Chopicalqui

From Chopicalqui

Yesterday, I returned from a successful climb of Chopicalqui (6354 m/20,846 ft), the fourth highest summit in the Cordillera Blanca of Peru. Climbing with me were Mark, from Germany, and Jim, from Australia.

Our trip started out at 9:00 on the 26th of May when we met in Huaraz and hired a taxi to Yungay. On the way we were twice stopped by the police, who were doing random checks. They were unammused that our taxi driver was using his brother´s taxi and his brother´s taxi liscence. There dicontent, however, was remided with some smooth talk and a free copy of the newpapers our driver was delivering to vaious sites along the way.

We arrived in Yungay and soon hired another taxi to drive us to the trailhead. This time, our driver was personable, telling the local legend about the incestuous relationship between the two mountains Huascaran and Hunadoy, as well as teaching us Quechua names for the various plants we saw as we climbed up into the canyon. We stopped briefly at the park entrance to register, use a bathroon one last time, and get in a lst minute snack of papas con huevos that a Quechua woman was selling. After completing these formalities, we continued on our trip. It bears restating that the valley of the Lagunas Llanganuco has some of the most spectacular scenery I have ever seen. Finally arriving at our destination, we shouldered our packs a started off over the trail.

The trail climbed steadily through forests of polylepis to the base camp at 4300m (14,100 feet). Upon passing this, we promptly lost the trail and began floundering our way through steep fields of loose rock, boulders and paramo grass. With heavy packs, the going was rough. Finally, after climbing onto a high lateral moraine, we regained the trail and our former rate of progress. We had further route-finding difficulty, as we crossed the glacial trailings, a large field of boulders and loose rock, silt and ponds filled with green glacial melt water. Again, ascending onto an even higher moraine, we continued up towards the snout of the glacier itself. Under cloudy skies, we lacked the magnificent views that were to come. Nonetheless, the scenery was spectacular, with glaciers crashing down in a jumble of broken blue ice from the high peaks that surrounded us on all sides. As we made our way up the moraine, we found the trail washed out. We descended from the rim, onto more stable ground, and again began bushwacking. The going was steeper than before, and this combined with the altitude made for slow going. After more than an hour of hiking, we regained the lateral moraine and soon dragged ourselves into Moraine Camp (4800 m/15,750 feet).

Moraine Camp afforded us with all we could hope for: an abondant supply of fresh water, wonderful views and pre-made tent platforms large enough for our three-man mountain tent. We soon had the tent pitched and water boiling for dinner. After eating, we settled into our sleeping bags for a well-earned night of rest.


The next morning, we awoke at sunrise, which given our proximity to the equator, is always at about 6:00AM. The sky was crystal blue with the mountains shining brilliantly all around. We were in no rush. We only had about four hours of climbing to our next camp. We took our time sorting gear for a cache, drying sleeping bags and the tent, and eating breakfast. When the sun hit the rock wall directly behind our camp thousands of tiny peices of ice that had formed over night began breaking off and tinkling down the face. After a lazy morning, we were packed and ready to head up the glacier.

The glacier was perhaps 100 yards away from our camp, and once there, we put on crampons and ropped up. The glare of the sun was intense off the perfectly white surface of the glacier. Our progress was steady as we passed the mouths of massive crevasses 30 feet wide, yawning open, a thousand icicles dangling like inward pointing teeth. We watched with concern as large granite stones crashed down from the cliffs above smashing into our path. These areas of rock fall we passed quickly and with great trepedation. Finally, after an intense four hours, we found a flat spot protected from rock fall and avalnches and we decided to make camp. We had climbed to over 5530 m (18,100 feet).


After chopping a platform, no small feet with only our ice axes, was set up the tent. We dug out two wind shelters for the stoves. This is where I learned the hard way how truly poor the performance of canister stoves is in the cold. Frankly, my stove, which burned so hot at Moraine Camp, sucked on the glacier. We made plenty of water, ate a hearty dinner and prepared our gear in advance of our 2:30AM wake up. Once the sun set, the temperature on the glacier dropped quickly below freezing and we again made our way into the tent and the warmth and comfort of our sleeping bags.


At 2:30 the alarm awoke us from the light sleep at altitude. We quickly slid into our warm clothes and began preparations for the climb. Outside the tent, the moon had set making the stars seem to shine even more brilliantly, with the Milky Way streaking its way across the sky. Ever the slow one, I was last to tie in to the rope.

Jim took the lead, as he would for much of the climb, followed by Mark in the middle and me at the end. We climbed out of camp and up a steep slope. Passing a large crevasse, we came to an even steeper climb. Not knowing the way and not having the benefit of a trail, we decided to head south, over the the ridge proper. This took us up to an even steeper snow wall, looking unstable and overhanging a seemingly endless abyss. Neesless to say, we turned back for the steep snow climb we had seen earlier.


As the sun began to rise, we began to see the surrounding mountains in the light of dawn. Huascaran and Huadoy hovered in the sky, thousands of feet of rock and ice above the dark forest of the valley down below. We also were permitted our first look at our intended route. It seemed straight forward enough. At 6100 m (20,000 feet) we would cut up onto a snow ramp, make two simple traverses, and then climb a steep face to the saddle below the summit pyramid. However, as we climbed higher under the dawning day, the snow grew deeper and our progress slowed. Also, the thinning air made kicking steps a tiresome chore.


As we approached the snow ramp, we were already painfully behind schedule. With me in the lead, we traversed towards it in ever deepening snow. Exhausted, I made a stupid error: I decided to deviate from our chosen route, complaining about avalanche danger. Instead, I would climb the face directly. I figured this would have no more snow, but get us to our destination more directly, which would be both safer and faster. After a short struggle up a steep slope I traversed further to the left looking for easier passage. The steepness of the slope increased as I climbed towards a ridge and an easier ascent. The sugar snow common to the Cordillera Blanca would halt my upward progress and force me to traverse out of a "hole" I would dig myself into. I also was unable to go more than three or four steps before having to rest, my head againts the snow, due to the effects of the altitude. Finally I reached the ridge and was followed by Jim and Mark.

We climbed the ridge to a moderate slope where I hopped to traverse back onto our chosen route. The snow was n bad condition though: Three distinct layers of wind deposited snow were poorly bound and made for potentially high avalanche hazard. Given this, we decided to climb as high as we could before traversing. Switching leads again, we continued up and over for another ten minutes. It was late in the day. The snow was in bad shape. Our climbing was slow. The sun was beating down on us from above. It was not hard to see that we needed to turn around and no one protested when the decision was made to climb back down to stable ground. We diverged from our climb line, preferring instead to take the slope we had originally planned on and that I had avoided. Indeed, on the way down it was apparent that this would have been a far easier option than what we eventually climbed.

We made it back to the tent quickly, stopping only once to change out of our cold weather climbing gear, as the sun was again making the surface of the glacier oppressively hot. Near the bottom of our climb, my crampons began to ball badly. This was made all the more annoying by my deep exhaustion.

Back in camp, Mark went immediately to bed, while Jim and I made water and food. The idea to try again the next day had already come up, and if we could get rehydrated and refueled, we felt confident that we could make the summit. We would have a trail to climb to at least 6200m (20,300 feet) and we would not have the same difficulty with route finding. Jim and I constructed a solar snow melter, which allowed us to make about three liters of water without any fuel. We also found that the sun was intense enough that simply putting snow into our metal cooking pots would melt it. After much drinking, eating, and napping, we decided, with the help of route photos taken that morning, to try once again for the top.

The next morning started much like the first. We awoke at 2:30 and left camp at 4:00. This time though, with a solid trail, we covered in three hours the same ground it had taken us seven hours to cross the day before.

At 6200m, Mark was eager to avoid any traversing and so he and Jim started further up what had by then become known as the ridge route. I, on the other hand, felt the snow had improved sufficiently to allow us to traverse the slope onto the route I had seen the day before. As Jim climbed the ridge, I attended to building and anchor and further studying the snow. After perhaps twenty minutes of climbing, Jim reported down to Mark, that the ridge route was more difficult than it seemed for below. He figured it would take another two hours to put up the whole thing. He climbed back down to Mark so we could discuss what to do. Mark was unsure about the stability of the slope and weather, as there was fog coving the summit. I reassured him that the weather looked safe to me: all the surrounding peaks above 6000m were clearly visible and there were no signs of high wind. Also, digging in the snow had convinced me that the slope had stabilized enough to be safe to cross. With this information, we decided to traverse a bit and if anyone felt the slope was unsafe, we could turn back.

The snow felt solid and so, with me in the lead again, we set off. At some point, Mark suggested that I climb another steep snow slope to gain the level slope above. Once again, I set off on what would lead nowhere. After five minutes of climbing on progressively steeper terrain, this route was abandoned. Jim took over the lead that we continued across and then up onto a flat plane between two large crevasses. Here Jim attached the next slope, kick stepping up a steep wall to the col below the summit pyramid.

As we came up one-by-one, we got our first glimpse of the summit from so close. As the crux of the climb had been traversed safely, we savored the moment, taking a few photos, before setting off towards our goal. We traversed a narrow snow ridge, bordered by massive crevasses on either side, up to the base of the summit pyramid itself. The sun was shining brightly through the fog, making the air and snow humid, something we had not seen during our entire climb. Building anchors to belay our way over a shot ice wall, we made the summit pyramid proper with no real difficulty. From there, it was another climb through deep snow, with Jim in the lead, up a moderate slope.

On top we took a series of photos and ate and drank. It was a relief and pleasure to have completed the climb and I was disapointed only that the fog completely obscured our view of the surrounding mountains, with Huascaran, so close, only peeking through on rare occasions.

After a shot celebration, we turned to climb back down the mountain, reminding ourselves aloud that the majority of accidents happen on the way down. This, we hopped, would keep us vigilant. Retracing our steps we quickly made the traverse. This we had again grown nervous about, as the weather had turned suddenly warm, which increases avalanche risk. Still, the snow felt solid and we were quickly off the face, back down the ridge, and onto the relative safety of the flatter glacier. We stopped to rest and breathe a sigh of relief. We only had to worry about crevasses from here back to the tent. Starting off again, we made good progress, despite my crampons balling up as they had the day before. With me in the lead, we marched into camp at 2:30 in the afternoon, ten and a half hours after our start that morning.

Utterly exhausted, Jim and I set about making water again, as Mark fell into his sleeping bag. We would stay at Glacier Camp another night in order to recuperate enough strength for the climb down the next morning. Eating and drinking occupied the rest of the day and as night fell, each of us wrapped himself in his sleeping bag for some well-deserved rest.

The next day we packed up early, wanting to be off the glacier and the hazard of rock fall before 8:30. With Mark setting pace, we flew down the ice and were back at Moraine Camp in a little more than an hour. It was nice to be back where there was liquid water. I set my tent out to dry on the rocks as we filled our water bottles and unpacked our cache. Soon we were back on the moraine ridge and, this time, with the aid of a trail and the descent, we made rapid progress. We passed quickly through the boulder field at the bottom of the glacier (where we met some Czech climbers) and down to base camp and the road.

The climb finished, we dropped our bags to rest in the sun and wait for someone to come by who could offer us a ride back to Yungay. Eventually, a cattle truck rolled down the pass and when we flagged them down, they agreed to drive us back to Yungay. We climbed into the back, hoisting our bags over the side, and took seats on tires or tarps, next to the campesinos who we would accompany on the ride out. The views were fantastic and in a little more than an hour we were back in Yugay, from where we took a combi to Huaraz and our respective hostels.

To see a slide show of photos from our climb on Chopicalqui, check out my Picasa Web Album.