A Trip to El Altar
[Saturday] Sunday, February 25, 2001 [Monday]
At 5 AM the high altitude roosters started crowing. I managed to stay in bed
until 6 AM. After packing a few things I went downstairs for a breakfast of pancitos and scrambled eggs. I'd really like some coffee, but have to settle for some instant coffee.
By 8:00 AM we are all on horses or mules. Most of us are riding mules, a funny sight, as we all look like giants on the small animals. The trail is very muddy. I'm glad to be on a mule, out of the mud. The fact that the mules walk this trail is one of the contributors to it being
so muddy. I don't have to guide my mule, since he knows the way. It's like being on autopilot. The valley drops off on our right, and the clouds hang low, obscuring the tops of the surrounding hills.
My mule had to have a jacket put over his face when I got on him. That wasn't very reassuring to see, but I figured I could handle it. As I left, one of the guides told me the mules name was Turbo.
Part way up the trail I decided to walk. I was tired of riding, and also wanted to take some
photos of wildflowers. When I went to get back on, I found that I was bringing up the rear, and the guide was also ahead of me. It was up to me to get
back on Turbo on my own. The first time I attempted to put the reins back over his head, he backed up fast enough to pull me after him. I walked a bit farther, then calmly turned back and pulled the reins over his head. With my left foot in the stirrup, I started to pull myself up. This caused Turbo to start bucking and jumping. I had one hand on the saddle, and was hopping around trying to get my foot out of the stirrup. I had visions of being dragged back down the hill to the hostel! In the end I did manage to get back in the saddle. A few minutes after that, when I came to a steep downhill section, Turbo ran and bucked down the hill. I managed to hang on, and was beginning to understand why they called him Turbo.
At 10:30 AM we reached the cabins. They were like something out of a fairy tale, with grass thatched roofs. We were at 12,200 feet, but still not out of the clouds. The 17,000 volcano we had come to see was totally hidden by the clouds. When the pack animals came with our gear, some people changed and grabbed foot, and then we began hiking at 12 noon.
The first part of the hike was across a plain that had been covered with boulders, rocks, and mud. Last October a huge piece of rock/glacier fell in the crater lake, causing it to overflow. A wall of water 150
high roared down the valley, killing both livestock and people. It must have been an amazing sight, as it carried mooing cows, trees, rocks, and even people tumbling down the canyon. People who live there said it sounded like loud thunder.
At 2:15 PM we reach the lip of the crater, and can see the lake. It is a brown muddy color, as if it still hasn't settled since October. Here we are at 13,500 feet. Several of the boys and I take off our shirts to take pictures with the snow behind us. I didn't think it was that cold anyway, and was hiking in a t-shirt and light gloves. Others were wearing considerably more. Joel
and Trevor wanted to try to make it to the snow, so I agreed to go with them for another forty-five minutes. We ended up having to turn around because we didn't have enough time, and because it started raining on us. We had managed to reach 14,000 feet before turning back. By the time we got back to where the guide was waiting for us, it was very foggy. We couldn't see more than 100 feet in front of
us. As we descended, it began to clear up.
By the time we arrived back at the cabins, it was 4:30. I had a big blister on my left big toe from hiking in rubber mud boots. After dinner, some card games, and sitting by a fire, I was in bed at 8:15 PM. I was hoping I'd have a good nights rest. I had taken some aspirin for my head, and had been keeping myself well hydrated.
[Saturday] Sunday, February 25, 2001 [Monday]
