Issue link: http://bluemagazine.uberflip.com/i/25120
o climb resembled barren moonscapes strewn with volcanic boulders, high winds and dust Most people climb 20,000-foot volcanoes after they've run out of other peaks to scale. True, in my friend Michael's case. Not in mine. My elevation experience was limited to much smaller ski mountains in Vail, Colorado. So when Michael called up and said, "Let's go climb some volcanoes in South America," I laughed, thought for a moment and said yes. I figured at worst it would be scenic, at best we would summit one of Ecuador's most cov eted peaks. We began planning. We bought some gear. We practiced climbing. We dehydrated tofu, vegetables and tomato sauce. We ran. We ran some more. After a brief and nerve-wracking stopover in my favorite resort town of Bogota, Colombia, we landed in Quito, Ecuador. Welcome, and good luck breathing. The 9,000-foot elevation hit us like walk ing into a smoke-filled bar at 2am. In the swirl of the airport arrival area-as we waited near the baggage carrousel hoping that our ropes, packs, carabiners, crampons, head lamps and two weeks of dehydrated food had made it through the flight-two things became suddenly clear: Our three months of sea level training What new mountain-climbing enthusiasts may not realize is that no amount of aerobic conditioning can guarantee a smooth transition from living at low altitude to climbing at high altitude. If you're concerned about it, try bringing some Diamox with you or ask your doctor for acclimatization strategies. As a general rule, it's best to climb with at least two other people. During our climbs, we encountered a number of crevasses and ceracs. Some, but not all, of the volcanoes had refugios. For about US$10 you can park your sleeping bag in these modest lean-to huts and cook up dinner on a gas stove. were just about worthless and all the Spanish classes I had cursed in school were actually proving very useful. The Republic of Ecuador is a relatively safe and stable democracy bolstered by petroleum production, coffee, flowers, a strong fishing industry and, more recently, by tourism. Although cautious, I never felt unsafe in the craziest corners of Quito and the strangest hotels in Riobamba. We walked through Quito, a town which became part of the Inca empire over 500 years ago, before landing at our hos tel the Posada de Maple. This was a great place to acclimatize for two to three days before heading to nearby Rucu Pichincha, our 15,000-foot primer. Altitude is not fun. Even after twenty paces I felt as if I'd been wrapped up in a ziploc bag and asked to run a marathon. We had to re-hydrate constantly. Forced drinking is not fun either. At rest, our pulse rates doubled. Sleep was nearly impossible and gave way to more of a somber tossing and turning throughout the dark hours of our trip. If all went well, we planned to meet our climbing partners, move south to Banos to climb Tungurahua (active at 16,500 feet). shoot over to Chimborazo (extinct but standing at 20,700 feet directly above the equator, the furthest point from the center of the Earth). and finish up at the popular Cotopaxi (active, smokey and cratered at 19,000 feet). After you add illness, inexperience and altitude, we had the makings of a great adventure. At 2AM on our Cotopaxi summit attempt, I awoke in a sweat. In my dreams I had heard the rumbling of the earth and the grinding of falling glaciers. A hundred years ago (seconds, geologically) volcanic material from the place I now slept, and the peak I would shortly attempt to climb, was blasted to the Ecuadorian coast 100 miles away. "Oh shit," I thought, "This is it." But eventually realizing that it was only the Incan winds, I looked for my ice axe and crampons. It was time to climb .•