Huayna Potosi

Just got back into La Paz this afternoon after one of the most contrasting experiences yet. Summitting the 6088m high peak of Huayna Potosi (whiner potoh-see).

We left La Paz yesterday morning under the impression that as far as getting to the top of a 6000m mountain, HP was probably one of the easiest, we just wanted to cross the 6000m mark off the 'to do' list for ones life. We had been told by the tour organiser that it was a two day trek, with day two commencing at 1am with a 7 hour hike to see the summit shortly after sunrise before the sun softened the ice and made climbing dangerous. But that seemed okay so we signed up.

With our two guides and one other climber we arrived at the foot of the mountain (approx 3500m) and immediatley questioned that advice that it was a simple climb. Two jagged peaks with awfully steep sides didn't bring back memories of walking up Mt Ainslie or Mt Cootha.

Day one was a 2 hour clamber through very rocky and unstable terrain up about 900m to the campsite for the night. The altitude was already causing troubles at this early stage as the climb up was not without frequent breath catching stops, but even more interesting was when we were lying in the tent a moment of not concentrating on taking deep breaths would find us gasping for air. Dinner at 5pm and we were supposed to sleep until 11:30pm when we would wake up for a quick brekkie and be on our way at the revised time of midnight. With six layers of clothing on my upper body 3 on my lower plus various additional extremity warmers, plus a sleeping bag, I went to bed feeling quite warm. The problems began when after 2 hours of trying to sleep Lucas asks if anyone else had fallen asleep at all, nope. It wasn't until around 10:00 that Lucas and our french mate fell asleep, while I continued to lay awake pondering many a thing. It was at about 11:30 when Lucas and everyone got up that I suddenly had solved all the worlds problems and was drifitng off to sleep. So I fought the urges to get up by claiming I was already dressed and didn't feel like breakfast anyway (a slight urge to throw up and a headache from my previous mind expanding contemplations meant I didn't really feel like eating anyway - probably not a good start to a 7 hour hike up nearly 2000m through snow and ice). But we soon got moving with crampons (sharp ice climbing shoes), ice picks, harnesses and torches, the fresh icy air making me feel a lot better.

The Climb....

We were aware of one section of the climb that was noted as 'mas dificil' - more difficult. Basically just a 40m section of nearly vertical ice that we had to get up before reaching the final ridge across and up the peak. It took us about 2 hours of moving at a fairly steady speed to reach this section and apart from the odd bout of breathlessness the altitude hadn' hampered the climb at all. But....as soon as we got to the top of this difficult section we found it almost impossible to walk more than 20m on flat ground - let alone steep snow - without collapsing in a gasping heap and nearly passing out, in fact the lack of sleep was just starting to kick in and every time we fell the ground gasping for air the desire to sleep was very powerful - this could also have been due to the well below zero temperatures.

After many stops and starts due to dying feeling we were both experiencing the thought crossed our minds to pull out as every step was agony on the lungs and the legs felt like they had run out of petrol (a cliche but an accurate one). But this was before we had even been faced with the final climb to the peak - a 250 metre near vertical ascent that we had not been forewarned of. But every time we collasped to the ice in the belief that was our last step on the mountain we could pull ourselves up and stagger another 10 steps up the mountain, so when faced with this final task to reach the peak we decided that even if it took us all week we would get there.

After close to an hour it felt like we hadn't moved 20 metres. The legs were barely in use by this stage and we were hanging onto our ice picks embedded in the slope and slowly hauling ourselves towards the peak, each time we passed out - by this stage we were immediately sleeping (I think I was sleeping because I was having dreams, there may be another definition of what was happening) for two or three minutes between further attempts to edge our way up. By the time we were two thirds of the way up this final stage the eastern sky was starting to turn pink and we really wanted to be at the peak for sunrise. So now instead of sleeping as I rested I turned my head towards the sunrise to remind myself to keep moving and not drift off again. As I saw the final 10 metres in front of me I held my breath and charged up throwing myself on the top, lying still for the next ten minutes as the sky went orange and red and slowly lit up the Andean range that we were looking down upon. The sight from that peak was one of the most beautiful I have seen so far - on one side was a raging electrical storm, on another was Andean peaks rising above the clouds, to the right was lake Titicaca and towards the left the dying nightime lights of the wonderous city of La Paz - all viewed from our pristine white throne at the top of it all.