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A graveyard (foreground) unnervingly marks the way to Huayna Potosi (background), which at 6088M tall, towers over La Paz - the highest capital city in the world
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Venturing south through Peru into Bolivia, we reached the bowl-shaped capital, La Paz.
The mountain - Huayna Potosi - is only a few miles away so we asked some tour-guides to lead us up. Locals laughed at us when we told them we planned on scaling the 20,000ft beast which had claimed the life of a German tourist just 3 days before.
The mountain - Huayna Potosi - is only a few miles away so we asked some tour-guides to lead us up. Locals laughed at us when we told them we planned on scaling the 20,000ft beast which had claimed the life of a German tourist just 3 days before.
We didn't exactly look like mountaineers; we had spent the last three weeks in hospital beds with Amazonian parasites and salmonella, shitting our guts up and tripping balls on cheap Bolivian Morphine generics. Now we were facing a climb way higher, colder and steeper than anything we'd attempted thus far...
We had to get in shape.
Every day, whilst Dave napped, Ali and I ran through the streets of La Paz.
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| Riot Police stand guard... ... while protesters unite in song |
We ran through black-markets, mile-long fruit-markets and markets selling stolen car-parts and TV remotes, past stray pigs, crazy people, homeless people, crack addicts, rioters, miner-strikes, policemen with rifles and schoolgirls with backpacks.
And after 2 weeks exercise at high altitude we were ready.
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We arrived at Base Camp and spent the night there; 4700 Meters - nearly as high as Mont Blanc.
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| Ali 'massive dong' Danzig knows no fear |
Day 2: Our assent took us up the boulder-strewn East face to High Camp; a three hour climb which would have been piss-easy if not for the altitude and the 22 kilo packs we were lugging around. Inside them: essentials for the climb. Boots, ice-pick, crampons, harness, ropes, thermal suit, a shitload of socks, 2 litres of water and about 500 mini Oreos.
I would have taken way more photos but it took 5 minutes to take off those stupid fucking mittens.
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| Looking down upon the glacier front |
We arrived at High Camp; 5130 Meters. It was great to see this on the kitchen wall:
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| A note left by Ben and Jez two months earlier |
There were about 10 other people staying there too, also hoping to reach the summit for sunrise.
We went to bed at 6pm.
We would start the climb at 1am.
We would start the climb at 1am.
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| -2°C in High Camp |
Ideally I would begin the toughest physical challenge of my life after a full night's sleep. As it happened, Ali and I lay awake for a torturous 6 hours. The air was so thin that every time I dozed off I would wake up short of breath and have a 3 minute coughing fit, and the room was so cold that I slept in 7 layers and still thought my nob was gonna shatter if I rolled over.
To make matters worse I desperately needed a shit, but journeying to the toilet involved a 2 minute walk through a blizzard, which I just couldn't hack. To put it in perspective, at this temperature it doesn't hang: it perches.
The Climb: At midnight our guides came in to wake us up (mine was Philipé - a short, stocky, cube-headed fellow who spoke no English). We had breakfast, suited up and started climbing at 1am.
Looking back at it, the hours which followed seem almost like a dream. Walking in absolute darkness, only able to see what was illuminated by the small circle of light coming from my head-torch; not even a horizon or a summit in the distance, just Philipé a few steps ahead tied to me with a rope. Other than our own footsteps in the snow there was no sound whatsoever, and for times we would walk for an hour without saying a word. At the huge risk of sounding like that irritating fatty on the TV - what's her name? Oprah? - I suppose 'spiritual' is the best way to describe it.
As we climbed higher the mountain got steeper and the air got thinner and much colder. With no noise and nothing to look at it was almost a strange, perverted meditation to keep putting one foot infront of the other for 5 hours. Nearing the summit I started to have a mini-blackout every few minutes, regaining consciousness just as I fell. Any movement was pretty painful, but every time we stopped it became too cold and we would have to carry on. 'Breaks' consisted of an Oreo and 10 pushups to keep warm.
The last half-hour of walking was along this 2ft wide 'ridge' with a near-vertical drop on either side. Had I fallen off the edge, Philipé would have jumped off the other side with the rope connecting us in the middle. He didn't tell me this though, and the sun hadn't risen yet, so I wasn't even aware of the danger. When I looked down all I could see were my feet. Probably a good thing cos I'm shit-scared of heights and a fear-induced shart into my 1-piece thermal suit would have been an absolute disaster at this time.
After sunrise we walked back the way we had came; only this time I could actually see (and photograph) what we had passed on the way up...
...so someone tell that Israeli to get a fucking haircut.
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| 30ft icicle formations line the route |
Looking back at it, the hours which followed seem almost like a dream. Walking in absolute darkness, only able to see what was illuminated by the small circle of light coming from my head-torch; not even a horizon or a summit in the distance, just Philipé a few steps ahead tied to me with a rope. Other than our own footsteps in the snow there was no sound whatsoever, and for times we would walk for an hour without saying a word. At the huge risk of sounding like that irritating fatty on the TV - what's her name? Oprah? - I suppose 'spiritual' is the best way to describe it.
As we climbed higher the mountain got steeper and the air got thinner and much colder. With no noise and nothing to look at it was almost a strange, perverted meditation to keep putting one foot infront of the other for 5 hours. Nearing the summit I started to have a mini-blackout every few minutes, regaining consciousness just as I fell. Any movement was pretty painful, but every time we stopped it became too cold and we would have to carry on. 'Breaks' consisted of an Oreo and 10 pushups to keep warm.
I remember looking back towards High Camp and seeing nothing in the blackness but 10 tiny floating specks of white light in pairs; they were the other climbers (and their guides) following our tracks in the distance...
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| 'The Ridge' (taken on the way down) |
The last half-hour of walking was along this 2ft wide 'ridge' with a near-vertical drop on either side. Had I fallen off the edge, Philipé would have jumped off the other side with the rope connecting us in the middle. He didn't tell me this though, and the sun hadn't risen yet, so I wasn't even aware of the danger. When I looked down all I could see were my feet. Probably a good thing cos I'm shit-scared of heights and a fear-induced shart into my 1-piece thermal suit would have been an absolute disaster at this time.
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| On the summit |
At 5.36am we reached the summit. I collapsed and coughed up a mouthful of blood, to the great amusement of Philipé (who somehow had more energy now than at the start).
At 6088 meters, over two thirds the height of Everest, the temperature had plummeted to -25°C. I tried to drink some water but my bottle and its contents had frozen. I took out my camera to get some photos but the lens had frozen solid too. I had to lovingly massage it until it unthawed.
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| Sun rising |
Almost as if it had been waiting for us, the sun burst out from under the horizon to reveal the Bolivian Andes in all their glory.
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| Philipé in the gold of day |
As I lay there in the snow, bloodstained, overcome by physical and mental exhaustion and watching the sun rise below me, I think I may have had my very first 'religious experience'.
I quickly pulled myself together though, realising that my brain was severely starved of oxygen and I was suffering from altitude sickness. I was an atheist again, just 30 seconds later.
I quickly pulled myself together though, realising that my brain was severely starved of oxygen and I was suffering from altitude sickness. I was an atheist again, just 30 seconds later.
After sunrise we walked back the way we had came; only this time I could actually see (and photograph) what we had passed on the way up...
It took just 2 hours to stumble and slide back to High Camp, where I found Ali whinging about a migraine and Dave sound asleep. They had turned back before the summit, due to severe altitude sickness and 'extreme desire to sleep' (respectively).
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| Ice-fall at 5500m |
For less than a hundred quid I climbed a mountain and got a free T-Shirt thrown in.
...so someone tell that Israeli to get a fucking haircut.
