Aconcagua   6962m/22842ft,  Argentina

Dear family,

Thought I would write a diary of my trip before much of it is forgotten and replaced by new memories of skiing. Much of it is abbreviated, but I'm sure you will understand much of what I'm trying to say. So here goes.

Tue 4th

Just a quick note from Mendoza, Argentina. As usual, I’m on a mission - racing around town in eager anticipation for my assault on Aconcagua, attempting to secure everything I could possible need. Paid for my permit this morning and am now in the process of acquiring food. I foresee a 16-17 day total trip which unfortunately requires a huge amount of food and fuel. Not looking forward to the 3 day hike in under heavy load. Catching a bus tomorrow for the peak. Yesterday I spent 20 hours waiting in the Santiago airport. Now in desperate need of a shower and shave. Am reading the ‘House of the Spirits’ which I’m thoroughly enjoying. Mendoza is a pretty town, wide avenues, plenty of parkland and fine views of the Andes. Argentina is surprisingly expensive, almost USA prices but it is not going to matter when I’m on the mountain. Will email you when I return, hopefully with good news. Hoping to score some fine weather.

Wed 5th

Walked into Pampas de Lenas from the highway (bus ride was 4 hours) and horrified at the weight of pack and skis (30+kg). Tortuous walk in took 5½ of the most pitiful hours, stopped probably every 40 min for water and to get the damn pack off my back. Last hour was the worst - couldn't find a decent place to cross a small, tumbling river and had to hike 20 min upstream before locating a suitable spot to jump. Signed in at ranger station, where they gave me a plastic bag and lecture on the importance of carrying out all my rubbish.

Thur 6th

Continued on to next campsite - a bleak, windswept site called Casa de Piedra. Although walk in was again an intolerable 14km, completed it in 5 hours. Less scree than previous day but at times likened it to crossing the Sahara – insufferably hot and rocky and at times felt like there were vultures circling above. Spent most of the night worrying about the suitability of my tent after an afternoon of being blasted by intense winds coming of the snow. Tent collapsed like a pancake just after dinner and had to relocate.

Fri 7th

Worst day so far. Long, exhaustive hike up to Base Camp (BC). Began early, around 7.30am and crossed river immediately, so took shoes off but river creeps up to mid thigh and so desperately frigid. Feet gradually thaw on opposite bank but relief is short lived due to a further 2 crossings upstream. Climbed steep moraine, to find a tiring uphill slog leading eventually to BC. Stopped every 100m from exhaustion and the first affects of altitude- still super hot, no clean water and pack felt like someone had added a few bricks overnight. Arrived at a barren, rocky BC in mid afternoon and located a protected campsite set inside a circular rock wall and collapsed.

Sat 8th

A rest day at BC. After the suffering of the past 3 days, have looked forward to this moment, when I could lie and roll around on my sleeping bag and saunter around under towering peaks without the burden of a car-like weight on the back. Weather still hot, enough to lie half naked, whilst still being at 4200m. Several groups occupy BC, the most vocal of which is a Canadian guided expedition with clients from Quebec. Rangers are nice and welcoming and local cook Daniel is extra friendly – great to talk to someone. The communal tent has books to read and provides an adequate shelter from the heat. My diet consists 90% of carbos, which is far from ideal, but it weighs little, is simple to prepare and will hopefully provide enough sustenance for the rigors of mountain climbing. Each day sees the same bland menu. Breakfast - Instant oats with milk powder and a handful of raisins and Tea. Lunch - Several GU sachets with water. A row of chocolate and poor but very cheap muesli bar. Dinner - Instant soup (chicken, pea, or pumpkin) with cup full of pasta. Finish off with Nestle Instant Cappuccino (sounds better than it is) and 2 or 3 pieces of chocolate. Both breakfast and dinner meals turn to glue like consistency with the greatest of ease. Everything became unappetizing after 2nd day. Other groups have heavy but thoroughly appealing dehydrated meals like chili and meaty lasagna, leaving me feeling like an eccentric dirtbag, alone in my tent.

Sun 9th

Despite the concerns from other groups, made my way to Camp 1 (4950m) after only 1 day in BC. Felt strong and strangely acclimatized but mostly couldn’t withstand the monotony and austerity of the lunar landscape around BC. My restlessness fired all cylinders and completed the 800m climb in 3 hours, nearly half the time taken by most groups. But I had a secret weapon - my touring skis, and was able to skin up half the ascent on a rapidly melting field of spring snow. Felt exhilarating to be back on skis, traversing beneath a mighty anthracite wall in the Andes.

Mon 10th

Plan to rest a full day at Camp 1, but advice from an Italian expedition is to be active during the day, apparently bone marrow employs more red blood cells, which somehow speeds acclimatization. Theory seemed interesting, so I climbed up to main Col with great views and no weight - noticed lovely snowfield to the right  in the slight roll of the slope, so rushed back down to Camp 1, grabbed my skis and more water and hiked back up to 5500m, scrambled over rocky scree slope and proceeded to lay faint tracks down a firm, snowy expanse down to camp. Great run but it probably only took 5 minutes. Spent the afternoon watching other teams retreating from their attempts of the Polish Glaciers. Most were exhausted and disappointed at failing. All teams had underestimated the difficulty of the Polish (my intended route) and found vast sections of thick ice in probably nasty weather. I asked about snow conditions and the unanimous response was that due to heat and melt/freeze cycle, the Polish was a 50 degree skating rink and did I bring 2 ice-axes? Some ice screws? ‘Well, no’, I replied. I brought one, and yes, I'm alone and I had planned to ski it. At least the penitentes weren't a threat. There was an easier way for an ascent, as II was soon to find out.

Tue 11th

‘Keep climbing’, that's my motto. Proceeded up to Camp 2 at the base of the Polish Glacier at 5900m. It was highest point I had ever been. The summit appeared to be so close and at that height you are higher than every other peak in the vicinity. Attempted to make a good, secure campsite but wind is ballistic. Impossible to cook, it is even difficult to find snow that's not ice for making water. By 4pm felt strangely lethargic, a headache kicked in and I retired to the tent for a quick power-nap. Couldn’t sleep and as sun descended, began regretting decision to camp up so high. Didn’t have the energy to get up and out of the tent to feed myself and headache was getting worse. I felt alone (closest person was at C1) and for the first time in my life, I experienced serious AMS. Wind howling like a banshee, tent felt like it was going to take off at any moment and I was lying there with head throbbing, telling myself that I would leave the moment I developed a cough, but knew deep inside that movement was impossible. ‘Just survive the night’ I repeated as a mantra. Didn’t sleep at all and morning was painfully slow in arriving, as it always is. Spent most of the night counting ripstop squares on the roof and concentrating on breathing.

Wed 12th

First light broke, crawled out of tent, barely mustering the energy to pack away belongings and tent, then commenced descent with my head in the clouds. Headache gradually evaporated, body parts began to thaw and arrived at Camp 1 in 2 hours. Made water, hid behind rock wall, made breakfast with the sun overhead. Felt 100% better. Skied halfway down to BC, where I arrived at 11am. Erected piece of shit tent in same grotto, found an innocuous Tom Clancy novel and proceeded to lose myself in light espionage. BC had all the rustlings of a shared habitat but due to its location on some rocky moraine, isn't too hospitable. Dome tents amongst an ocean of a million rocks and boulders in bleak, desolate browns and greys looks like something on the moon.

Thur 13th

Couldn’t stand the thought of another morning of goop porridge. Normally pride myself on my morning oats but this Argentinean variety is more suited for brick-laying than eating. Walked down to Daniel, the Park Ranger’s cook and ordered an omelet. He charged $10 US which is outrageous anywhere except  at BC, and it was indeed worth it. It contained spinach and bacon and I instantly felt recharged, both in mind and body, and quickly packed it all up again, sans skis and tore back up to Camp 1.

Fri 14th

Storm came through overnight - tried to snow but the flakes were light as air and melted instantly as they hit the earth. I watched breaks in the weather and waited till noon, and with the encouragement from some Dutch guys, packed everything up again and headed off towards the now infamous Camp 2. There are several advantages and disadvantages with climbing solo. The advantages are the weight (no need for rope, harness, protection) and that you make all the decisions. The disadvantages are undoubtedly, the loneliness and lack of communication, and in Aconcagua's case, the hassle of packing and resetting your tent every bloody night. Most other groups have the luxury of setting a different tent at every camp and avoiding the pain of erecting a new camp every evening. In the first few days of the expedition, I worried about having enough food, but in the past week, most concerns revolved around my inadequate tent. I've told myself to purchase the lightest, strongest tent available when I return home.

Sat 15th

My headache returned whilst at Camp 2 but not in the same intensity as before and it quickly disappeared in the first hour of awakening. The temperature was probably around -20c, my summit day and everything is frozen like cement. Pre dawn is as crystal clear, the first light was a vibrant, blood red and it painted the summit slopes in a magical glow. I dive into my tent to grab my camera but the prick didn’t work. The lens opened halfway then stopped in a gravelly whine. Batteries were dead. The cold reigned supreme. Curse for the next 10 minutes. Water from the previous night had frozen my pots together so I tried to get my stove going but again, nothing worked. Finally get fuel out but lighter wasn’t co-operating. My whole body ached, it was so cold that fingers felt like frozen stumps and for 20 min I blazed away until I finally got a spark and we're alight. Packed my bum bag with a heap of GU, 1lt of water, crampons and goggles and headed off. Instead of my axe (which I'd been told I wouldn’t require), I carried my ski poles for support. I had chosen the Falso Polish route, a basic traverse (and exit) of the glacier's foot which intersects with the easier, normal route at 6200m. The route was straightforward; just follow the foot prints in the snow, nothing steep or scary, but a slow, uncomfortable plod in ski boots. The morning was still clear and I reached the Normal route in an hour. The track widens – it apparently receives 10 times as many people as the Polish and heads towards the clouds.

After an hour of climbing, I passed the last refuge (a tiny shelter called Indepencia), then followed a tediously long gully, passing several struggling groups and put my crampons on for the first time when I encountered a slick, icy stretch. The wind at this final point was just nuts - screaming of its tits, pulling every cloud off the Pacific towards the summit. The climbing still wasn’t too severe but the altitude was taxing - stop every 20 steps for more breath and eventually, in what seemed like eternity, came across an explosion of footprints and a metal, tubular cross buried into the rock and snow and knew that there was nothing further to climb. Could make out the summit ridge connecting the northern summit but not much else, certainly not the ocean, nor the volcanoes to the south which I had been told you could see on a clear day. Stayed about 5 min, ate a packet of GU, felt elated and relieved, but too concerned with the descent to be overjoyed. Began the walk down, past blank, battling faces, missed my turn off and panicked for 1/2 an hour before locating the traverse and wondered into an abandoned Camp 2 some 2 hours later. Very happy to find tent upright and in one piece. Quickly dismantled camp, stuffed everything into pack, hoisted the pack onto my back and shuffled off towards Camp 1 with giant, elongated strides and the next day, to BC.

In the protection of a rocky ridge, with the heat beating down on me for the first time in several days, I smile and congratulated myself, and ponder the impending agony of the long walk back to civilization

Part II tomorrow.

Love Cam

alpine touring

ski touring aconcagua polish glacier

alpine touring