I was enormously relieved to see that Malbec did not make an appearance for the first time on the trek. Odd though that is for me to say, we were now in mountaineering mode, at altitude, and it was time to get very serious indeed, as if anyone needed reminding. The other difference was the cold – it was now getting seriously cold at night, even inside the tent, so the clothes we’d worn up until now would need to be replaced with something much more substantial. The mules had brought our duffles up this far, but they would now head down the mountain as this was as high as they could go – we’d carry everything ourselves from now on.

We didn’t need to appear much before 9 the next morning, the emphasis being on the need to rest for the time being. Unfortunately sleep came neither soon or easily, due to two factors – one the first night at high altitude is always tricky. Secondly my tentmate Kuntal was snoring like a tractor. Now I snore too, now and again – I know that through having been told enough times in my life :O But this was snoring big time, and I wasn’t doing it, I was listening to it.

Nonetheless we were here, at Plaza Argentina, and it was great. It was time to really get down to the business end of affairs now, and the next few days would sort out the men from the boys – I prayed I was strong enough to be in the former camp.

Aconcagua – Christmas Day 2014

Posted on January 17, 2015 by aquavista

Waking up under canvas for the first time this trip was somewhat strange for a host of reasons. For one it was unexpectedly cold – having been baking under a 30 C sun for all of the previous day it was clearly hat and gloves weather outside. Secondly it was almost surprising to be finally moving – this was after all six days after I’d left England, and this was only day two of the trek. Thirdly it was Christmas Day, and this was the first time in my life I could say that on Christmas morning I’d be waking up next to a bloke who I’d only just met a few days before too! Such is life on a mountain though 🙂

Merry Christmas – and brrr!

I hadn’t slept as well as I would have liked, as I could certainly feel the altitude (even though it was only about 9,500 feet), and also the aforementioned tentmate did snore a bit more than I would have liked, but again such is life on a mountain!

Today we’d trek about 9 miles further up the Guanacos valley. There wouldn’t be too much ascent, only about 400m or so, and this would be the last time we’d be at a ‘sensible’ altitude of 3,000m or so. Tomorrow Base Camp (Plaza Argentina as it is known) would take us above 4,000m for the first time.

It is amazing how quickly the temperature changes once the sun comes up. Within about 10 minutes of the above picture being taken the sun had warmed things up to the point that I was already in shorts.

it’s getting hot already…

Breakfast outside was great, coffee, granola cereal and then bacon and eggs. By the time tents and the like were unpacked it was about 10am, and we set off very soon afterwards. I took my first Diamox of the trip here and vowed to stay on it from hereon in – am not sure if it is an effective antidote against snoring but it might help in other areas!

The trek on up the dry and dusty Guanacos Valley continues….

Still really hot as the valley opens up – even the mules are taking it easy..

The mules overtake us of course and we end up about half an hour behind them into camp.

We spot some Guanacos near to camp – these were the only ones we saw all trip.

By the time we got a few hundred yards from camp, there was an opening in the valley to our left, and a view (our first) of Aconcagua herself. You could immediately see why she is called The Stone Sentinel – apart from how massive the mountain is, it looked dark and broody, a very inhospitable and cold place.

The first sighting of Aconcagua – a great Christmas present!

We pitched tents and got some downtime before dinner, the evening was calm but again got very cold very quickly, and it would be a very cold night with a hard frost.

Our second camp.

Camp 2 – the stone hut was where the muleteers slept and cooked our amazing dinner in a fire pit outside.

Dinner was fabulous. The best chicken I think I have ever tasted – done over hot coals and crispy and wonderful. I don’t think I could have wanted for more. It was the perfect Christmas dinner in fact. It was also washed down with (of course) two bottles of Malbec! I hadn’t expected wine to still make an appearance this far up the valley, although (thankfully I suppose) this would be the last time – we were about to ascend a fair bit the next day, and it was time to get serious now.

Unfortunately the day nearly ended very badly. At the end of dinner we were told that we had to get to breakfast for 5.45 for a 6am start, so once the packing up was done, I went up the hill to the toilet (the green enclosure in the above photo). When I was done, I found that I couldn’t open the door and it had locked shut from the outside. There wasn’t so much as a handle let alone a key and so I was stuck. The only way out might have been down “Slumdog Millionaire” style, and that even went through my mind for a fleeting moment.

I actually had to shout for help in the end, and thankfully after a few valiant efforts from Pete and Gary to break the door down, one of the muleteers appeared with something to unlock it. I can only say that I have never been so relieved in my life. I was there for the longest 20 minutes of my life!

Back to the tent and I reflected on the fact that this was Christmas Day. Those who know me know that I have both been inspired and moved (and that’s a massive understatement I can tell you) for some long time now by a group of people who have given so much back to society, following a most tragic event in their lives. They are known as Pete’s Dragons, and although I won’t go into the whole story here, I would urge you to read about them, and if you can, to please find a way to make a donation to their principal two causes, which are Samaritans and the Cornwall Search and Rescue Team: http://www.petesdragons.org.uk/Core/PetesDragons/Pages/Default.aspx

The point of the above illustration here is that for Christmas, a long way away back in the UK, I’d left letters and gifts of Pete’s Dragons Bears (amongst a few other things) for my son and daughter. They’re 23 and 21 now, but no-one (most certainly including me) is too old for a bear. My own bear came with me on this trip and reminded me of the gift of giving, and it made my Christmas Day a happy one for me.

My “Pete’s Dragons’ Bear, back the day before in the Los Penitentes Hotel.

To Dan and Becca on this Christmas Day, I love you very much indeed, and am so proud of you both.

To everyone else, most importantly to the folks at Pete’s Dragons, I wish you a wonderful and very happy Christmas 2014.

Aconcagua Day Five – Christmas Eve 2014

Posted on January 16, 2015 by aquavista

Day four was the real first day if you like. The day when we would finally start moving up the mountain.

We woke up in the Hotel Ayelena in Los Penitentes and assembled for an 8am breakfast. This would be our last day with a roof over our heads until we returned to Mendoza, so it was nice to have a final shower and the like before waving goodbye to creature comforts for a while. It was also Christmas Eve, although it certainly didn’t feel like it, as it was already hot by 9am, and most people donned shorts for the day ahead.

The gang ready and assembled – time to march!

We’d finalise our readiness for the day by leaving anything that we didn’t need for the mountain at a locker in the hotel, and then got our rucksacks ready for the off. All of our high mountain gear was going by mule for the first three days of the trip, and so we didn’t have to carry too much on our backs.

By the time we set out (about 10.50) it was sweltering, and I was grateful for having bought a hat with a neck flap to keep the sun off the backs of my head and neck. The trail head started at about 2,400m, and after a quick group photograph, we were off, this was it! The going was fairly flat for the main part, as this was the trek in to the mountain itself, a journey of about 30 miles over three days.

At the trailhead on the Guanacos route to Aconcagua.

We walked almost entirely along the edge of a river, which consisted of glacial meltwater from Aconcagua itself. The valley was sheltered from the wind, which made it hotter still, and after a while I felt the backs of my hands burning. Clearly factor 30 sun tan lotion doesn’t cut it round these parts, and so I nabbed a bit from Kuntal who had bought some factor 80, although he said he didn’t need it, has never used it, and therefore had to ask me how to put it on 🙂

The first break, much needed, in the Guanacos Valley.

We stopped for a drinks break after about an hour, and the valley was starting to open up by now.

Further up the valley we begin to climb a bit as it opens up, the temperature still very hot.

We then trekked on looking for our mule train, which eventually overtook us about half an hour from camp.

We spot the mule train coming up the valley behind us, always best to let them pass 🙂

The dry and dusty first day continues – Pete, Mo and Fred lead the way.

We reached camp at about 4, after about 10 miles, and then had fun putting tents up. There is no way on the rock hard ground that you can bang tent pegs in, and so you need to find the largest rocks that you can to secure the tent against strong winds.

We finally reach camp just after the mules do.

Tents can take some careful rigging when the ground is so dry….

....and even if you think conditions are good, as much shelter from the wind is crucial.

….and even if you think conditions are good, as much shelter from the wind as you can get is crucial.

After discussions about AMS from Johnny and Peter it was straight into dinner. A bunch of the muleteers had cooked up an absolute feast over an open fire, and so we dined in fine style on steak and salad. Two bottles of Malbec mysteriously appeared, and it would have been rude (and way beyond my willpower) to say no, so I didn’t.

The sun goes down over the Guanacos Valley, Christmas Eve – even the mules are still.

First dinner on the mountain – the temperature has dropped dramatically by now.

The temperature had dropped from probably 30 degrees to 0 degrees by the evening was done. Retiring into our two man tents it was strange to think that it would soon be Christmas Day. I thought of home and the presents I’d bought (of which more tomorrow), and thought how strange tomorrow would be.

As the night drew on and I fell into sleep, I was woken up at some point by the muleteers, who were clearly celebrating Christmas itself. The cries appeared to be “yeehaas” and the like, probably fuelled by whatever muleteers carry in their saddlebags during the day – they were clearly very happy. I was happy too – happy to be in the Andes, on my way finally to the mountain which I had not yet even seen, but which I knew lay close at hand and presented the challenge of a lifetime for me. Roll on Christmas Day, when I may finally see it at long last!

Aconcagua Day Four – 23rd December 2014.

Posted on January 15, 2015 by aquavista

So day four began with a little earlier wake up than I would have planned. Our schedule was to sign permits at 9am and head out at 10 for our journey by minibus to Penitentes, our final stop under a roof before we return to Mendoza in about 18 days time. There we’d do final gear checks and distribute all of the tents and food between us and the mule train. We’d then head out onto the mountain itself tomorrow.

I’d therefore figured on breakfast at about 8 or so, having packed everything into four bags yesterday (base camp duffle, trekking duffle, expedition rucksack, and ‘non-mountain’ bag. Unfortunately Kuntal, my roommate woke at about 6 or so, and was pacing the floor for about an hour in eager anticipation. I couldn’t blame him – this was his first proper expedition and was like an excitable puppy. I tried to doze but it didn’t really work.

After a final bit of faffing with the bags, and some breakfast, it was time to sign our lives away (hopefully not literally – see form below):

Disclaimer form signed – I still haven’t read it!!

We then got all the bags ready, and sat around for a seemingly interminable time until eventually (about 11.30, this is how time works in Argentina) we headed out in the bus:

Bags nearly ready for the off in the foyer of the hotel.

The journey up and to the Andes was spectacular. A fairly short journey of about five hours (punctuated by a lunch stop at a place in the middle of nowhere at about 2,000m) we saw stunning snow-capped 6,000m peaks from early on.

The Andes come into view from the van

Our van driver definitely didn’t hang about on the road. The road we were on was the main one through to Chile and was a well maintained highway, and the driver seemed intent on seeing if he could get two wheels off the ground on sharp corners, and also see if he could scare the bejeezus out of moped drivers by sitting about three feet behind them. What a guy!

We arrived into the ski resort of Penitentes at about 4pm. It sits at about 2,700m, and is a bit (well a lot actually) on the tired side. There was a chair lift right opposite the hotel but as the temperature was about 25C and there wasn’t a bit of snow in sight, this was not exactly skiing season.

Welcome to the Hotel Ayelena!

Rooms in the hotel…

Plenty of room at the Hotel Ayelena.

The ski lifts (no longer used) in front of the hotel. The top of these slopes must have been close on 4,000m, shame about the lack of snow.

The hotel Ayelena would be our base for the night, and whilst it was every bit as tired as the rest of the resort, it was definitely functional.

Just after arriving, we loaded all of the expedition gear into a weighing room under the hotel, where it was separated into different sections for the mules. We’d likely not see our high altitude stuff until Base Camp three days away. Our trekking bags complete with sleeping bags and surplus clothes etc would go onto the mules each day too along with the food, cooking equipment, tents, tables etc. We would then carry everything else in our rucksacks, and separate the rest into a bag to stay here until we got back off the mountain. This included all street clothes and other travelling stuff. Looking at all of the kit, it began to hot mw just how much we’d need to carry on this expedition. I definitely wasn’t on Kilimanjaro anymore!

Assembling the kit in the weighing room underneath the hotel.

The rest of the evening was downtime until dinner at 9pm. We had a quick walk across the main road to see if there were any signs of life. Aside from a porters lodge (devoid of porters) and a minimart (locked, and devoid of pretty much everything) that was it. It seems the ski resort had been closed for four years now, due to lack of snow.

The anticipation now though was so palpable. We’d been waiting for three days, and the time it took us to travel, and hang around, to get going, was finally over. Everyone was like coiled springs. Tomorrow, finally, after what seemed like forever and a day, we’d stretch our legs and begin the trek to Base Camp. It couldn’t come soon enough – it was Aconcagua time at last, after three years (long story for those who know it!) of anticipation.

Aconcagua Day Two/Three – 22nd December 2014.

Posted on January 14, 2015 by aquavista

So last night (the first in Argentina) we ended up going for a steak meal with our guides. It would have been rude not to, even if the word ‘Malbec’ hadn’t appeared, which I am very glad to say it did. The steak was everything I’d hoped it to be and more, and the Malbec was stunningly good. I discovered that you can indeed cut Argentinian steak without a knife too – I have the feeling after just one taste that I’ll never eat a steak in my home country ever again.

We are all assembled now, and there are eight clients altogether. There were to be nine, but one dropped out with sickness just before the trip. Everyone had long trips in, although some folks have been here for two days already due to flight schedules etc. There is Peter and Fred (father and son), Kuntal (also my roommate), and John and Gary, all from the U.S, Mohammed from Australia, and Eduardo and me from the UK. Eduardo originally hails from Mozambique.

At last night’s meal we all got to chat, and meet guides Peter (lead guide) and Jonathan from IMG, and Martin (or ‘Tincho as he is known) from Grajales the local guide company who IMG use. Everyone is great and very relaxed. I took my lead from Peter, and ordered ‘bife de chorizo’, which is ‘top loin’ or sirloin strip. It was extremely pink, incredibly tender, and probably as memorable a meal as I have ever had in my life. Sat outside, with local Malbec, the meat the only thing on the plate (no accompaniments could have done it justice, and weren’t missed at all). Fabulous.

Day two then began with a kit inspection for me and Kuntal, and I passed mine thankfully without need to buy anything further. Kuntal wasn’t so lucky, and had to go to the local gear shop in town and part with a wedge of cash to get boots, duffle bags, gaiters and sunglasses for a variety of reasons. It was a great shop though, so he was able to get all he needed in one go. I got a good mooch around too – always good to look around equipment shops as far as I am concerned.

Kit inspection in the hotel – I passed!

A map on the wall of the climbing shop showed the route to Aconcagua – it didn’t mean much as yet…

On the wall of the climbing shop was a map of the mountain. We’d be taking the Guanacos Valley/False Polish Glacier Route up, and the Normal Route down. This way is referred to locally as the ‘360’, as you effectively circumnavigate the whole mountain. The Guanacos Valley is on the right hand (easterly) side of the mountain, and the Normal route is on the west. The ‘false’ Polish Glacier route refers to the fact that you go to the approach of the Polish Glacier (the North Eastern face of the mountain) but then do not actually take the glacier, veering off instead to skirt alongside it, from the highest camp on the mountain, Colera, at 6,000m.

We also had to go through a convoluted process of getting our permits for the mountain. The pass costs 8,088 pesos, which is anywhere between 700 and 1,000 US dollars depending upon where you got your currency from. Thankfully we were tipped off about the currency just in time to get the better rate. There are in fact two rates of exchange in Argentina (for US dollars only I believe). One is the rate the banks give you, which is 8 to the USD. The other is 12 to the USD, which you can get from hotels, shops and the like, or anyone basically in the black market.

Lining up at a kiosk in downtown Mendoza for our Aconcagua passes – bizarre!

And it is just that. Don’t expect to get a receipt, or the money counted out or anything – you just hand over say $1,000 in cash (only) like I did, and someone hands you a bundle of notes with a rubber band round it, and walks off. It takes a bit of a leap of faith, but for a whopping 50% difference in exchange rate, it has to be worth the gamble, and worked perfectly for all of us. This meant that my permit, which has to be paid in cash like seemingly everything in Argentina, worked out at $700. If I’d done things ‘properly’, it would have been over $1,000. Wow.

With permits bought and back at the hotel early afternoon, we could all just rest and begin to sort out kit for the following day. We were required to sort everything into four bags:

1. A duffle for the trek to Base Camp, with sleeping bag, clothes we’d need, snacks and medical/personal stuff etc.
2. A duffle for Base Camp, with everything we didn’t need until the higher mountain, like climbing boots, harness, crampons, ice axe, down jacket, etc.
3. Rucksack, with waterproofs, water bottles, hats, gloves and the like.
4. Anything else we didn’t need on the mountain – Normal clothes etc and other surplus stuff.

Bags 1 and 2 would go by mule, but we wouldn’t see bag 2 until Base Camp itself. We’d carry 3 all the time, and bag 4 will stay in tomorrow night’s destination, a hotel in Penitentes. All this sorting out took some considerable time, and meantime the guides were sorting out food, tents and other provisions that we would also go by mule, but that we would also be required to carry up the mountain ourselves in caches post Base Camp.

Part of the food and kit we’d need to take up to the mountain with us.

Looking at all of the stuff here made you realise just how much planning and preparation goes into these trips.

The extra day was very much worthwhile. It was frustrating in a way not to be on the mountain and on the move, but the rest was needed after the 30 hours of travelling the day before. Time will tell how I’ll feel when underway, but right now I’m very grateful for it.

In the evening we assembled again as a group, minus guides this time, and went out for more steak and Malbec. It would have been rude not to really. Jonathan, one of the guides, told me that he stays down in Mendoza to climb for a month or so post expedition, and eats nothing but steak the whole time. When he goes back to the U.S. he doesn’t eat meat at all, and doesn’t feel the need to. He just waits until he comes back down here again. I’m sure I’ll feel the same way about beef when I get home, but for now I’m just going to enjoy it while I can. The mountain food that we are going to have for the next three weeks will I am sure make us yearn so badly for anything at all that is even normal, let alone exceptional.

Tomorrow, at 9am, the waiting will be over. We’ll be out of here and on our way to Aconcagua. Showtime!

Aconcagua Day One – 20th December 2014

Posted on January 13, 2015 by aquavista

And So it Began……

Saturday afternoon of 20th December came around way too quickly. A complete whirlwind in fact. The last month or so at work has been so hectic that I have hardly had time to draw breath, and so there was barely time to think properly about the trip, let alone get excited. Excited however I should be :- this is the longest trip I’ve been on; to a totally new country for me (Argentina); to the highest mountain in the Southern Hemisphere; to hopefully the highest I have ever been (and may practically ever go), just shy of 7,000m; and to one of the World’s Seven Summits; and my third of these. Oh and I’ll be up the mountain at both Christmas and New Year too. How much more excitement can you get?

Having packed everything into two 100l duffles (yes two), I was ready and away to Heathrow. Both duffles contained everything I would need for the 23 days ahead of me, including my new 90l rucksack. Upon getting to Mendoza, one duffle would stay at the hotel there (we’d stay for one night each end of the trip there to sort stuff out) with anything that wasn’t needed on he mountain. The second duffle would be packed with all of the high mountain gear, and go by mule to Base Camp. Everything else would be on my back in the rucksack for the duration of the trek.

With a fair wind, or should I say not too much wind at all, and a lot of luck, the itinerary will get us to a possible summit bid on the 4th January, exactly two weeks from today.

Meantime it was travel, travel, travel. Just as well I like travelling, as this was the most brutal journey I’ve ever undertaken. From leaving the house at 3pm local time, to getting to Mendoza at a scheduled 6pm local time the next day, this was a 30 hour journey. I’m sure you can probably get to the moon as quickly these days, but so be it. It’s all part of the adventure, and allowed me to (albeit briefly) to touch down in both Brazil and Chile en route. In fact I write this particular piece on a flight from Sao Paolo in Brazil to Santiago in Chile. If I tell you that his was the shortest journey I could get, then you’ll get the picture of how far Mendoza is from Milton Keynes!

One thing I’d say to anyone reading this who might be making this journey in the future (and there are a few of you :)) then I’d say make sure you get yourself a window seat on the plane if you fly into Mendoza via Santiago. The views out of each side appeared breathtaking as the plane flew over the spine of the Andes. I was sadly stuck in the middle of the plane and was frustrated as people had their noses pinned looking out over cloudless skies to the massif below. Lessons learned and all that……

Santiago airport was about a three hour layover following the flight from Brazil, and then it was a hop and a skip (albeit a very bumpy skip, we had a lot of turbulence, and I was told by the German lady sat beside me that it is always like that) back over the Andes to Mendoza. The flight took probably 35 minutes, and again if you are doing this trip get a seat on the left hand side of the plane as you’d see Aconcagua from that side. I didn’t know, and so saw not much of it at all.

When finally at Mendoza airport, I was mightily relieved to see my duffle bags had made it, and I jumped in a cab to the Nutibara Hotel in downtown Mendoza, just about 5 miles away. The door to door journey was 30 hours, and with very little sleep on the plane I was fit to drop when I got in at about 6pm on Sunday evening. I met quickly my roommate, Kuntal, who hadn’t been so lucky with his luggage, and then took a quick walk into town to keep myself awake.

The Hotel Nutibara, Avenue de Mitres, Mendoza

The Hotel Nutibara, Avenue des Mitres, Mendoza

In the evening we met our guides, Peter and Johnathan from IMG, and talked about what to expect over the next few days. I tried to pay attention to the guides but I have to say it was hard as I was so beat.

Tomorrow would be kit sorting day, permit day, and getting ready to trek out. I’d need to sleep very well, and I was ready for just that………

It’s beginning to look a lot like…….Aconcagua Time!

Posted on December 16, 2014 by aquavista

It’s well overdue that I posted here, so am doing so to update on preparations for Aconcagua, which are happening at a pace that I almost cannot even keep up with.

Aconcagua in all her glory.

My trip is a matter of days away now, and I can honestly tell you that I just don’t know if I am ready or not. There are several reasons for this.

One is a bit of a state of anxiety over potential altitude sickness. Having been to around (or close to) 6,000m on three occasions now (Kilimanjaro, Island Peak/Everest Base Camp, and Elbrus), I have had let’s say mixed results with AMS. On Kili I had mild symptoms at around 4,000m. In Nepal I was feeling a bit groggy from 4,000m onwards. In Russia I was fine until the descent, when I began to show symptoms of HACE. The latter was the scariest experience of my life.

Secondly, Aconcagua is a different kettle of fish from the mountains I have done so far. At close to 7,000m and 23,000 feet, it is a quantum leap above the others in many ways. The altitude itself will be hard enough, but add to this the fact that I have to carry more weight than ever before (upwards of 20kg) then this will be an incredible effort. I find 20kg in a suitcase is hard to pick up, let alone carry on my back at altitude. Having read also so many guide companies’ websites and various blogs on the subject, I haven’t heard anyone say anything other than “if you think because you’ve been up Kili you can climb Aconcagua, then think again”, or words to that effect. Final camp in fact is above 20,000 feet, so I have the words “good luck trying to sleep there before summit night” ringing in my ears too.

Finally my training hasn’t probably been all it could be. There is some good, and some not so good here. On the one (good) hand, I’ve been out walking every single weekend since Russia, so that’s nearly four months of doing between 10 and 20 miles each time of usually pretty undulating terrain. And I was as fit as I’ve ever been then, so I don’t think I’ve lost anything. I’ve even been and done the Brecon Beacons twice in that time too. On the other (not so good) hand I’ve really done precious little else. There has been the odd 30/40 mile bike ride, but that’s it. No gym, no squats, no planking, no nothing. I generally believe that there is no experience for anything like doing that particular activity, so we will see.

The only thing I think I am definitely prepared for is with my kit. With one week to go, it is bought, and laid out ready to pack. My kit list, for anyone who is interested, is per the below (so Katherine Thomson if you are reading this, this one is for you, albeit three months late!).

The list is copied from the IMG website, and is exactly as is, because being a conformist, I have already ticked off everything on the list 🙂

[ ]	LARGE size internal frame pack: 80 cu liters plus
[ ]	ice ax (60-70 cm length is the most useful, light is right)
[ ]	collapsible ski poles for the approach
[ ]	crampons (aluminum is OK for this trip)
[ ]	climbing harness (light weight)
[ ]	climbing hard hat is also required
[ ]	1 locking and 2 regular carabiners
[ ]	sleeping bag (down, it’s lighter and more compressible) Should be rated to approx. 0 to minus 10°F.
[ ]	full length foam and/or Thermarest pad or Neo Air
[ ]	double climbing boots
[ ]	regular gaiters, add insulated Supergaiters for extra warmth and/or the Intuition foam liners, which fit most double boots, if you’re looking for a more warmth.
[ ]	light hiking shoes for the approach
[ ]	socks for the hike, normally 3 pair
[ ]	sandals for river wading
[ ]	three sets of wool socks for the climb
[ ]	light hiking shirt. Nylon dries fast
[ ]	hiking shorts and/or pants. Again, nylon is a great choice. Convertible hiking pants work well.
[ ]	climbing pants, like a Schoeller fabric pant or a soft shell pant
[ ]	Gore-tex wind/rain pants with full-length leg zippers
[ ]	Insulated pant with full zippers, like the OR Neoplume or MH Compressor
[ ]	Gore-tex wind and snow shell-type parka
[ ]	medium weight insulated parka with hood (down is light and compressible)
[ ]	polypropylene underwear — 2 zip-neck turtleneck tops and 1 bottom
[ ]	soft shell, fleece, etc.
[ ]	wool or fleece stocking hat with ear flaps
[ ]	neck gaiter or balaclava. Buff’s are great.
[ ]	warm ski gloves
[ ]	lighter weight fleece glove
[ ]	warm, expedition mittens
[ ]	bandana
[ ]	baseball cap
[ ]	sunglasses AND ski goggles
[ ]	suntan lotion (at least #30 protection factor) and lip salve on a neck string
[ ]	2 wide mouth plastic water bottles with insulated covers
[ ]	bowl, cup and spoon
[ ]	good headlamp with 2 sets of batteries (flashlight is not sufficient)
[ ]	camera, batteries, consider a small flash drive to help share photos
[ ]	personal first aid kit to include at least the following: Ciprofloxacin (required) Imodium (required) aspirin antacids moleskin band-aids light weight toilet articles and personal medications iodine crystals or tablets for water purification (these are available at mountaineering stores as a product called ‘Polar Pure’ or ‘Potable Agua’.)
[ ]	small towel
[ ]	a bottle of Purell hand disinfectant. Make sure you bring this.
[ ]	toilet paper – 2 rolls
[ ]	ear plugs
[ ]	5 very large plastic garbage bags such as the Hefty Steel Sacks.
[ ]	pocket knife
[ ]	alarm wrist watch (Splurge and get an altimeter watch from Suunto.)

I did get a bit confused with some of the Americanisms on here though (it is a US company that I am going with). ‘Moleskin’ got me very confused, as did ‘ciprofloxacin’, and ‘climbing hard hat’ just made me smile. I’m there in the end however, and Google was my friend as always.

I have a few items of new kit for this one. New double boots (North Face Verto Extreme), new insulated trousers (Montane Skimo, I believe), some insulated bottle holders that won’t freeze this time :), a collapsible pee bottle (I don’t want to get out of my tent in the middle of the night at 20,000 feet unless I absolutely have to), and some new approach shoes. My old approach shoes (North Face Hedgehogs) have lasted me nearly five years and they have been fantastic – I bet I’ve walked 2,000 miles in them at least. I therefore bought another pair of the same. Oh and the new rucksack – a Lowe Alpine Alpameyo 90L – it is massive! Here is most of it laid out ready to pack:

Most of my stuff laid out ready to pack..

I have had a dry run of getting everything into the rucksack, and it fits, just, at a pinch. How I am going to squeeze extra kit in here as well though is beyond me, so I’m basically in the same clothes for 23 days as far as I can see it. Yes 23 days, and I will be taking deodorant and wet wipes too before you ask, but that’ll be about it.

Oh there is one other thing that I am taking. Diamox. Upon the advice of Adele Pennington (no less) further to my Elbrus experience, she suggested that I take it prophylactically this time, so I am equipped, via an online pharmacy, with a month’s supply. As I said earlier, I’m a conformist 🙂
So the only thing that will tell whether I am ready or not from hereon in is time. By Christmas Day I hope to be approaching Base Camp, and by New Year’s Day close to High Camp. If all goes to plan, I am very lucky with the weather, I don’t get AMS, and I am fit enough, then on the 4th January or thereabouts I may have a chance of summiting the highest mountain in the southern hemisphere. Between now and the trek out, I fly via Brazil and Chile to Mendoza in Argentina, for my biggest and boldest expedition of my life by a long way.

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to all, and see you (I hope, gulp!) on the other side…….

Elbrus Day 12 – Day of Days (Wednesday 27th August 2014)

Posted on September 18, 2014 by aquavista

I am not even sure where to start with this blog post, as it was one of the most memorable days of my life for two extreme reasons, and one ultimately a lot more extreme than the other, which I will explain later. It’s going to be a long one, so if you have insomnia when you start reading this, then this one is for you!

So let’s start at about 12.30am, which is when I, along with the ten other people in our trip woke up, in our converted oil tanker sleeping quarters, along with our two guides Adele and Viktor, in order to begin our third and final attempt to climb Elbrus. We had had two failed attempts from the North Side of the mountain in previous days, and come what may would be leaving on a plane tomorrow to go back to the UK, so this really was it, shit or bust time.

At about 1am we were having breakfast of porridge and the like, and were dressed ready to go all night long as far as we could towards the South Side summit. The weather was cold, but not too windy, and the forecast was for a clear night with 35kph winds, which should enable us to summit if our bodies would carry us that far. We would also be helped (somewhat bizarrely) from our starting point of 3,700m by a snowcat, which would take us to 4,500m or so, a height beyond which we had already acclimatized on the other side of the mountain. We’d paid a collective £500 or so for the snowcat between us, so hopefully the four or so hours that it would save us would be beneficial.

Sat expectantly on the back on the snowcat, 2am.

By 2am we were hurtling upwards on a near-fairground experience sat on the outside of the snowcat, trying not to fall off the back as it thrust us backwards on the steep slopes of the glacier. The light was almost inky black around us, as the expected clear skies did not materialise (and were to stay that way for most of the night in fact). Getting out of the snowcat about 20 minutes later, we were thrust into an incredibly cold and windy existence, where the glow of our headtorches made a mere dent as far as our feet into the spindrift being blown at times violently into our faces. This was a night when any piece of exposed skin would end up with severe windburn if you were lucky, and frostnip if you weren’t.

The night was to be in terms of conditions almost as ferocious as the first night on the North Side. The wind never abated, and when zigzagging into the wind the best tactic was to almost bury your head into the rucksack of the person in front of you by way of shelter, although at times I wasn’t sure if I was heading up or down.

Katherine soldiers on just before the dawn.

Viktor leading our troop, now diminished by three, just before day breaks.

By about 6am after three and a half hours when I wasn’t sure if we were going to make enough progress to even see the top of the mountain (and as this was day 12 and we still hadn’t even seen the summit that would have been a real shame in itself) the first signs of daylight brought at least some perspective on our surroundings. In fact the sight was amazing, an orange corona around the top of the Georgian mountains surrounding us. Ahead of us was the saddle between the two peaks of the mountain, which at least brought some brief solace from the relentless steepness of the rest of the mountain.

The dawn starts to appear and the clouds start to lift too, although the steepness of the mountain hasn’t relented yet.

And then from one moment to the next, from near darkness still….

….daylight appears, although with it a really intense cold wind.

Roxanne heading towards the saddle – the corona we saw is well evident in the background here.

When finally into the saddle at about 5,300m after the break of day, I began to think that I might even make the top of this mountain after all. We had surely battled past the worst of the weather, and now that we could see our path ahead of us there seemed now to be only one obstacle to overcome to actually do this thing, and that obstacle was me.

Just approaching the saddle of Elbrus.

And then into the saddle at about 5,300m, the summit finally in sight in the distance.

It was at this point that I became aware of two things. Firstly we were no longer 11 people, we were down to 8. Dave, Jo and Andy had been beaten back by the winds and the altitude and had headed back down the mountain. I later found out that they had to do so alone, as the guide assigned to them had buggered off without them, but they thankfully made it down to safety in one piece. Secondly, as I was walking behind Hui Ling, her walking became more and more erratic, and I was aware that she was losing a bit of focus, presumably from the effects of AMS. I called for Adele, and she put her onto a short rope to help guide her either up or down depending upon how she reacted. We all then stopped for a drink, which is when I first became aware that I had a little bit of trouble too.

I suddenly realised that after about five hours of intense activity, I had drunk nothing whatsoever. My Camelbak, which I have no idea why I bothered filling in the first place, was frozen solid, insulated tube or no insulated tube. Similarly the top had frozen onto my other water bottle, and my flask of hot water was buried into my rucksack so deep that I didn’t dare take it off my back. I should say that I normally drink about three litres of fluid on a walk of this length even at sea level, and so this didn’t probably bode well, but no matter, I felt fine overall and so climbed on. I did get an energy gel down me and some very frozen chocolate, so that helped a bit.

The stretch after the saddle was really steep, the steepest so far in fact, and took practically all of everyone’s remaining energy away. Following this part there is a fixed rope section, which is probably only 100 or so vertical metres from the top, but is hard going, as it is a steep traverse, and at 5,550m or so, you need all of your faculties to just be able to clip in and clip out, and I knew that mine were now waning somewhat.

The walk to the summit mound from there became a bit hazy for me, and as the weather closed in again, the winds picked up, and it became punishing to try to walk in a straight line. We no longer had views of anything at all, and it became just a grind to walk those extra few steps to get up to that elusive place which had consumed so much of me for so long. As the others all trooped up to the summit I hung back and waited for Adele and Hui Ling, hoping so much that Hui Ling was ok and had made it, and that I could share my summit with Adele too, who after all had done so much for all of us and been such an inspiration. Thankfully after about 10 minutes they appeared out of the clouds, and we walked up the ridge to the summit together.

And then all of a sudden I was there! – Europe’s highest point, a massive moment, and 8 of us plus Viktor and Adele stood proudly at 5,642m in triumph.

And it was the shot we had all been waiting for! From left to right, Viktor, Hui Ling, Steve, Roxanne, Dennis, Katherine, Cormac, Paul and yours trull all celebrate our great achievement.

I managed to get my camera out for the following shot too, taken for me by Cormac – thanks Cormac!

The summit stone at 5,642m - the second of my Seven Summits.

The summit stone at 5,642m – West Peak, Mount Elbrus, 9.30am 27th August 2014.

Oh and here’s one more just for posterity 🙂

There are no words for moments like this.

Now there is a very famous book by one of the most famous climbers of all time called “No Shortcuts to the Top” by Ed Viesturs. His mantra in that book and throughout his climbing career was “getting to the top is optional, getting down is mandatory”, and these thoughts flashed through my mind only a matter of a few metres after beginning the descent. It was then that I realised that the adrenaline that had probably got me up the mountain was now starting to disperse, and that other factors were starting to take over.

Firstly on the steep fixed line traverse, I was finding it very difficult to bend down to clip in and make regular lifting movements with my crampons. Then on the even steeper section down towards the saddle I found that I was struggling to walk at all, and I had to helped (along with Hui Ling) by Adele and Viktor to try downclimb on my hands and knees. Everything all of a sudden became a monumental effort even to poke the front of my crampons into the ice. I knew I had to do it to stop myself falling, but my body became incredibly weak and incredibly tired. I had Adele and Viktor simultaneously shouting at me for my own safety, but I could no longer control properly what I was doing. I had altitude sickness, and it wasn’t good, I knew it.

From there the next half hour or so is all a bit vague, but I can remember walking across the saddle and trying to drink something from Viktor’s flask, and it having no impact on me. I knew I was incredibly thirsty, and incredibly tired at the same time, but I couldn’t overcome either of those feelings at all. I tried to walk but my legs were like jelly, I tried to speak but my words came out like slurred rambles, and I tried to stay awake but my body was just telling me to go to sleep. I recall lying down on the snow, at about 5,500m, and saying that I was going to bed now, as that is all I wanted to do.

From there, all I can say is that I was incredibly lucky. The quick thinking and actions of both Adele and Viktor may well have (almost certainly in fact) saved my life. Adele told me afterwards that upon looking at me, my head was swelling, my eyes were bulging and dilated, and that I showed all the signs of High Altitude Cerebral Edema (“HACE”). HACE http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/High-altitude_cerebral_edema untreated leads to death in 24-48 hours I am told, and I was so lucky to have Adele there (who had once I learned afterwards suffered from HACE herself) and upon recognising those signs, basically carried me with Viktor down about the next 1,000m of the mountain.

I was thereafter (half way down the mountain at about 4,500m) treated quickly with Dexamethasone and Diamox, plus painkillers for what was the most blinding headache I have ever had in my life. It is fair to say that Viktor carried me almost single handedly down that mountain – and for a man about five inches shorter than me, and in his fifties, he is as strong as the average buffalo. Or maybe his adrenaline just kicked in to the effect that he knew he had to get me down to save my life, I don’t know. Either way he is (and they are both are equally) a hero to me, and I can never find ways to thank him or Adele enough for what they did. Sure, it is their job as mountain guides to look after their clients and help them if they are in difficulty, but this is way way over the top and over above the call of duty stuff. This probably had them as scared as I was, and they were just unflappable and kept me calm, safe, and got me out of trouble. There are no words I can find to adequately express my thanks or admiration for how they responded to me.

I could go on from here about how the rest of the day went (it was now still only lunchtime after all), and how we all got down the mountain afterwards and back to Pyatigorsk, but this has been already the longest blog post I have ever written, and it has already said enough. I started it by saying I didn’t quite know where to begin, but I do know where to end:

On a day that I will never forget, the 27th August 2014 is forever etched into my memory.

Congratulations firstly to each of Steve, Hui Ling, Cormac, Paul, Katherine, Dennis and Roxanne for summiting Europe’s highest mountain at the third time of asking. I’m bloody pleased that I made it too. Well done also for the great efforts, camaraderie and friendship to each of Jo, Dave and Andy, who reached different heights and goals of their own the same day.

Moreover, thank you from the bottom of my very being, to Adele Pennington of Jagged Globe, and Viktor (second name unknown) from New Route Guides in Russia. I will say more about you both in a close out post for this incredible adventure, but for saving the life of this humble and eternally grateful soul, I salute you and will be in your debt until the end of my days.

Elbrus Day 11- The trip to the South Side – August 26th

Posted on September 16, 2014 by aquavista

Waking up back in a hotel in Pyatigorsk seemed extremely strange. It would after all have been strange enough on its own without the fact that we all woke up this morning here after having spent 7 or 8 days on the mountain, and as a precursor to heading out for another go at the other side of it. We had also been out last night for a great meal of pizza with beer, such an indulgence after what had seemed endless days of buckwheat and borsht served in a mountain hut. It was almost a strange feeling in fact to actually be able to choose your own food again – amazing how quickly the brain adapts to a set of forced conditions.

So after a breakfast in the hotel’s immaculate (and so out of place) ballroom, it was off to pack again for our new adventure. We would transfer by coach to the ski resort of Terskol on the south side of Elbrus. From there we would get a cable car to a mountain hut, or ‘barrel’, and then we would be taken after midnight by snow cat (i.e. a piste bashing machine) to about 4,500m, from where we would attempt a summit push. It was our only remaining hope of standing atop of Europe’s highest mountain, and if it seemed like somewhat convoluted means, then so be it. That (the summit) was what we had come here for after all, and we had already acclimatised to 4,800m by our own steam on the North Side to be beaten by the winds, so no-one could say that we hadn’t done the whole mountain by our own means, even if it would be now, at least in its totality, in somewhat convoluted steps.

On the bus leaving the hotel to head for Terskol – lots of refreshed and happy faces!

The journey to Terskol was really interesting, and a complete contrast to what we had seen on the North side of the mountain. We passed firstly through a series of Islamic towns, a poorer contrast to the niceties and Mercedes of Pyatigorsk. Then the road headed into a beautiful green valley, with gorges and towering limestone edifices that anything in Yorkshire and Cheddar could only dream about. It was truly stunning.

We then went through a number of what appeared to be military checkpoints, a sobering sign that this part of the world is both very unstable, and also it made us mindful of the fact that we are reasonably close to Ukraine, where of late so many people have lost their lives in the fighting with rebels, in a war that most people, myself included, find bewildering and sad. We were also extremely close to Georgia, scene of rebel fighting for what seems like forever, and so we were advised not to get cameras out. As I am a.) a conformist (most of the time anyway), and b.) I believe in heeding advice when machine guns are in evidence, then “nothing to see here” is all I can say!

It was then that the road started to meander upwards, the altimeter on my watch showing me the progressive increase in height as we passed alongside a river of glacial meltwater. This road was also notable for two other strange things. Firstly there were cows everywhere, but not on the fields, actually walking along the road. This was very odd, and must have an explanation somewhere that I need to pursue at a later date.

Cows on the road for miles on end – bizarre!

Secondly we passed through what was effectively a ghost town – there were factories and disused buildings everywhere, which made it quite eerie. Dennis (or maybe it was VIktor) told us that the town used to be a Molybdenum plant. I wondered if somehow there was a link between the plant and the fact that the cows were no longer in the fields. We even saw one (a cow that is, not a Molybdenum plant) stood in an old disused bus shelter.

Anyway – the road then led us into the foothills of the Caucasus mountains, and all of a sudden there were towering snow capped mountains ahead of us, with glaciers radiating sunlight into the sky. It was stunning. The road then took a steep incline and we were then suddenly into Terskol itself – surely the most ugly ski resort in the world, but our stepping stone to getting up the mountain which towered somewhere unseen in the clouds above us.

In the ski resort of Terskol at 2,400m – not pretty, but functional at least!

Viktor took us to the oldest and most run down cable car station I have ever seen, and after handing over about 500 roubles each to a dark face in a very dark window, we climbed on board the rickety cable car, the 13 of us it’s only inhabitants other than one other passenger.

In the cable car and looking back at Terskol.

The cable car took us to about 3,000m from the base at Terskol of 2,400m, whereupon we climbed on board another similarly rickety and similarly deserted cable car to get us to 3,500m. We were now well into the midst of the various glaciers that crawl down the south side of the mountain. The mountains in the distance provided a beautiful backdrop, even if Elbrus itself was yet to yield anything resembling the slightest hint of attractiveness of any kind.

And moving higher still in the second cable car.

At 3,500m we alighted to find a further and penultimate mode of transport up the mountain. This time a single person chairlift. If I described the cable car as rickety, then this chairlift made it look state of the art. It was almost comedic, the bar on the front not even coming close to securing a passenger on, and the cold metal seats somewhat rusting for the probably 40 or more years that they must have been in service for. Jumping on and crossing fingers, the journey took us a further kilometre it so along and a further 200 vertical metres to 3,700m, to the barrels that awaited us for the evening.

Leaving the cable car and heading to the chairlift…

….and riding up the chairlift towards the barrels – some of the chairlifts had a front bar to sort of half hold you in, others did not!

….and finally arriving at the top station, just glad to have stopped travelling……

…..to our home for the evening – the barrels!

The barrels were converted oil tanks, and had six beds in each. We would get some rest in here before getting up at midnight for the big push. In the meantime it was a case of settling in and preparing kit etc for the evening, although by and large there wasn’t much to prepare, as we had pretty much just carried with us only the stuff that we would need for this evening, and we would therefore be either wearing, or carrying, the lot.

Inside barrel number 6!

Then after a short afternoon where we ate some mo mos and some strange cake that I was rather concerned wasn’t going to stay in my body for very long, followed by a dinner where we had some strange fish dish that I knew wasn’t going to stay around for more than 10 minutes, following which we all retired for a few hours to try to get some sleep.

We have our last mountaintop lunch together…..

….and the other half of us…..

….whilst Viktor and Adele sort out monies to pay to guides, cooks, and snowcat drivers alike.

We couldn’t see anything really of the top of the mountain from where we were, and it all added to the surrealism of our surroundings and made me wonder whether it was all happening at all. The sight of the snow cats and a glimpse of higher slopes through the clouds though made us realise what we were all here for though, and put some focus on things, albeit briefly.

The snowcats – we’d ride in the back of these sometime after midnight to help us on our way a bit.

Everyone was nervous, but we’d all be going for it. Breakfast was set to happen at midnight. The weather looked like it might be clear enough to summit, but the winds were the big unknown. If they held to the predicted 30/35kph, then Elbrus might let us ascend her upper slopes. As we hit our beds for the evening at about 8pm the winds started to pick up, and I could not sleep as I listened fearfully and hoped that this wind would not beat us for the third and final time this week.

It had been a great and really memorable day, but the next one starting at about 1am in just a few hours would determine whether or not I would get to stand on the second (for me) of the Seven summits. It was as pivotal as it could possibly get, and little did I know what a day the next one would be. I was about to come face to face with incredible highs and scary lows, including an too close vision of my own mortality.

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To Kilimanjaro (and beyond?)

"To travel, to experience and learn, that is to live……" {Sherpa Tensing Norgay}