The Challenge

Like so many others, I was inspired by Dick Bass's book "Seven Summits." Mountain climbing sounded challenging and fulfilling, and well, macho. Then I saw the PBS special, "Expedition Inspiration" about a group of cancer survivors made the summit of Aconcagua. The mountain is high, but appeared to be climbable. At 22,841 feet, Aconcagua is the highest mountain in the Western Hemisphere, and the highest anywhere in the world outside the Himalayas. Yet its summit is accessible without any rock or ice climbing.

I chose it as my first big mountain because I wanted to find out how I would do at high altitude. Checking around, I found several adventure travel companies who were running trips to Aconcagua this year. One stood out because they were going the easier route and they only required basic mountaineering skills.

Preparation

The week after Christmas I made the commitment by paying my non-refundable fee. Then I spent almost as much money again on equipment; double plastic climbing boots, -20 sleeping bag, fleece and down jackets, triple mitten system, head lamp, ice axe, crampons, walking sticks, etc. For the next month I alternated between hiking up Iron Mountain in all the gear and a full pack, and running the hills in Reisner Ridge and Aspen Hills.

February 1 I flew to Mendoza, Argentina and hooked up with my group. We were 12 climbers from around the US and five guides from Mexico, Peru, Canada and the US. Sergio, the lead guide, had guided trips around the world for more than 20 years. Augusto, was the first Peruvian to summit Everest, and had been to the summit of Aconcagua 22 times. The other guides were equally qualified and experienced. We had a day to get to know the group and size each other up. We were all in high spirits and ready for the mountain. Then some disturbing news quickly brought us back to reality.

Death on the Mountain

The headline in the Mendoza newspaper on February 2 read, "Japanese Climber Killed on Aconcagua," and the article carried a picture of his shattered body on the snow. It was a grim reminder that the mountain was not to be taken lightly. Nor was that the end. The following day when we arrived at the ranger station to show our climbing permits, it was full of commotion. A 25-year-old Swiss climber had over-exerted himself on the hike to base camp the previous day. During the night he developed pulmonary edema and had to be taken out on a mule. He died about a mile above the ranger station. After hearing this news, I sat and thought a long time before continuing the climb. I had told my wife that this wasn't a dangerous mountain, and then suddenly there were two deaths in two days. It was a very sobering start indeed.

We climbed Aconcagua via the "Normal Route." This involves a 26-mile hike from the trail head to Base Camp at 14,000 feet. The trail then ascends to Camp 1 at 16,000 feet, Camp 2 at 18,000 feet, and Camp 3 at 19,500 feet. From Camp 3, the trail climbs the final 3,500 feet over snow and scree, across an exposed traverse, and up the notorious Canaleta, to the summit.

Base Camp

The hike to Base Camp was warm and pleasant. Our supplies were carried by mules so we hiked with just day packs. Aconcagua dominates everything for miles around and is plainly visible during the approach. We marveled at the sheer South Face looming almost two vertical miles above us. After the first six miles there is no vegetation at all, not even a single weed. It is a scene of incredible desolation and stark beauty.

Base Camp is a haphazard sprawl of tents pitched among the rocks. A silty stream flows off the glacier and winds through the camp, freezing each night and then running again each afternoon. We met climbers from around the world, most of whom were retreating from the bad weather up high on the mountain. One Brazilian told me that this was his second attempt in two years, but that he had turned back again at Camp 3 after two nights of 70-mph winds and bitter cold. He was disappointed, but would probably return. Another told me that he too had turned back at Camp 3. "I'm 62," he said, "and this is my last attempt here. We didn't make it, but I have to say, I enjoyed every minute of the experience." I resolved to try to feel the same about my climb. The next day, we met a group of Norwegians who had enjoyed better luck. Three of the five had reached the summit, the other two had turned back with altitude sickness. They were understandably elated and even though they had summitted only the day before, they were enjoying a game of volleyball at 14,000 feet.

After Base Camp we carried all of our own gear and supplies. In order to acclimatize properly, we ascended only 1,000 feet per day. Our schedule called for us to make a carry one day (carry a half load to the next camp and return) and then make a move the next (carry the rest of our equipment to the next camp). After a rest day at Camp 2 we would then move in one day to Camp 3 and then go to the summit the following day. The schedule also had two extra days to allow for bad weather.

Camp 1 at 16,000 ft.

Everything went according to plan almost perfectly. The whole first week the weather was marginal. While we were low on the mountain, we could see that it was very windy and snowing every day higher up. Almost all the climbers coming down reported that they were unable to get past Camp 3 because of the high winds and snow. We had our own dose of the "White Wind" one afternoon at Camp 1. It was quite an experience to cling to the side of a mountain in a tent while a 50-mph blizzard raged outside. It only lasted a couple of hours, but it was enough to earn our respect.

As we moved higher on the mountain, the weather got progressively better. We found a lot of snow at Camp 3, but very little wind as we prepared for our summit day. By this time our party of 12 was down to 8. Three had gotten sick and one was simply exhausted. They returned to Base Camp with one of the guides and gave up their attempt. I felt strong and healthy the whole trip. I ate well, though freeze-dried food is a poor substitute for the real thing. We filled up on soup, crackers, salami and sardines. Plus I had plenty of my own granola and fruit bars to supplement the food that was provided. Most of the group complained about not being able to sleep, but I slept well almost every night. The extra money I spent on a superior quality sleeping bag turned out to be money well spent. I was never troubled by headaches or nausea. I never took any of the medication I brought, not even any aspirin, the candy of mountain climbers.

Summit Day

Summit day was the climax of the climb. It was the hardest physical and mental challenge I have ever faced. We had been climbing only three or four hours a day, but this was a 14-hour day on the hardest part of the mountain. And we had been staying in our sleeping bags until 9am waiting for the sun to warm our tents, but summit morning began at 5am.

The Traverse

The guides brought hot water and oatmeal to our tents so we could stay warm as long as possible. Then at 6am we put on all of our cold weather gear. For me this included long underwear, fleece jacket, down jacket, wind jacket, fleece pants, wind pants, two layers of socks, three layers of mittens, a fleece hat and a down hood. We laced up the mountain boots, clamped on crampons, and shouldered a day pack with two liters of water, snacks, camera and ice axe.

We set off in the pre-dawn darkness, illuminating the rocky path with our head lamps. By now we were used to the extremely slow pace set by our experienced guides, and no one asked to move faster. It was extremely cold, but under all the gear I was warm except for my feet and thumbs. The sun slowly rose and we were treated to a spectacular sunrise. The visibility was unlimited and we could see hundreds of Andean peaks to the north. At one point we all stopped and gazed in awe at the shadow of Aconcagua as it stretched all the way to the horizon.

The Canaleta

After four hours of climbing we cleared the switchbacks and came to the traverse. From below this had looked like an easy horizontal crossing. We were dismayed to find that it was a 30-degree slope of snow and ice and it took almost two hours to cross. Then we were in the Canaleta, a 1,000 foot chute of loose rock and snow at a 45-degree angle. Fortunately, there was still quite a bit of snow and we were able to climb in our crampons rather than scrambling over the rock. Here, every step was an effort, and the summit looked impossibly far away. But climbing is mostly about putting one foot in front of the other. After three more hours, at 3:30pm, we crossed the last outcropping and saw the cross that marks the summit.

On the Summit, 22,841 ft. Feb 15, 1996 3:30pm

We slapped high fives all around. The weather was spectacular and we took all kinds of summit pictures. For an hour, we were the highest people in the western hemisphere. But I did not have a sense of euphoria or jubilation because I was still worried about being so tired and getting down safely.

In fact, the trip down the Canaleta and back across the traverse was the hardest part of the whole climb. At the top I was a little dizzy and staggered after almost every step. Down lower I was concerned about slipping on the icy snow in the traverse, especially when it clouded up and began snowing. But we roped up to cross the traverse and it went very smoothly. Then as we continued to descend towards Camp 3 the clouds lifted, the wind ceased, and the air warmed up substantially. Suddenly, I realized we were safely down and that we had made it. I looked at a couple of my companions and saw that they were having the same thought. Our group sat down on the slope and relaxed for the first time in hours. It was there that I felt the first exhilaration at our accomplishment.

The South Face

The rest of the descent was quick and comparatively easy. We spent the night at Camp 3. The next morning we descended 5,500 vertical feet in two hours to Base Camp where we spent a final night on the mountain. That last night I lay in the tent looking out the open flap and watching the stars rise over the mountain. At first I noticed two bright stars, and they were soon joined by two more. Suddenly realized that I was watching the Southern Cross rise from the a shoulder of the mountain. It seemed to be a blessing from the heavens for our safe return.

The last day we hiked out the full 26 miles while mules carried out our equipment. We passed many heading up the valley toward their own encounter with the mountain and could only shake our heads at what we knew awaited them. After seven hours of hiking and four hours in the van we arrived back in the city for three long awaited events; the first shower in 14 days, a huge meal of real food in a restaurant, and a phone call home.