Travel day, Northern Chile to Buenos Aires

This is part 10 of a 31-part posting of my journal entries and photos from one of the greatest experiences of my life so far--a month-long mountain climbing trip to the Atacama Desert area of northern Chile and Argentina, which included summiting three 6000 meter peaks (~20,000 feet).  To view all the entries in this series, check the posts labeled South America.

Downtown Buenos Aires at dusk, looking SW from the coast

Day 10 – Thursday 14 January 2010

I fell asleep quickly and slept like a rock until 4:35AM when I woke up and began thinking about the trip. The leg of flights I’m taking today and tomorrow is convoluted and long, yet it just takes me to the other side of the same mountain.  In retrospect it seems stupid and wasteful.  At the time I couldn't figure out a better way.

Here's the situation:  I had spent the past several days based at Paso San Francisco.  The expedition I was now joining would spend its first night camping at Cazadero Grande less than 50 miles down the same highway.  I left Paso San Francisco Wednesday morning, and the expedition's first night of camping would be the coming Monday night.

I could have walked there.  Ten miles a day.  Well, except for the fact that I had tons of luggage.  But what I did was drive, ride, and fly 2,300 miles!!!!! Twenty-three-hundred miles.

Today's itinerary covered most of those miles.  I would drive my Rental car to the Copiapó airport, take a domestic flight from Copiapó airport to Santiago airport, then an international flight from Santiago to Cordoba airport in Argentina, then finally a domestic flight from Cordoba to Buenos Aires domestic airport (different from their international airport).  Tomorrow I would fly from Buenos Aires to Catamarca where I'd meet my expedition leader John Biggar.

John is very familiar with and very well connected in this high desert area of northern Chile and Argentina.  He's run expeditions here every year for decades.  If I had only thought to ask him about connections I'm sure he could have made one.  Even on my own, at the last minute, as I checked out of my hotel this morning, I learned that a private auto transport service based right outside my motel could have driven me to Catamarca for $140.  But I had a flight package booked, and cancelling one leg of it is not possible. If you do not physically show up in your seat on the plane, all the remaining flights on the rest of the reservation are automatically canceled -- all the way back to the US.

After learning that, and after mentally kicking myself around the lobby a few times, I checked out of the hotel at 7:25 and hit the airport by 7:45. It was a little nerve wracking there because nothing was open at first, then when the airline counter opened five minutes later, they said I had to pay extra for luggage that was overweight. Then they had trouble with their system taking my payment. Meanwhile I asked at the information counter and found that the rental car desk wouldn’t open until 8:30 and that’s when my flight would begin boarding.

Well, it all worked out even though the rental car booth actually opened at 8:35. By then I had paid the extra luggage charge successfully. I went through security and boarded in plenty of time, though I was among the last couple dozen people to board.

The flight was a quick easy hour to Santiago and I had a window seat facing east toward the Andes mountains.  I got plenty of great views of those majestic peaks, including Aconcagua, the highest mountain outside the Himalayas, and just 222 feet higher than Ojos del Salado, the second highest, and the one my expedition was here to climb.

22,837' Aconcagua as seen from the Chile side (looking east)

At Santiago I had four hours layover. I waited at the baggage check to be sure my baggage wasn’t there, as promised. It was supposed to go straight through to Cordoba, Argentina where I’d have to pick it up and take it through customs.  I wandered around the airport and found a Ruby Tuesday restaurant where they have wifi access if you buy something. I arrived there before my departure gate was assigned, but in the huge terminal it turned out that my gate was directly across from where I was sitting!

I had a huge lunch and surfed the internet until boarding began at 2PM, then packed up and boarded the flight to Cordoba, Argentina. It was a quick eventless flight over the Andes and then across some interesting rugged bare rock and grass terrain west of Cordoba, a small city that is known to me only as the home of professional golfer Angel Cabrera. It’s pretty and green, at least now.

The Cordoba airport is fairly small and quiet for an international airport, but very modern. I had a three hour layover and so after going through immigration and customs, with my baggage securely in hand (yay!) I killed the time in a spacious coffee shop that fills a quarter of the floor space of the departure floor, yet they sell only a few basic items. There was internet available to buy, and there was an on-line credit card option to buy, but it asked for an ID number (like a personal identification number? - inscrutable to me) so I couldn’t buy it (I thought). My computer was running out of batteries anyhow, so I just caught up on my personal journal and then got off the laptop at 5:15 and waited for the earliest possible time to check in my baggage, promised to be at 5:30.

It was more like 5:45 when I checked my bags then went through the deserted security area--I was the only one in sight. Security is much simpler and more relaxed here in South America. I found my gate and had an hour to wait and found an outlet and also decided to give buying internet service one more chance. I used my passport number and it worked! I had only half an hour to surf, but should also be able to use the same service in Buenos Aires.

I bought an Argentinean Stout beer in a bottle near my gate and browsed and posted on Facebook to 6:55 then got ready to board. Again I boarded late, and this time the overhead bins were full. I had to stow my bag 16 rows further back than my seat.

The short flight was enjoyable because of the geography lesson. It’s as flat as SW Kansas between Cordoba and the coast. But it’s greener and probably more tropical.  Approaching Buenos Aires I got a view across the big river and wetland to Uruguay. Then the plane made a big turn over the Atlantic and I got a great view of the center of Buenos Aires as we landed right after sunset. The best of the photos I shot headlines this post.

We landed at 8:30. I’d decided to just stay and ‘camp’ in the airport for the night and save the hassle and expense of taxi, check in, short sleep, taxi, return by 8:30 or 9AM for a 10:40 flight. The cheap hotel I made a reservation for might not have internet, but I wouldn’t have as much time to use it anyhow. Plus I took the time to buy a small dinner in this big airport’s nice food court. A small section by the window across from the food court has a special raised floor (for concerts?) where there were abundant outlets and tables and chairs set up for food court customers. I camped there with my cart full of luggage and got on the internet and used up the rest of the two hours I bought for about $6 US back in Cordoba. That was done right about midnight.  By then I was feeling pretty drowsy. I put my head down on the table and tried to sleep.

Driving back to sea level in Northern Chile

This is part 9 of a 31-part posting of my journal entries and photos from one of the greatest experiences of my life so far--a month-long mountain climbing trip to the Atacama Desert area of northern Chile and Argentina, which included summiting three 6000 meter peaks (~20,000 feet).  To view all the entries in this series, check the posts labeled South America.

I started this morning at 15,600 feet elevation and was back at the Pacific Ocean, English Bay, by mid-afternoon. to spend one last night at the sea-side Rocas de Bahia hotel.

Day 9 - Wednesday 13 January 2010

I didn’t fall asleep for a very long time, despite being physically tired. It must be the caffeine deliberately included in the Gu energy gel. In any case I got decent rest. At 10:10PM I noted that the wind had mostly calmed down, and it remained fairly light, though never fully stopping, the rest of the night. The air seemed more humid tonight, though, because condensation formed on my interior windows even when I opened up more windows for ventilation.  (Note: this turned out to be an omen of changes to come--some very unusual weather for the dry season in this driest of deserts.  Future entries will explain further.)

I got up and went outside just to stretch at 11:45 then began to get a bit of decent sleep. I woke up at about 4AM and began to watch the eastern sky. Amazingly, with the sun still 30 degrees below the horizon, there was detectable glow beginning--noticed by comparing with the horizon in other directions. I continued to watch and relax, waiting to see the final moon rise of this cycle, with the new moon tomorrow. The sliver moon finally rose at 6:07. I turned on the car to start it warming up and then did a few chores and rearranging the mess in the car.

I left my 'campsite' of the last three nights at 6:37AM and started heading back to Copiapó. It was 1.1 km just to get from my parking area to the highway at the pass--round trip of a mile and a half avoided with each hike! The sun rose on the high peaks at 6:50. The drive was uneventful and I only took one short pause at a salt flat near the border check point to photograph this cute pyramid mountain sticking up out of a salt flat in the middle of nowhere.

I arrived in Copiapó at about 11:20 with the gas gauge still touching the half-full mark. So the trip down took well under 3/8 of a tank! In my angst about having enough gas, I didn’t consider that it would take much less gas to descend 15,000 feet than it would to ascend.

I bought gas as I was making the turns necessary to get to the Jumbo store--bought only 10 liters, which will be more than enough to get me to the airport with much more gas than it had when I picked up the car. I then shopped at the Jumbo store at 11:45AM. It’s a general store, not just a grocery store, so although the food selection was great, it’s not comparable in size to things in the US. The relative amount of space devoted to fresh foods and non-prepared stuff was huge compared to in the US.

I bought most of what I needed plus two beers to add to my Chile beer bottle collection. They didn’t have anything good to buy as souvenirs. I then hit the road, passed through Copiapó, and stopped at a big new modern interchange south of the city, where I parked on a side road off the frontage road and drank the beers while they were still cold. The much cheaper one, a black lager, was better. The other seemed more of a collector’s item, much more expensive, and brewed in Punta Arenas, as far south as you can get before hitting Antarctica.

I then headed on down to Bahia Inglesia, stopping to take some photos of a typical highway-side memorial--amazingly elaborate--on the road to Bahia Inglesia right near the intersection with the main highway.  Memorials like this are common, scattered all along otherwise desolate stretches of highway.

I got to the hotel at 2:20 and checked in quickly. The room I have this time is the one between the two I had before. It’s bigger and nicer than both. It also has the advantage of being able to drive practically up to the door, so I was able to empty the mess in the car with little hassle. Then I put on sunscreen and walked the beach front walk and took pictures and looked for souvenirs and gifts.

… nothing of much interest. Really, this is a very small resort town so the shops are quite limited. I returned to my room and ate one of the three canned herring specialty meat items I bought at Jumbo--super good! I also drank some of the apple juice I bought--first tried on the LAN flight, I find Chilean apple juice to be more like cider and really super delicious compared to the clear brown American version.

I got out my laptop and found a decent wifi signal at the pool beside the restaurant so I got an outside table by the pool where there was an outlet. I hit about a dozen pages before it seemed to stall out completely. I managed to check my main emails and the CNN news page with news of a huge earthquake in Haiti. Otherwise I used the stall time to catch up on journal writing. The internet was still stalled, soI gave up and went back to my room for a while. (It was getting chilly outside in the shade by the pool anyhow). I ate another of the three herring tins--this was the biggest--smoked herring swimming in lots of vegetable oil. That seemed to assuage my craving for protein and fat. Then I took a shower and shaved. It was good to get rid of the stubble, but otherwise I didn’t really notice any difference being clean.

Anyhow, I was out of the shower at 5:45 then I drank lots more of that apple juice (should have bought even more) and got back to the laptop and downloaded and processed the photos taken today. I finished all the liter box of apple juice while transferring all the images not yet posted on Facebook to my flash drive. If I can’t get to the internet with my laptop I’ll use the computer in the lobby. I ate a bit of the salami I bought--plastic skin that won’t come off without taking half the meat--and then decided to try the internet. It was putting stuff through pretty well, and with some patience I managed to upload all the photos! It wasn’t until 9PM that I got all the pics uploaded (about 40 of them) and captions written.

Now it was time to pack.  I took a break and went out to the local store and bought a bottle of water--guess I'm more dehydrated than I realized.  I finished packing and ate a bit more of the greasy salami then went to bed at 11:20PM.

Summit! 6020m Cerro San Francisco

This is part 8 of a 31-part posting of my journal entries and photos from one of the greatest experiences of my life so far--a month-long mountain climbing trip to the Atacama Desert area of northern Chile and Argentina, which included summiting three 6000 meter peaks (~20,000 feet).  To view all the entries in this series, check the posts labeled South America.

Cerro San Francisco on the Chile-Argentina border, with the trail to the summit annotated.  My car was at 15,600 feet, the Tabletop Cairn is at 17,000 feet and the summit is just shy of 20,000 feet.

Day 8 - Tuesday 12 January 2010

I fell asleep after a while, probably before 11PM and then slept very well all through the rest of the night. Abruptly at 5:10AM I was awakened by the sound and headlamps of about 20 people tromping by on the way to climb San Francisco peak. One of the last of them came over to check me out. He spoke only Spanish and didn’t seem anything more than curious about me. I told him I had an Aventurismo permit. These climbers slept in their vehicles last night.  It's good to have that group on the mountain today to act as some possible emergency support for me. It was still pitch dark outside when these people came by. It’s also good to know what time a (I assume) competent climbing expedition starts out to climb that mountain.

The wind had kept blowing well into the night and only gradually let up as the night wore on. But it was wonderful to note that it had let up, and was close to calm this morning. I suppose the fact of that expedition going up means that weather is not an obvious problem today. The temperature was 24 degrees when I got up at 5:20 and turned on the car and went out to take a pee. The sliver of a moon rose at 5:15, and by 5:30 there was a bit of glow beginning to appear on the horizon below it. I sat in the car in my sleeping bag while it warmed up inside, then got on the laptop and caught up on my journal while I ate some Oreo cookies.

At 6AM I gradually started preparing for my own expedition, to start when there was enough light to not need my headlamp. My preparations went slower than I wanted, so it was already very bright out when I was ready to go. Just then a truck drove up and parked near me and two Swiss guys who spoke no English got out. I spoke with them briefly, asking the elevation of the peak (they had a map). It is only 6020 meters high. I told them I’d probably go up to 5500 meters and turn around.

I headed up the trail five or ten minutes ahead of them and they never caught up. I was feeling good and just kept going with few stops. Felt much better than yesterday as I passed my 17,000 foot cairn.

To my amazement, I had by then already passed the 20 or so Argentineans who were ascending the ridge on which the cairn sits, but they were attacking it farther north where it’s steeper and higher.

I continued up the daunting looking traverse of the main massif of the peak. It wasn’t as scary as I had thought it might be. Stupidly I kept pushing forward watching the sun chase me. And I was feeling good and strong, but when the sun finally caught up with me I stopped to take a photo, and my hands were so numb I could barely push the button on the camera.

It was at the moment of taking that picture that I suddenly realized how chilled to the core I was. I put on more clothes even though I was now in the sun. But that was a significant lesson. When I get chilled like that I often get a cold almost immediately. The amazing thing was that I knew my hands were cold but I didn’t have a clue that my whole body was seriously chilled also. Perhaps it’s something to do with altitude and perhaps with just too much focus (obsessive attitude) and lack of experience. I learned a lesson, and it may come at a big cost if I get a cold and can’t recover enough to get to 20,000 feet with the Andes expedition. (Note: I never did get a cold!)

I was stopping regularly to eat Gu and to drink water. I’m pretty sure the Gu helped me maintain my stamina. I also felt that my long workouts on the treadmill back home helped a lot, as I got into a steady mode of moving forward and upward while breathing steadily but heavily. As I traversed the picturesque massif trail (easily visible from the highway) I noticed the Argentineans descending that ridge (the descent for me was only 200 feet - the part of the route not visible on the overview photo up top) and I also noticed that the two Swiss guys had passed them.

Shortly after that the trail turned the corner and entered what had looked like the scariest part of the climb when viewed from the highway. By then I had reached 18,000 feet but that no longer mattered. I was so strong and fast (and now warmed up) that I had already decided to try for the summit.

Anyhow, the scary looking section wasn’t bad at all, and it led up beside a frozen stream that came down off a flatter section with the first snow fields. On I trekked, stopping for Gu and water every 45 minutes and feeling good. I was presented with a decision to go right or left where the trail was unclear and there were two high peaks. Eventually I spotted a trail up the right one and nothing on the left one.

It was the right choice. I got to the summit flat at about noon--already a little late by mountaineering standards, knowing that I’d have to contend with rapidly worsening wind on the way down. But I lingered on the summit plateau for half an hour, visiting each of the three rises that could be the true summit and taking pictures. Eventually I found a “Bank of Chile” strongbox with the climber’s registry (Libro de Cumbre, meaning book of the summit) in it, dating back to 2004 and only containing a handful of pages of entries. The last entry was January 6th. I took a photo of the front page as well as of the last two pages, including my entry:

I wrote an entry, took a selfie …

… and photographed the views from each of the three summits. I was flabbergasted to see a big black ordinary cricket jumping around up there at almost 20,000 feet. Was he lost? Amazing! Then I headed back down passing a spiky low snow field with a view eastward into the lowlands of Argentia, where the tropical moisture was making clouds.

I met the Swiss guys right where I faced the decision between the two peaks and pointed the way to them. On down I met the Argentinean group still trudging up beside the frozen stream just above the traverse. They still seemed intent on getting to the top despite it being so late in the day.

By then the wind was already pretty intense. I descended the traverse warily, thinking it might be worse on the way down, and knowing that if I lost balance I could slide for a ways (maybe). In fact I did have a couple minor trips but only would have fallen forward onto the trail. The 200 foot ascent at the 17,000 foot ridge was a big ordeal, then at my cairn the wind really blasted. I switched from my glacier glasses to my ski goggles and bundled everything up tightly and headed on down.

Eventually I got too warm at the lower elevations. I got to the car at 3:20 and changed and set up shade in the car and started to rehydrate and eat. I drank two full liters of water before feeling fully restored to hydration. Plus I had drunk all of the 1.5 liters I took with me. I checked my blister and found no further harm done--in fact no change at all--wonderful!

It took me a full hour before I felt ‘human’ again. And just at that time the two Swiss guys returned. They kept to themselves at their truck--I doubt if they could have reached the summit and returned, but I suppose if they are fast at descending they could have. They did drive by and say good-bye when they left, saying they were going to the hot springs at Laguna Verde (I really ought to do that too, but have decided to skip that experience since it would only be to show people back home--don’t have any desire to do it just for the experience -- it's just sitting in hot water.)

I looked at the pics on my camera and ate some more, including the other bag of spaghetti sauce, and I drank more water. It’s very possible I’ll run out of water before getting to Copiapó tomorrow, but since I’m now so worn out and won’t do any hiking tomorrow before I leave, I should be close to Copiapó before running out. At 4:50 I reclined my seat and rested. That’s when the Swiss guys actually left. And that’s when I began to feel the oddness in my throat that might presage a cold.

At 5PM while I was resting, I noticed clouds blocking the sun at my car and also over the San Francisco mountain: A cloud street as it is called stretched from the mountains to the west--first clouds overhead on this entire visit. And the wind was howling. One gust really rocked my car as a cloud came over. That was worse than any previous one. And there was no sign of the 20 Argentineans. I was beginning to worry. I also had to close my car windows to keep the temperature inside from getting too chilly. The clouds continued for the next hour.

At 5:55 I noticed the Argentinean party beginning to trickle over the top of the 17,000 foot ridge well to the north of even their route this morning. I’m guessing that they aren’t a very professionally run expedition, but it looks like they all got down safely. They trickled by my car between 6:30 and 7PM, taking a more direct route to their vehicles. One or two did pass by my car on the actual jeep road but didn’t stop to talk.

I started journal and photo processing work at about 6PM.  I stitched together a sweeping panorama taken right at the top of the ‘scary part’ right after I met the Argentineans--much better views there than from the summits.

I got off the laptop at 7:20, ate some Skittles for the citric acid to possibly help my throat then I went through my travel essential papers to confirm that our base camp at Ojos del Salado will be at 18,000 feet as I recalled--yes it will. When I finished with the paper organizing I looked out and noticed all the Argentinean vehicles had gone! End of that saga. I then read Tolkien until I got too tired to continue. I tucked myself in to my sleeping bag and went to bed early, at 8:00PM.

Leaving my mark at 17,000 feet - hiking in Chile

This is part 7 of a 31-part posting of my journal entries and photos from one of the greatest experiences of my life so far--a month-long mountain climbing trip to the Atacama Desert area of northern Chile and Argentina, which included summiting three 6000 meter peaks (~20,000 feet).  To view all the entries in this series, check the posts labeled South America.

 

Spent a couple hours building this 'tabletop' cairn out of a rather ordinary and broken-down original one at 17,000 feet on the trail up to Cerro San Francisco.  The view is looking westward to Laguna Verde.  The backpack is my trusty 1971 REI daypack, the one that later took me 4368.4 miles along the Appalachian Trail on my double thru-hike in 2012.

Day 7 - Monday 11 January 2010

Well, tonight was more what I expected from a cold night trying to sleep in a reclined car seat. Probably because of a lack of much hard exercise yesterday and a couple of decent naps during the midday and afternoon, I wasn’t all that sleepy, so I shifted and turned a lot. I got up a couple times and went outside just to “cool off” and to get a change of pace from the restlessness. After 11PM or so I must have gotten some intermittent periods of sleep, probably more than it felt like. But the next time I got up and got out of my sleeping bag just for a ‘change of pace’ was at 2:40AM

That time I stayed up and ate four Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups. This last package (brought all the way from Maryland) was a bit of a mess, having been melted a lot. Through the night I had noticed that hollow feeling of hunger, which can cause poor sleep. It’s possible that my limited selection of food led me not to eat as much as I should yesterday. I have cravings for things like canned meats that the store in Caldera didn’t have. I should have taken the time to shop at Jumbo in Copiapó, but I was too frustrated with the ‘effectivo’ hassle (getting Chilean cash - I love that Spanish word for cash), and already way behind my desired schedule, so I wasn’t in the mood to appreciate that fantastic store. I hope I’ll have a chance to stop there on the way through on Wednesday.

In any case, it seems that the Reeses made a difference, despite having caffeine and sugar. I slept more fully, though still not that restfully, after that. Outside the wind had never fully let up: It was very light, but steady. And as a result, the temperature had bottomed out at 31 degrees and it never got lower than that. I got some decent sleep, waking up to notice the moon had risen, but not checking the time. Then I started stirring as the horizon began to develop light.

I actually got up and turned on the car at 6:20AM. I started up the laptop a few minutes later and let it warm up for a few minutes. Then I caught up on journal writing. The sun rose at 6:30 on the highest peaks and on those north of me not obstructed by any further eastward high mountains. I ate the last three Reeses and water for breakfast. I’m wondering whether it was colder and got calm down where I camped the night before or whether a change in the weather pattern is to blame for the difference between the 14 degree temperature down there last night and the 31 that it reached here. I suspect the latter.

After eating I clipped my cuticles--a never ending battle with little sore spots around the sides and bases of the nails, especially when I’m not keeping clean. The sun hit the border markers at the pass on the highway at 7:15 and hit me at 7:35. I read Tolkien from then until 8:10, and did various chores after that, preparing and organizing and assessing gear. I checked my blister and found that the fluid had diminished though the skin had not broken. That's a great sign--it's healing easily.

Outside the wind was a bit annoying, basically unmet expectations for a calm break in the morning. It really wasn’t blowing hard, but it made the morning chill quite uncomfortable.  I dressed and put on sun screen and got on all my selected gear and packed plenty more and started up the trail at 8:22AM with modest breezes and warming temperatures. This was the lower part of the trail up to Cerro San Francisco.  The lower portion of it is a rough jeep road.  Farther up it becomes a very visible track sloping up the side of the mountain.

I quickly found that my choice of layers was correct for the conditions. I trudged up and up to where the jeep trail ended at a cairn at the base of a steeper talus field. The route from there was not clear, but no other way except straight up that slope seemed logical.

When I got to the top, breathing hard, I was at 17,000 feet and it was 8:45AM. There was a cairn there marking the trail onward across a saddle to another cairn where the slope seemed to drop off. But I rested at the first cairn and caught my breath then decided to linger there and 'play'.  I set to work upgrading the cairn, just for fun.

At first the work was really hard, because of the altitude, but soon I got into the effort and it was no harder than the work I’d done ascending the slope to that point. I definitely felt so much better today at 17,000 feet than I did two days ago. I actually felt energetic after the cairn building. My blister wasn’t troubling me, though I could feel the rubbing. After I set the ‘tabletop’ in place, made out of a huge flat rock 2.5 feet across on all sides but only an inch and a half thick, I took some photos (see the photo headlining this post).

I left everything but my water bottle there, and wandered over to the other cairn. I was disappointed there to see a big drop before the trail started its clear diagonal trace up the huge impressive slope of the main San Francisco peak. That drop was at least 200 or 300 feet and could be more. But if I want to hit 18,000 feet tomorrow I’ll have to descend first to do it. I climbed a little peak closer to the pass to survey other possible options -- there were none. Then I headed back down to my car, making good time and having nothing to report other than the fact that the wind was now picking up. Here's what the car looked like from a vantage point on the jeep trail on the way back.  The Chile-Argentina border markers are at the far right, and the highway is visible running from there roughly horizontally across the scene.

I got back to the car with a steady wind blowing at 12:15 and nestled into the car and changed and set up sun shading and checked, cleaned and tended my blister. The skin had broken but the foot wasn’t sore to the touch or red. I put on more Neosporin and a fresh bandage to help it heal until I abuse it again tomorrow morning.

I got out my camera and looked over the new photos.  Though it might sound surprising, I was enjoying this solo camping out of a compact car. I finished the last of the second water jug and calculated that I'm using a 5 liter jug every 1.5 days. So I should be fine tomorrow, but may not have enough water to do a little training hike on Wednesday morning before I leave. I actually considered leaving for Copiapó right after my major hike tomorrow, but quickly thought the better of it because I want to have the extra night at altitude for acclimatization.

I got on the laptop at 1:40 and started catching up on my journal as the usual afternoon wind whipped around outside and as I sat in a little cocoon of shade made by putting up shirts and jackets over the windshield and the driver’s side window. Writing work was done at 2:20 then I downloaded the new photos and processed them. I got off the laptop at 2:40PM and tended to some chores and made myself some milk and Ovaltine.

I had developed a headache of a familiar kind while on the laptop--not related to altitude. It is the kind that develops when I’m over-tired but refuse to rest or even slow down until I’ve finished the task at hand. Probably the squinting and concentrating at the laptop screen added to the problem. But by the time I was off the laptop it was a significant factor in how I felt. I drank most of the Ovaltine and rearranged things a bit in the car then finally just reclined the seat and relaxed. And the headache vanished almost immediately! Why I put myself into that obsessive mode, without even being aware that I’m headed into it, I do not know.

I rested and got some sleep from 3:20 to 4:45 then got up feeling refreshed. The wind was howling--almost as bad as two days ago and definitely worse than yesterday. I started reading Tolkien at 4:45 and read until 6:35 when I took a break and went outside. I noticed eight vehicles parked parallel to each other out at the highway on the Argentina side at the pass. As it turns out they were a large hiking group here to attempt to summit San Francisco Peak tomorrow (see tomorrow's entry).

At the same time I just happened to notice a lizard on a rock right near the car--a little mini komodo dragon about 6 to 8 inches long.  It's amazing to me that anything can eke a living here in this hopelessly barren place:

I read Tolkien at 7PM. I read to 7:30, ate some good Chilean cheese crackers to 8:00, and read until light faded at 9PM. When the sun set on my car at 8:20 I got in my sleeping bag and put on mittens to keep me warm while reading. I sat in the waning twilight and just watched it get dark until 9:30 when I reclined the seat, but remained awake, probably for another hour or so.

Rest Day at 15,500 feet, Chile-Argentina border

This is part 6 of a 31-part posting of my journal entries and photos from one of the greatest experiences of my life so far--a month-long mountain climbing trip to the Atacama Desert area of northern Chile and Argentina, which included summiting three 6000 meter peaks (~20,000 feet).  To view all the entries in this series, check the posts labeled South America.

DAY 6 - Sunday 10 January 2010

I spent the night sleeping in my car parked in a pull-out beside the international highway that connects northern Chile and Argentina.  For twelve hours through the night no vehicles passed my position.  Maybe most of the traffic is commercial, so not active on weekends?  I took a while to fall asleep, perhaps an hour and a half, but then I slept really, really well! I woke up a total of 3 or 4 times through the entire night, and then only for a minute at most. I started stirring and was more awake when light developed in the eastern sky, but then slept more, waking up to note the first sun on the adjacent mountains.

It was a chilly, calm morning.  At 7:30 the sun hit my car and I just sat and monitored the warm-up inside the car. Outside my thermometer read 14 degrees. It warmed up slowly to freezing over an hour and fifteen minutes inside the car. Lots of frost had accumulated on my inside windows, and that took most of the hour to start melting. Meanwhile I made myself a quart bottle of powdered milk and Ovaltine and drank it, then just rested and relaxed. At 9AM I turned on the car briefly and caught up on journaling with the laptop plugged in with my inverter. Then at 9:15 I took a little stroll across the road to the south, enjoying the warming temperature and still calm winds.

I returned to the car, deciding that if I want to take a stroll for exercise, the time was now: when the wind is light. I changed and put on sun screen and headed out at 9:40, just minutes after the first car came by--first one since before sunset last night.

I hiked from 9:40 to 11:30 in nice conditions at a relaxed pace, only getting up to 15,650 feet. The breeze began to organize about 11AM. Before that it was essentially calm, with slight breezes from different directions. The west wind became steady but still very light after 11, and continued to intensify all through the afternoon, so that it was at its strongest by 6PM.

When I got back to the car I changed and at 11:40 I drove back up toward the pass to check out access to the slopes of Cerro San Francisco, the 6020 m mountain south of the pass. At the pass I found a very good quality jeep road that crossed the flats for less than a mile to the base of the mountain. From there the road continued up the slopes and would be a good path to follow for some training. I drove up to the base of the slope and parked. In some ways that side road was smoother and firmer than the highway! It certainly was no trouble for my car. The elevation there was 15,600 feet, so about 100 feet higher than the pass. Up top is a photo of my ‘campsite’ 1.1km from the highway, with the border markers on the highway barely visible a bit above/right of the car.  This would be where I would camp for the next three nights.

I settled there at noon with the wind still just 10 to 15mph. I reclined my seat and napped and rested until 1:30PM then went out for a little stroll on the flat. The wind was still not bad. And I was surprised to notice insects at this extreme altitude and dry conditions--three different kinds buzzed my car--flies, some kind of big bee, and an even bigger fast moving moth-like thing. Back in the car I started planning my next two days.  When I checked my supply of water I realized that I didn't have enough to take two hard hikes.  It is critical not to get dehydrated at this altitude--at least for me. As it is, I was feeling fantastic--no headache today and no other symptoms--acclimatizing well.

I made a hike list--list of things to be sure to take and do before heading off on my hike tomorrow soon after sunrise--the goal tomorrow is to try to reach 18,000 feet. I began to feel a bit of soreness on the ball of my right foot, so checked it out.  I had a big half-inch blister there--not on the bottom of the foot but close enough to it to be a concern. I had worn cotton socks rather than my smooth nylon liner socks and padded hiking socks on both yesterday’s and today’s hikes. It was stupid to wear them, though I could not have predicted they’d make that big a difference.

What a horrible time to develop a blister! Well, that changed my plans for tomorrow--just a short hike tomorrow, then hopefully one big one to 18,000 feet on Tuesday, then the water supply should hold up, I hope, and I’ll just leave for the lowlands soon after sunrise on Wednesday. That would change my plans to do some further exploration on Tuesday. I’ll never get back to Laguna Verde for a soak in the hot springs, nor go to the nice Refugio at the base of Barrancas Blancas that was recommended to me. I won’t miss those, though.  A good hard training hike and just living at the highest possible altitude were my top priorities for this solo part of the trip.

I snacked a little then got out Silmarillion at 4:30 and started reading. I took a break at 5PM and ate the first of two packets of Italian spaghetti sauce--Wow! Did that hit the spot! I should have brought more. From 5:10 to 5:25 I took a little stroll up to a nearby rise, enjoying a slight break in the wind and a still warm air temperature of 63 degrees, and testing out the blister.  It isn’t severe, and hadn’t broken. I couldn’t actually feel any sensation from it on the stroll.

 I returned to reading Silmarillion and read until it got too dim to see. The sun set on my car at 8:25, at which time I got into my sleeping bag. It set on the peaks about ten minutes later, and at 8:50 it was becoming difficult to read, so I fully bundled into my sleeping bag and went to bed.

Hiking around San Francisco Pass, Chile-Argentina border

Note:  This is the fifth in a 31-part posting of my journal entries and photos from one of the greatest experiences of my life so far--a month-long mountain climbing trip to the Atacama Desert area of northern Chile and Argentina, which included summiting three 6000 meter peaks (~20,000 feet).  To view all the entries in this series, check the posts labeled South America.

Looking west from about 16,500 feet elevation toward Laguna Verde and the desolate, nearly lunar landscape of the high Atacama Desert.

Day 5 - Saturday 9 January 2010

I was parked on a pull out beside the road at about 14,000 feet elevation and slept in the car overnight. One last car came by at about 9:25, then I had the place entirely to myself for the duration of the night. I was pleasantly surprised at how well I slept, getting big chunks of intermittent sleep all through the hours of darkness. At first I was too warm in the sleeping bag and had to unzip it. I also went outside and refilled my water bottle and appreciated the chance to cool off! But it continued to get colder all night, and I was soon perfectly comfortable snuggled in the cocoon of the sleeping bag. The reclined seat was much more comfortable than an airline seat, and I had several good positions to sleep in that were entirely satisfactory.

Regarding adjusting to the altitude, I had a headache at first, but I took two Ibuprofin and also fully hydrated. I’m convinced from tonight and from my experiences in Bolivia that complete hydration is the real key to feeling good at altitude--it made a huge difference last night. My headache had faded into insignificance within half an hour of hydrating and remained so, returning somewhat in the morning, probably due to further need of hydration.

Overnight I marveled at the amazing sky just bristling and swathed with drifts of stars. The waning moon came up over the adjacent hills at 4:20AM and then the sky began to show the first signs of light from the sun around 5:50. I lingered until there was enough light to see easily, poking my arms and head out of the sleeping bag at 6:20. I started the car to heat up the interior, then got out the laptop and caught up on my journal. As I did a truck came by at 6:35--first vehicle since 9:25 last night. By then the car was beginning to warm up, so I got out of my sleeping bag and checked the outside temperature--it was 23 degrees, so I was glad that my drinking water inside the car had not frozen.

At 6:45 the first rays of sun hit the one high peak I could see from my cove. I rearranged things in the car and made a breakfast of concentrated Ovaltine. Because of the low pressure at this altitude, I got an explosive facefull of mix as I unsealed the bulging cover of the jar--got it all over my clothes and some on the car seat as well. I drank all of the mix made of equal parts of Ovaltine and a one quart package of powdered milk, mixed with water to make 28 ounces. Then I hit the road at 7:20, as the sunshine was rapidly beginning to arrive on the local hills right around me. Almost immediately I had to stop to take a photo of a cataract on the Rio Lama that has a road leading to it and where someone was camped--a spot I would have taken if I had known about it.

I stopped again to photograph Nevado Tres Cruces from two different angles then Ojos del Salado with a sign identifying it clearly:

At 22,615 feet, Ojos del Salado is the second highest mountain outside of the Himalayas, surpassed by only Aconcagua, another mountain farther south on the Chile-Argentina border.  The expedition I was to join later was planning to summit Ojos.  That was the reason I had come to South America.  I drove on west and got to the high lake called Laguna Verde (Green Lake).  In the photo below you can see the quality of the highway surface here--pretty basic, very dusty!

The Aventurismo organization has their field office here where some hot springs drain into the lake.  I “checked in” at the refugio - the building has a hot spring bath/pool inside - and looked over the perfectly warm little hot springs pools outside.  

But I had no interest in staying.  I wanted to do a little hiking today to further acclimatize to the altitude.  I was there at the refugio only from 9AM to 9:20 then moved on, headed for Paso San Francisco and the Argentine border. I got to the border at 10AM and took a few pics of myself.

The sign lists the altitude at 15,505 feet and my watch altimiter read 14,880 feet, so I reset it. It turns out that the altitude that I slept at last night was the same as the altitude of Laguna Verde, but I’m glad I stayed where I did.

 At Paso San Francisco, my gas gauge read 5/8 full, so I’m cutting it pretty close (to make it back to the closest gas station in Copiapó), assuming that the gauge is skewed as most are--probably only have half a tank left, so I added the 10 liters of gas from the gas can I brought along to see how the gauge would change. It went up to more than 7/8 full--a quarter tank, which was in accord with my rough estimate of a 40 liter fuel tank.  That was all the gas I had to play with until I got back to civilization.

At 10:25 I headed back down into Chile Laguna Verde. I stopped again at a turn-out just below the pass at 15,080 feet, considering whether to spend the night this high, and also interested in trekking around on a mountain off to the north.  So I shut down the laptop and the car, put on sunscreen and trekking shoes and headed out around 10:45. I had no plan at the outset, other than hoping to reach an altitude of 16,500 feet today. I found a 250km marker on the old original abandoned one lane road.

Then I started trekking toward higher ground. The wind was fierce and getting fiercer. I got to the top of a mound that was almost exactly 16,000 feet and was almost physically blown off it--gusts well over 50mph for sure and steady winds of 40. Luckily I had brought along extra jackets and mittens--I put on a lot of stuff and was warm in the wind, but needed 4 layers or so to be comfortable even though the air temperature was in the 60’s. I started heading across gentle slopes toward a fairly significant mountain north of the road, but set back a couple of miles, targeting a little snow field in a valley (out of the wind?) that looked to be at about 16,500 feet. Somewhere along this section I paused to shoot the photo headlining this post.

I kept to the leeward slopes of an arm of the big mountain and found myself always keeping too far to the left and always keeping too close to the ridge line of that arm of the mountain, hoping to stay in some wind shadow. I was getting pretty tired, when I noticed I had reached 16,640 feet so I decided to abandon the cross-slope trek to the ice field and just climb up to the ridge and try to achieve 17,000 feet. The going was over big rocks much of the way along the wind shadow, and now I more or less headed straight up to the wind. I was getting really exhausted--feeling the same at under 17,000 feet that I had felt around 18,000 feet in Bolivia a couple years ago. I was staggering and stumbling and quite totally spent. I could not have ascended much further. I took a great panoramic shot of everything from San Francisco Pass to Laguna Verde including 5 or 6 big mountains along the border, Ojos del Salado among them. Don't know how well that will show up here, but here it is:

At this point in my adjustment to altitude, I could not imagine how I could get another 5500 feet higher (to the summit of Ojos del Salado) unless I could do it in small increments and very slowly. At this point I just have my eye on achieving 20,000 feet. I started down at 2:30PM, going a direct bee-line route toward my car. The way back was more into the wind and was on the windward side of the spur of the mountain (probably about an 18,000 foot mountain) so the wind was truly brutal. Plus I had no idea how far I had traveled horizontally. I do remember looking at these mountains on Google Maps and not even considering climbing them because they were too far from the road!!

Anyhow, the return walk was serious torture. I got back to the car at 4PM, implying that the horizontal distance was probably more than four miles and vertical ascent 2000 feet. I was really spent but so happy to be out of the wind. I found myself continuing to need to consciously breathe heavily. I considered the possibility that if I re-hydrated fully and got a balance of calories in my system that I might get rid of that desperate need of oxygen. The reason I suspected that was because even near sea level on my training hikes of Bob's Hill in MD I noticed the same effect on days when I had not taken in enough calories. It worked exquisitely. I ate crackers, a packet of Gu, plenty of water, and some Skittles, and soon all need of consciously breathing heavily disappeared completely, only to come back a little about 3 hours later when I was needing more food and water.

All in all, today provided a bunch of hugely valuable ‘data’ and lessons on my body's reaction to altitude. Once I had eaten I just reclined in the seat and rested and napped for the rest of the afternoon, not stirring into action again until around 8:00 as the sun was setting below Mulas Muertas. The wind seemed to begin to let up just as the sun set. I wonder if today is typical. This morning as I drove past Tres Cruces, it was absolutely dead calm out in the wide open flats between mountains. Even at San Francisco Pass the wind was only a moderate breeze. Only in the afternoon did it get so fierce. I’ve read that people start summit days early here mostly to avoid the wind. I guess I’ve just had a firsthand lesson in why that’s a wise move. In the days ahead I’ll try to be aware of the cycle of the winds. I’ll probably only do one more hard workout like today’s five hour ordeal before I leave--probably try to get to 18,000 feet on Mulas Muertas starting at 14,000 feet at Laguna Verde. That mountain is over 19,000 feet high and people do that 5000 foot ascent as a ‘little’ training hike! I think I must be a true pretender in this area of endeavor.

I had caught up on my journal writing a bit after sunset, at 8:40, then I turned on the car for a while and continued on the laptop, processing the panoramas and other photos taken today. It looked like I’d have almost no road traffic again today, going by my little turn-out. It had already been something more than an hour since the last vehicle passed. I finished the photo work at 9:25 and turned off the car and settled in for the night.

Chile: Driving from the Pacific coast to 14,000 Feet

Note:  This is the fourth in a 31-part posting of my journal entries and photos from one of the greatest experiences of my life so far--a month-long mountain climbing trip to the Atacama Desert area of northern Chile and Argentina, which included summiting three 6000 meter mountains (20,000 feet).  To view all the entries in this series, check the posts labeled South America.

Today was all about driving from sea-level right on the Pacific Ocean at Bahia Inglesia up to the high mountains near San Francisco Pass on the Chile-Argentina border.  Once beyond the vicinity of Copiapó, the pavement ended.  What you see here is a dirt road, and in places it was not this smooth and well-oiled.

Day 4 - Friday 8 January 2010

Though I went to bed late - 2:30AM, I fell asleep quickly and easily and got all the sleep I needed. I didn’t wake up until it was daylight, at 7:15, and only then because an alarm clock in the next room went off. I did my journaling on the laptop then packed some stuff and took it to the car. I was surprised to find that it was drizzling enough to accumulate a mist on the car--eventually enough to run off. For the driest desert in the world that seemed pretty significant.

 I headed up to the hotel's free breakfast buffet. It was fairly sparse--plenty of breads and the like, but no eggs or warm meats, so I filled up on cold lunch meats, fruit cocktail, fruit juice and whole milk. Everything was good, but with nothing cooked, the hotel is getting off pretty easy for the high price they charge for rooms. I guess you're paying for the oceanfront location.

Back in my room I caught up on record keeping and finished packing. Before checking out I got on the internet in the lobby and posted a quick entry on Facebook. I was on the road at 9:30, passing the airport fifteen minutes later, and driving on to Copiapó. My first stop was supposed to be the only stop - the gas station on the way out the other side of town. But they started pumping gas before I thought to ask if they took credit or US dollars--they didn’t take either!

The very nice middle aged man who had pumped the gas said he would hold my US dollars while I went back into town to change some money. He recommended a huge modern supermarket called Jumbo that I had noticed on the south side of town on the way through--the place I should have found yesterday when I did all my grocery shopping! He seemed to think they would change money for me. After negotiating the usual one way streets and no left/right turn intersections through town, I finally got to the Jumbo store and parked in the US style lot--even better because all the closest in parking spaces have roofs over them.

The store is modern and absolutely huge--I’ve never seen one so big and well stocked and well lit in the USA!!! But they did not change money, so I had to head on to downtown, dreading the prospect of finding parking. I had noticed an underground parking sign at the big mall right at the town center area, but I chose not to try to park there. Luck was with me, though.  I found a parking space within a block of the central square.

Central square in downtown Copiapó

It was the only empty space I saw, and it was only half a block away from a big Banco de Chile building. As soon as I walked in the door someone directed me to the right person. But I had to take a number--20--and they were serving number 10. I took the time to look at the busy town square and take a picture.

Then I sat around in the nice cool shade of the bank lobby, eventually got my cash changed, and headed back to the gas station. The attendant looked like he was surprised to see me.  Obviously he hadn't expected me to ever return. I had him top me off with more gas and then I was finally on the road to the mountains at 12:25PM.

I took my time driving up, stopping to take pictures along the way, including stopping at some remarkable 'painted hillsides' with multicolored naturally flowing (gravity driven) color streaks--untouched by any human or animal tracks--the place is so remote and so dry that few wild animals roam it and no humans have desecrated that delicate beauty. The glacier like flow of the soil is obvious. It probably takes thousands of years for a rock to flow from where it breaks loose from its source until it reaches the base of the hill.

I drove over the first pass, called Cuesta Codoceo, that Google maps says is just over 14,000 feet and my watch altimeter said 13,500 feet. I stopped there to take pictures of the unique prickly tundra plants, and noticed that the altitude was affecting me.  I was significantly dizzy and disoriented--sort of impaired as if slightly drunk. Based on that I decided not to go all the way to 15,000 foot Laguna Verde tonight, but to stop at a lower elevation.

 At the Salar de Maricunga border check station (which is more than 20 miles from the actual border  because of the border's remoteness and extreme elevation) I had expected lots of bureaucratic paperwork and questions, so I was shocked to find that the attendant told me I didn’t even have to stop if I wasn’t going to cross into Argentina. I drove on from there and started up the smaller pass or summit called Cuesta de Rio Lama. On the way up that I noticed some Guanacos and was lucky enough to take a couple close-up pics:

A guanaco - a slightly smaller, cuter cousin of the llama

They were there because down below them was a strip of really lush grass and flowing water in the Rio Lama valley. That place really looked inviting, so finally I stopped at a curve around a gentle wash that led down to the stream. The spot was sheltered from the steady winds too. I had already reached the same altitude as the top of Cuesta Codoceo, though I was now already better acclimatized and felt pretty good. I put on sun screen and hiked down 500 feet of elevation to the river where I saw 8 more Guanacos grazing:

They saw me also, and though I wasn’t close at all, they abandoned the grass and headed up the hillside. I walked around a little and took a bunch of pictures and then headed back to the car. From atop the 100 foot cliff I took a vertical ‘panorama’ of the stream as it tumbled down amid the lush green grass it supports in this otherwise utterly barren desert.

Stitched-together view of the Rio Lama, bottom portion is looking almost straight down

 The walk took about an hour. I was back at 5:30. I unpacked a few things in anticipation of the cold night, though with the sun still shining on the car it was too hot. I got out my thermometer among other things and found that the air temperature in the shade was above 60 degrees even here at 14,000 feet, and even as it got dark it was still lingering in the upper 40’s. I ate some supper of Chilean crackers and American Skittles.

Traffic was very sparse and got to be much less as evening progressed. I learned later that that was because the Argentine border post closes before dark and allows no traffic through. A car came by around 7 and the next one at 8PM. I had been napping or resting as the sun went down behind the adjacent mountain around 7:30. I got up and got on the laptop about 8:10 and downloaded and processed all the new photos then caught up on my journal. By then it was almost completely dark. Another car came by just as I was finishing, at 9:10PM. I put away the laptop and settled in for a long night that I expected to be uncomfortable just because of the position of sleeping on a reclined car seat.

(Another note:  For this portion of my adventure I was alone and did not have a tent.  I was later to join an expedition on the Argentina side, but had come to Chile early in order to get more time acclimatizing myself to high altitude and doing some extra hiking in those extreme elevations.)