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Climb every mountain! Ford every Stream!

August 12, 2009 By Jillian

Heaving as I reached the top of the pass, I was glad the hard part was over. At 4750m (about 15,500 feet) doing anything can be a challenge, let alone hiking uphill.

Resting at Punto Union pass early Friday morning I could hardly believe my eyes. What had taken us less than 24 hours to climb, despite the altitude, had given us the most spectacular views of the Cordillera Blanca. Surounding mountain peaks covered with snow, blue lagoons too icy to even put a toe in, the surrounding wilderness was incredible and well worth the effort of the climb.

But how did I find myself on the top of a very cold (I wore every piece of warm clothing I have with me!), very high mountain Friday morning? After obtaining our very necessary, but only slightly pain in the butt Bolivian visas, we left Lima for a “vacation” from our travel. Busing to the mountain city of Huaraz on Wednesday night, I expected to be mountain biking all weekend. Unfortunately the only place in town that would arrange a decent mountain bike tour wanted $300 per person for three days and well, that was not happening. Since we could not bike the mountains we decided to do the next best thing, and booked a group trek through the moutains. There I was at 4750m Friday before lunch…

Early Thursday morning we piled into a van on a dark street corning in Huaraz. Not yet dawn, we shook hands with the rest of the group and stared out the window. As the van climbed the valley into the mountains, the clay hut villages became fewer and fewer until finally we reached the park entrance. A steep 65 sole ($22) entrance fee later, we were all awake, with our eras popping, as the van climbed slowly up and over the mountains. Arriving at the trail head, we scarfed down a packed lunch and headed down the path with the mules in quick pursuit. Thats right, this was no ordinary backpacking trip- we had the luxury of mules to carry our things, a helper to cook for us, and arrived at camp every night to tents already set up! Now I know some of you are jealous…

Although it sounds plush, and granted not having to actually “backpack” was a luxury, the trek was anything but a walk in the park. Crossing through valleys and small villages on the first day, we saw the snow covered mountains in the distance. Not yet used to my humor, the group stared at me in shock when I jokingly pointed to the highest mountain in sight and proclaimed it to be the pass we would climb through the following day. If only we knew…

Arriving at our first campsite just before dark we were greeted with hot tea, mate (cocoa leaves), instant coffee and cookies. This was really my kind of camping! After dinner of rice and chicken we proclaimed it bedtime and scurried out of the dining tent. Before us however, looming in the dark, were enormous snow covered mountains, which in the moonlight appeared to float in the sky. With the temperature dropping (supposedly it was -5 degrees Celsius), we admired the illusion as long as we could before hopping into our down sleeping bags. (Seriously, the alpaca hat was necessary, don’t laugh!) I slept with four layers on my top, two pairs of pants, the alpaca hat, an alpaca scarf, a pair of hiking socks and a pair of knee high alpaca socks. Trust me, it was cold.

Waking up the next morning, we exchanged cold night miseries and hit the trail. Although the first day was relatively easy, the second day was much more of a challenge. I felt like the Von Trap family, climbing through the Alps to escape the Nazi’s. Ok so no one was chasing us, but believe me it felt like we were going to “climb every mountain.” Hiking 1000m in altitude the first five hours, we summited Punto Union pass around lunch time, collapsing in a heaving pile at the top. As we caught our breath (some of us taking longer than others) we took in the scenery around us. Undoubtably it was what brought all of us on the trek, and as we admired in silence our guide Eric began to play his flute. Like the Andean music sold around the world on busy street corners, the native tunes Eric played symbolized the time and place. Before we could get too sentimental though, he changed to a medly of Beatles tunes and we were off down the mountain.

Settling into our somewhat warmer dinner tent that night, I felt lucky that we had climbed the mountain without serious incident. Cases of altitude sickness are very common on these treks, in fact almost everyone we passed offered cocoa leaves to anyone looking slightly ill. One group of British teens we passed on the way down had two girls suffering from altitude sickness, one of whom our guide thought had high altitude pulmonary edema, a life threatening condition where your lungs fill with fluid. Lacking serious altitude aliments, just a few minor headaches solved with a little tylenol, our group thawed over hot tea, mate and instant coffee before dinner.

With the hard part over, the next morning we took it easy and left camp around 9am. Splintering in three directions, part of our group climbed to a viewpoint overlooking Alpamayo glaciar, while others, either because of the cold or a flight home, headed for a long hike to end the trek early. With no where to be, Danny and I lounged in the sun waiting for the others to come down from Alpamayo. Spotting them at the top of the mountain, at the beginning of their decent, the guide sent us ahead with his nephew. With only one snow capped mountain in site, we easily followed a stream through the valley to our third campsite. On the edge of a small river, the spot was incredible, and again over hot tea and instant coffee we marveled at the landscape with the rest of the group.

Managing our way out of the valley the next day I was sad that the trek was over. Easily feasible in fewer days, I enjoyed our slow pace which for once allowed me to really enjoy the landscape around me. Although Llanganuco to Santa Cruz is the most popular trek from Huaraz the trail was not overly crowded and we were able to really stop, enjoy and soak in the mountains around us. It was freezing at night and the second day it was tough to breathe, but the trek was enjoyable and even shall we say relaxing. Well, for some of us. Wait until you hear Danny’s side of the story…

La Mosquitia- Part II

June 15, 2009 By Jillian

Fortunately years in the outdoors has taught me to always “be prepared”, so after the sea turtle encounter we set off into the jungle with more than enough food, our Steri-pen and what we thought would be enough 100% DEET to kill every mosquito in the area. Feeling like real adventurers for the first time on this trip, we motored up the Rio Platano. Not densely populated, but clearly inhabited, we were often greeted along the river banks with “Hola” and a wave, the children at least seemed excited to see us. As we journeyed further up the river, the shelters spread out significantly and it became clear that we were beyond the reach of the every day Western world. In our motorized dugout canoe we slowly moved upstream for almost five hours before reaching our jungle hospedaje.

Arriving at the hospedaje felt something like a national geographic documentary. As the canoe pulled up to the sandy bank the children ran down the hill to greet us. Quickly settling into our rooms and introducing ourselves to the extended family, we explored the village of Las Marias. Nestled in the jungle, the village is a cluster of about 500 families, many of whom are part of an eco-tourism cooperative. Formed more than a decade ago, the cooperative provides guides and tours of the Rio Platano Biosphere Area for visiting tourists. Organized so that the work is shared amongst the guides and boatmen, a saca guia (head guide) greets incoming tourists and provides an overview of the activities and tours available in the area. We were the only tourists at Las Marias at the time, so chatted with the saca guia and our hosts for a while before deciding on two day jungle hike to Pico Balitmore.

Setting out the next morning, the saca guia picked us up at our hospedaje to introduce us to our guides, Jose and Har. Indigenous men from the area, they showed us the way up Pico Baltimore through deep mud, jungle heat and humidity. Walking and chatting with the guides, we learned about their families, culture and their experience with tourists. Both of our guides had grown up as a part of the eco-tourism cooperative so their perspective on tourism was incredibly interesting. Well aware of the potential negative impacts of tourism, both men felt that the increase in tourism over the last several years had been good for the village and had provided many families with a decent income. Excited not only to be having the conversation in Spanish (thank you spanish teachers in xela!), but that we were in a place where our tourist dollars were making a palpable positive impact in the community I continued to press them on the subject and the impact of tourism development. Las Marias lack running water, electricity and communicates with other villages through two way radio. For the most part Jose and Har wanted basics that were currently unavailable, mainly medical care and a better education for their children. Aware of conveniences of the outside world, not just from tourists but also from family living outside of La Moskitia, Jose replied that they did not need electricity or kitchen appliances, what they needed was a cell phone tower to communicate with each other. Initially I scoffed at the idea that a cell phone town should take precedence over electricity or running water. I later came to realize that this was the true impact of tourism, that they should understand their own needs better. Jose did not want to change their way of life so much that it became like ours, he just wanted to be able to communicate better.

Trekking through the jungle was tough. It was hot, humid and extremely muddy. Although there was a faint path through the foliage, the jungle was dense and more often than not our guides macheted a path for us. I had to keep reminding myself that it was about the journey not the destination. Just before reaching our evening accommodations deep in the jungle, Jose stopped us silently in our tracks. Listening intently to the sounds of the jungle we heard a loud screech. White faced monkeys swung through the trees off to our left, screeching and playing. Reinvigorated, we continued on to the thatch roofed cabana where we promptly collapsed from the heat. Waking a few hours later we found dusk had descended and with it the onslaught of mosquitoes and other unidentifiable large jungle insects. Not to mention the 4 inch scorpion in the cabana….

Cooking dinner on an open fire, we shared our food with the guides, introducing them for the first time to chicken hot dogs. Without buns, veggies or even ketchup (everyone from Chicago is now cringing I know), the guides proclaimed the hot dogs “muy rico” (delicious) and encouraged us to save the rest for the following morning.

Hiking out the next day in a torrential downpour we pulled into the hospedaje wet, exhausted but very happy. Despite scorpions, spiders, and hundreds of mosquito bites it was an incredible cultural experience that I will never forget. As we motored downriver early the follow morning I felt protective over the people on the riverbanks silently hoping that sustainable tourism continues in this region, bringing prosperity without destroying their culture and way of life. Although we’ve been to a number of small communities on this trip, we haven’t been in a community on the edge of sustainable growth like this before. The ability of this community to band together and form a cooperative (with the help of a NGO) and continue to grow in such a way is a great template for other emerging tourist communities throughout the world. I hope as we continue to travel we find more of these unspoiled cultural gems.

Hike and Help, Quetzaltenango, Guatemala

May 15, 2009 By Danny

Recently we paid for and took a hike up the Volcan Santa Maria with Hike & Help here in Xela, Guatemala. A non profit that supports libraries on local communities, we chose to go with them because their guides are actual Guatemaltecos rather than gringos. I have recently begun to dislike the concept of gringo ¨vacationing¨ in a place and in the process taking jobs away from locals. This particular hike took place at night, during the full moon, and so it was a special occasion for all of us.

This was about the point where my good feelings toward our guides ended. While I don´t think groups need to be hand held, there are a few points that I thought should have been discussed before heading up the mountain given that the group had very mixed experience.[ad#final-review-ad]

Meeting at their office at midnight we were quickly on our way to the volcano to begin our hike. Given that we were beginning at 7500 feet and climing to 12,400 – during the night, when it is both dark and cold – I expected there to be some discussion, even in Spanish, on the effects of hypothermia and the importance of regulating your body temerature in addition to telling us the importance of staying together. This never happened.

The hike up was a difficult one and it was not long before some participants began to fall behind. One person even began vomiting shortly after the start of the hike. Quickly we split into two groups, one with the front guide, who was tearing up the mountain at breakneck speed and another group with the enfirmed.

Generally the pattern was to hike with him very quickly, work up a sweat, then sit in the cold for 20 minutes allowing the sweat to cause shivers while the slower portion of the group caught up. Walking slowly, in the middle became our best option as we could take more frequent breaks for less time but then we were alone, in the dark, in a stange country…why did we hire the guide? Additionally, the fact the group was almost never together and the majority of the hikers had no hope in keeping pace with the first guide meant that had we encountered more trouble it would have been a much longer time before help would have arrived as the guides would not have known. This breackneck pace was repeated on the way down only without a single opportunity to rest our exhausted, trembling legs.

I do not belive these guides were malicious but rather that they are not actually qualified guides. I write this as someone who has wilderness first aid training in addition to having led many groups on hikes and other adventures. I do not belive these guides, themselves, have had any training in wilderness first aid, hypothermia, group safety, or anything other training a paid wilderness guide should have. Luckily there were no repercussions this time but it really is only a matter of time before something serious does happen.

In the end, I do not recommend using Hike and Help as an outfitter when in Quetzaltenango, Guatemala.

Climb every mountain! Ford every Stream!

La Mosquitia- Part II

Hike and Help, Quetzaltenango, Guatemala

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