Aconcagua
Mendoza is a tranquil tree lined city with many outdoor cafes and restaurants that seem to be permanently filled with local people living the good life. The daily routine is a little different from us, with shops open from 9-12:30 then closed all afternoon only to reopen for a few hours in the evenings. This completely threw us as we intended to spend our first afternoon accumulating gear for Aconcagua. Our plan was to get the extra gear we needed that day then go up to altitude and get a little aclimatisation in before meeting up with our expedition group. This soon proved impossible. We spent 3 days getting the gear we needed and trying to get in touch with Jon Muir, our expedition leader. We were foiled by the lack of an effective communication system, but it was no matter.
Actually I did see Jon in the street once and pointed him out to Marty. He told me not to point at the homeless man... As soon as we got back to our hostal I looked Jon up on the internet and found a photo. Marty was flabbergasted to find that I had been right - that was actually our guide. It was a little frustrating actually as we had lots of questions about rentals we wanted to make and that would have been the perfect opportunity to sort a few things out. Jon is an incredible adventurer who is famous for having traversed both poles (that is the North and the South ones ;)), summited Everest and traversed the entire continent of Australia on foot. This last was made into a movie that has won many prizes and awards. It was an honor to be in a group that Jon was leading.
In between shopping in the many outdoor shops, we dined in many of the restaurants. One thing Argentina is famous for is it´s absolutely enormous steaks that you can buy for the price of a drink at home. Incredible amounts of food are dished up for almost nothing - it is brilliant - especially when fattening up for a mountain climb. The most famous thing to eat in Aregentina is steak. By ordering a bife de chorizo, you end up with half a cow on your plate and usually for less than $10. One place in particular which has now become Marty´s favourite restaurant, is a huge warehouse with kitchen stations in the middle and tables around the outside, for about US$6 you can eat all you want from ready cooked food or from on duty chefs cooking stuff up on the spot. Superb!
The day before we were due to meet our climbing group we saw Jon again, in a supermarket this time. Our other guide Angel Armesto (a very prestigous Argentinian mountain climber with many first and solo climbs to his name) was also there. In two minutes we found out what we needed to know. We also got to pass rather dubious looks at their shopping trolley which looked remarkably empty for the expedition food shop they claimed they were doing.
The following day we checked out of our hostel and into the Crillion where the adventure was to begin. We had a briefing at 6pm where we met our fellow climbers. I was completely intimidated. I was the youngest in the group and all the others (5 gentlemen and 1 lady) were experienced and hardened mountain climbers or athletes. Margaret had summited Ama Dablam in Nepal as well as Mt Aspiring in NZ among many other adventures. John was a serious athlete in terms of cycling and running and had just been on a mountaineering trip in NZ where he had had avalanche danger foil an attempt on Mt Aspiring. Rick was a glider pilot with more Australian records than Thorpe (which he didnt mind telling everyone), and had spent several months climbing Fitzroy in Patagonia - very serious climbing that involved sleeping in hammocks on the side of rock faces thousands of meters up! Warren was an experienced rock and mountain climber who had summited Ama Dablam at the same time as Margaret as well as half a dozen other high altitude peaks. Nigel, the train driver from Sydney was an experienced trekker with the Kakoda trail in Papa New Guinea and Kiliminjaro under his belt and Adam like us, had also trekked to Everest Base Camp. We had to return to our rooms to drop off kit bags and I nearly didn't come out again. My stomach was in knots at facing such a crowd. I was really nervous that I would be the weak link in the group and hold everyone back.
Next we had a date down at Peirobon Outdoor Store for rentals and a few last purchases - like pee bottles. Pee bottles are a major piece of equipment used when it is too cold and stormy to make it outside the tent, or, you are too lazy to bother. They are a brilliant idea and I would highly recommend one for everyone... Anyway, the owner of Pierobon is a keen and experience mountain climber himself and actually found a mummy out on the slopes that is now regarded as an important part of Argentina´s historical legacy - there was a lot of controversy surrounding it as some people wanted to send it up to America, but that stance was fought and the mummy remains here near Mendoza. We had the honor of this guy fitting us out with sleeping bags, waterproofs, plastics (mountaineering boots with soft inner boots and hard plastic outer boots), crampons and ice axes. It was quite a mission and we were given a ride back to our hotel just in time to meet the other guys who were heading out for dinner. We went over the road and had huge steaks with fries and salads. I came upon a not so attractive side of Argentinian culture that night. When we were done, I, the only female at the table (Margaret hadn't made it out), quietly asked for the bill. The next table finished, asked for the bill, recieved it and left with no sign of our bill - so I asked for it again. 15 minutes later still no bill. Marty went in to see what happened and the bill was brought immediately. Apparently girls don't have to pay for their meals here ;)
The morning had us all out ready to get our Park passes and go. We packed our bags into a mini van and went down to the rangers office. Every year the rules and regulations for entering the park containing Aconcagua change, so we weren't quite sure what to expect. This year they needed to personally sight each one of us which wasn't a problem. The problem came in the form of paying. To make a payment they needed an armed guard present and it took a little time to locate one. This didn't bother me as it meant I could sit over the street and drink coffee for a couple of hours - enough time to finally wake up. Rick scared us all with stories of how we could all get frostbite and die on the mountain. Eventually it was all sorted, so we went by Jon's apartment and picked up the supplies, then at last, we were driving out of Mendoza.
Our destination this second night was a small town named Penitentes after the strange snow formations that look like priests bearing penance. It sat at 2700m and had a ski field across the road which we all walked up to stretch out our legs. A warm up for the grueling days ahead. The hostal we stayed in was pretty rough, but it cooked up a fairly good dinner. The staff had a party afterwards keeping everyone except Marty and I awake as we had ear plugs in. In the morning we were up for the agreed breakfast time - but the staff weren't - eventually they emerged and unlocked the kitchen, hungover and dark. They played Metallica as they served up cornflakes - I think Jon added those to their menu as they are unfindable anywhere else.
While the mule drivers loaded our gear, we went for a drive up to see a natural bridge made of calciated rock. Usually formations like this are seen in caves, but this one had been exposed to daylight due to the cave collapsing and because of the extremely dry environment, the calcium remains. We also visited the climbers cemetery. A lot of Japanese people had memorials there. It was a little eery but seemed the right thing to do to pay our respects to those past before attempting the mountain ourselves.
After pasta and tomato sauce for lunch we were driven to the trail head. The sun was strong and bright in the clearest of blue skies. I just had a shoe string top on and Jon told me to cover up more. All I had was a thermal top which cooked me! It did save me from being sunburnt though. The beginning of the walk took us up the Valle de Vacas or Valley of the Cows. Originally the customs for Chile checked livestock at the head of this valley, but a lot of people used it to smuggle cows around the check point giving the valley it's name. A wide river flowed down the middle and the sides rose steeply, at times red and at times grey. The rock formations on the valley side were beautiful. It took us around 5 hours to reach the first camp. I was knocked over backwards to discover they had rigged up flushing toilets - pretty flash! After a bit of a wait for the mules to arrive with the main percentage of our gear, Jon gave us a tent erecting lesson. The tents we used were awesome. Built to withstand high winds and strong mountain storms, we used rocks to hold them down rather than pegs, and believe me, there were plenty of rocks to use. Inside they had an inordinate amount of pockets and lines to dry out wet things on - it was all quite brilliant and made our own extremely light weight and pocket free tent stand wanting. Dinner was a shared barbeque with the mule drivers. Argentinian people eat an incredible amount of meat! Marty and I both hoed in and ate all we could before retiring to our brand new rental sleeping bags.
Jon gave us a wake up call at 6am. We stumbled out of the tent in the predawn to cups of tea and cornflakes before breaking camp. John was ill with a sinus congestion and had breakfast in his tent. Today's walk took us over a bridge - a small wire affair that was infamous for recently having been broken as 24 American students piled onto it for photo. It was hard to imagine what they were thinking as the water raced in an icily dirty fashion below and the bridge barely looking like it would support one body. Somehow only two of them actually fell in which is a small miracle. The river was ferocious enough to take 8 mules lives the season before - they were lucky not to be seriously hurt. From there the valley opened out into wider flats. Lots of sweet smelling flowers were out and little brown lizards scurried from our path. There are yellow and green lizards too but I never saw one. It was a long hot day and we were all pretty tired. At lunch we stopped near a dirt bank where we tried to eke out a little shade. John gave us all a fright by spitting out blood after coughing - but it turned out he'd just bitten his tongue. He had caught a terrible cold and the blocked sinuses were severely holding him back.
We got our first view of Aconcagua a few minutes before the second camp. It was beautiful, a smooth white mound against a cobalt blue sky. The casa de piedra (stone house) campground was a little windier. Warren, Rick, Marty and I had a few of the tents up before the last of the group trudged in. It was harder to be that keen at tent building higher up. The toilet here wasn't quite the royal throne of our first camp. Instead it was a couple of wooden boards over a hole. A lot of speculation went on as to how someone managed to get a brown smear so high up the back of the two sided shelter... This night we got out some deck chairs and sat around, enjoying raviolli in a bacon and cream sauce, the first of many delicous surprises from Angel's camp kitchen.
The next morning brought another 6am tug on the toes from Jon. After our cups of tea and cornflakes we took camp down and prepared for the last leg to Base Camp otherwise known as Plaza Argentina. The first up thing was to cross the river. It had braided out across the valley so wasn't too deep, but it was freezing! There was ice on all the stiller braids. Fortunately Jon and Angel were able to negotiate with the friendly arrieros (mule drivers) and negotiate a ride across the river for us. They saddled up two mules and led us across. It was a welcome diversion from walking and we were all happy not to be suffering the agony of cold that other less lucky climbers seemed to be suffering from the crossing.
From there we wound our way out of the cold shadows up a steep valley toward Base Camp. The path was a narrow trail on a scree slope above a fiesty river, but didn't pose any problems. We stopped by a river for a break. Just as we were leaving a group of US doctors showed up. We were disgusted when one of them took a pee right by the drinking water. We wound up a little further gaining a spectacular view of our mountain; after a river crossing the valley opened out a little. Next to a creek we stopped to fill our water bottles by, lush green grass abounded. Jon caught us from throwing ourselves down on it just in time - in reality it was a nasty prickly plant that only looked like grass. We stopped for lunch at a scattering of rocks Jon named the Japanese Garden. It was serene lying under the clear blue sky and eating cheese and ham sandwhichs. From there it was only a couple more hours of gentle slope up to the camp. As we rounded a corner of the valley all growth disappeared and instead red and grey rocks and scree rose up all around broken only by patches of unmelted snow still above. We rounded a gravel ridge and walked up it to see Base Camp, until then completely hidden, sprawled out beneath us. A small town of tents and a few more permanent metal shelters filled the depression. Unfortunately Nigel and Adam didn't see where we walked up the ridge and continued up the valley for almost 1km before turning and seeing Jon and John climbing the ridge to the camp. Realising their mistake they trudged back, but the extra exertion at this altitude of 4000m cost them a lot of energy and they were pretty tired.
Some of us had headaches but mainly we were ok apart from John whose cold was still pretty bad. We put up the tents then helped put up the superdome - the dining room and guides bedroom and general meeting room for the expedition. It was a great place to hang out and be social. Previous expedition groups had written comments on the walls which made for entertaining reading. We all were resting in our tents when Jon came around to rouse us for cups of tea. Some other peoples tents were the same as ours and he went into the wrong tent. Jon has long hair and a wild beard and while hiking, covers his face in zinc. This day he had blue zinc and looked like Mel Gibson out of Braveheart. He unzipped the vestible, saying 'come up for a cuppa...' then unzipped the inner tent. Three Scottish guys were on their backs fast asleep. One sat up and seeing Jon said 'Whuu tha foook are yuu?!?'. This story had us all laughing for hours.
The next day was a rest day. We did laundry in icy cold river water, bathed and even washed our hair. We filled up a large blue barrel for general cooking and drinking water. In the early afternoon we had a crampon trying on session. Mostly we just sat around the superdome and ate pancakes which ran into a pasta lunch which ran into a dinner of fried bajis - delicous!
Our next day was a little tougher. The sky was still blue for us so we were given sacks of supplies to carry up to Camp 1. It was only a load carry so once up there we would stash the supplies then return down to Base Camp for the night. The load carries we did were an important part of acclimatisation. The walk up wound over the base of the Polish Glacier. At this point it was mainly a rocky crust covering the ice so we didn't need crampons. Penitentes rose in fields up the valley sparkling in the sunshine. When Base Camp fell out of sight behind us we could see the rocks hiding Camp 1 high above us. Usually the walk involved a tough scramble up a scree slope but we were lucky to be able to go up through the more solid penitentes. On the way up Marty stopped for a breather and found himself toppling over backwards. He knocked over a penitente and fell down into an icy crevasse with his legs up in the air. With his heavy pack weighing him down he was well and truly stuck. I laughed so hard! Unfortunately Marty had the camera so I couldn't snap him while he was down. I had to retrace my steps and give him a bit of help to lever himself out. Even with the easier track through the penitentes everyone was pretty tired at the top. As we stashed our gear the sky turned a dirty grey above us and snow began to fall. The flakes were dry and furled up like rose buds. We made our stash then began our descent. Adam was a bit wiped out by the altitude so hung back with Jon and John. The rest of us kept up with Angel. Just before arriving back in Base Camp he took us by a large snow cave. It was dirty and had the river of brown muddy water raging through it. Even so we went in for a quick look. Shortly later Adam, John and Jon had to run out of the way as a huge boulder loosed itself above them. Luckily noone was hurt, the rock slide was quite a slow one.
Back down at camp Angel cooked us up a Brazilian dish of black beans with pork. We all ate and retired as soon as it grew dark as we were a little bit tired.
Day 6 was reserved as another rest day. This one ran slightly like the first, washing and bathing were done. We refilled the blue barrel. In the afternoon Marty and I played cards down in our tent then regathered at the superdome for blue cheese pasta and vegetables followed by the deluxe meal event of the entire expedition: a caramel and chocolate custard with rum and walnuts - and too much to go around. Margaret had me laughing as she told Nigel, a few months older than I, that the reason he didn´t like wine was because he was too young and his taste buds hadn´t matured yet.
Day 7 we were woken at 6am to pack up camp. Today was the big move up to camp 1 and the sky was looking clear and blue again. We were having a pretty good run so far with the weather. We had our usual tea and cornflakes for breakfast then leisurely broke camp for a 9am start. The walk started well, but into the moraine I had a bit of a problem breathing. Marty hugged me and got me to breathe in time with him which helped a lot. Angel got me to adjust my pack straps which also helped. Mainly I think I was just panicking at the enormity of the climb ahead and the thought of sleeping in thinner air. Also the thought of being left behind if I couldn't keep up gave me cold dread.
The penitentes had melted down a lot since we last climbed on them making the path up even easier than our load carry day. When we got up to Camp 1 we found a very full campsite and the the tent sites we had reserved had been taken by another group who had had their sites poached beforehand. The result was we had to level off new sites, most of the guys were pretty angry but I couldn't help thinking that we would have done the same. Our gear stash had been a day without us using the sites so it would be a bit wasteful for the sites not to be used. Even so, sharp words were spoken. Angel and Jon were pretty relaxed about it. Once we got the tents up dirty big clouds covered the sky and after a tea drinking session followed by a dinner of rice, potatos and pumpkin soup, snow began to fall on us. John was looking a bit grey and had no appetite, Nigel had a slight headache, but the rest of the crew were in good shape.
Day 8 was set aside for a load carry up to Camp 2. Camp 1 had been covered in a layer of snow overnight and it was really cold out. Jon had mercy on us and let us off our early start until the sun came out to warm things up a little. I was more than happy to stay cocooned in my sleeping bag next to Marty and knock back the cups of tea brought our way. Finally we had the call to move out. The track up to the col looked like a gentle easy gradient but it was steeper in reality and we trudged very slowly upward. At the col some of the gear was off loaded (not mine unfortunately) and stashed next to a yellow sulphur stained lake. We went a little further up and where I had thought Camp 2 was, we had a halfway break! We went on up and up until we all cried to stop for a break. We hunkered down from the wind beneath a rocky outcrop. Nigel, who had been saying half an hour before he'd go up to the summit as he was feeling so good, wanted to head back down but Angel gave him a pep talk and he was able to carry on. After our cheese and ham sandwhiches we got up into thinner air. Rick was trying to get someone to agree to carry him back down on summit day. At around 5600m Marty started throwing up. He carried on and made it to the camp but he was pretty white and shaky when he got there. Angel wanted to take Marty´s pack but he overcame his physical feelings enough to continue with his pack and put on the speed necessary to make it up the last traverse and climb up a waterfall. At 5900m this is a true sign of inner strength. Adam and Nigel were looking a bit done in too. John and Jon had turned back earlier, so Angel grabbed Margaret and Warren's help to retrieve an old gear stash. He left us with hurried instructions to Rick to 'Get those boys down!´Marty had thought we were descending as a group and I didn't know what I was doing - we decided it was cold and the weather was packing it in so we headed down. It was the right decision. We took it pretty easy and after half an hour or more Angel caught us up. Warren and Margaret came running down behind. From there it was a fun downhill on scree. Getting back to camp was a relief and Jon had hot cups of tea and a big congratulatory welcome waiting. Also waiting was the sad news that John was heading back down to Base Camp and maybe Mendoza as he was too ill to make it up at high altitude and there was a risk of pneumonia. Rick had thought he was having us on a bit but that proved not the case. Angel took him back down, it was sobering to realise that we weren't going to stand on the summit as a group. We all retreated to our tents. Although it was early Jon brought around 4 cheese raviolli, then we crashed out completely.
Day 9 was snowing. We woke up to an offer of tea handed in to our tent with a flurry of snow by Jon. He brought us around cornflakes also. We passed the time playing cards and dozing. Jon brought cheese and crackers for lunch then we didn't hear a lot from him. Around 4pm the snow stopped so we put on our gear and stepped out. Jon had come down with the knock-out cold. This was bad news as he was the mainstay of the expedition. In some ways it brought him down from superhuman status to human, however he still ran circles around all of us. Soon the weather closed in again. Marty and I went out again to take dinner around for Jon, but otherwise everyone stayed very low.
Day 10 was moving day to the col. At 8am everyone was up and moving around. I managed to scam having tea and breakfast set up by our vestible so was able to help myself from bed. The snow lay in a thin crust but the sky was clear. We packed up camp slowly, then just as we got our tent into it's bag, powdery snowflakes began to fall again. Angel reached us from Base Camp at 12pm so we began our ascent to the col. Trudging up through the lightly falling snow was tranquil. The mountain was very quiet. I found it a lot easier heading up this time - the benefit of acclimatisation - and was able to get into a really good hiking rhythm. Reaching the col brought on a flurry of tent building as the weather deteriorated. Once again, others had arrived first and used the best tent sites, but we didn't take long to clear new sites and get the tents up. The weather fell apart. It snowed and blew, the wind whirling snow into our vestible filling it and covering our packs. Inside condensation froze on the inside of the tent creating crystals. We watched the snow blow up the sides of the tent then fall back down again as the wind shook the tent. Thunder growled right overhead. Marty's head ached a little so he had a panadol.
We woke in the morning to the condensation melting and dripping down in fat soaking drops. The internal rain drove everyone out into the icy sunshine before too long. The sky was a deep blue and the sun grew stronger by the minute. Up here there were no toilets and we had to use poo bags - supermarket bags that had handles to tie in knots after the dirty deed. The guys had all kinds of problems squatting and the general consensus was that a good rock to hold onto was worth it´s weight in gold. It didn't seem such a problem to us girls. We had a slow morning allowing the sun to burn the moisture from our tents. Our sleeping bags dried in minutes when we draped them in the sun despite the puffs of snow that playful gusts of wind threw upwards.
After cheese and sardines for lunch we began our walk up to Camp 2. Climbing up from the col was beautiful with a path already tracked out in the snow, to follow. As we ascended up Angel´s mountain came into view - an icy sharp wedge against the blue of the sky. This was so named as Angel had made the first solo ascent and was one of only four people to ever summit it, and the only living person to have summited it. It held a fat base but the peak was a thin slice of rock that required great technical skill to ascend. I loved this days walk. I got into my stride and went for gold. It wasn't so rosy for others though. Margaret threw up the entire way up. Nigel had a bad headache. Warren slowed down a lot this day though he said he felt fine. Rick was going strong though kept telling us all he would need a ride back down. Adam kept a steady pace going at the rear but the altitude was sucking his strength dry. Marty was doing great and I took great joy in turning to see him hiking up strongly behind me.
We stopped for a break at our lunch spot of before at about 5600m. Jon mentioned to Angel he didn't like the look of the weather. I couldn't believe it as there were only a few innocent looking puffy clouds peeping high over the ridge above us. Jon knows. As we began the final traverse the sky turned a tea bag brown colour and the sun was blocked out. Though tired, Marty and I were up at the camp first with Margaret and Rick right behind us. We threw ourselves into putting up the tents. By the time Marty and I got to putting our own tent up we were exhausted. Snow was falling and a strong wind blew it hard into the small exposed part of my face. We had balaclavas on at this stage and all our dry gear. Warren gave us a hand with our tent of sorts, but we were really left to our own. By the time I got our packs into the vestible and Marty had tightened up our guy ropes I was really cold and upset. This extra exertion proved fatal for Marty, though we didn't know it yet.
In our tent we lay shivering in our sleeping bags, rubbing feeling back into our feet and shuddering with the tent at the huge gusts shaking us. Snow completely obliterated our vestible and floated in through the zipper left open a few inches for ventilation. Angel brought us tea in a cloud of snow. Later, after 9pm when it was dark, he brought around mashed potato with tuna and cheese. His huge serves were a struggle to finish but I could feel the food warming me immediately. It made Marty feel a bit nauseaus but replete at least. I lay listening to the storm raging on, afraid to sleep. Ice formed from the condensation again, but this time it formed larger jagged crystals that constantly showered us. I felt worried about our sleeping bags getting wet when it was so cold, but was powerless to do anything about it. I lay in hope of the sun being out the next morning, but the wind didn't abate.
At 4am I woke gasping for breath. The air is definitely thinner at close to 6000m but there is still air. I had to think about how there was enough for me to breath and try and calm myself. However in my fear, I woke Marty, I needed his reassurance. He had a headache so we decided that as a panadol had worked the night before, it was worth trying again. I lay back down and willed on the day. At 6am, on daybreak I am not sure if Marty woke me or if I just turned to look at him, but he was really ill. He told me he had a migraine, but his face and left hand were paralysed. He was slurring his words. After telling me his symptoms he said he thought he may be having a stroke. Although it was early, he was looking so bad I didn't hesitate about pulling on my gear and going to alert Angel and Jon. I called to Angel as I knew Jon wasn´t too well and told him Marty was really ill. I described the symptoms and both Angel and Jon reacted straight away. Angel put on his gear and came over to our tent to do a medical check. Jon started the snow melting for water to get us down the mountain and get everyone hydrated with tea before we went down. In a tent next door, Angel´s friend Matoko, another very good mountaineer and guide heard my call for help. He was going down with two French clients after a failed summit attempt and he offered his services to help.
I stood outside praying then calling out comforting words to Marty. The sky held waves of cloud but it wasn't so cold now with the rising sun behind them (don't get me wrong, it was still damn cold and my feet went numb just standing there). The snow that from inside I had thought was still falling was blown by the wind from the ground and no more was coming down. The Andes stretched out before me. All I could say was 'Please God give back Marty his health.' I couldn't bear to think that he really had had a stroke, yet I know the symptoms as well as anyone. Although it was only a couple of moments, it was a huge relief when Angel arrived. He performed a few tests then gave the prognosis of altitude sickness. It wasn't a stroke at all. I was so relieved! But this relief was shortlived. Marty was in a really bad way and slipped in and out of lucidity. His slurred speech became nonsensical. The worst thing was that he wanted to go out of the tent. Although it wasn't snowing it was still so cold and windy it required full weatherproofs to be out in it. Marty went out in his thermals and stood on the snow in one boot outer and one sock. I don't know if my tears got through but he got back into the tent eventually and I convinced him back into his sleeping bag. Then he sat up and threw up into the vestible. I was thinking it was time to get more help when Jon arrived with his trusty pot of tea. At first Marty answered his questions lucidly and I almost relaxed, but then it all fell apart. Jon was extremely reassuring and recommended I pack our packs and we would leave as soon as possible.
At this point I got really frustrated as Marty prevented me from simply getting our stuff into our bags. What was usually a 20 minute job was barely begun half an hour later. I couldn't get Marty to put on his gear. Fortunately Angel stepped in and got Marty sorted out then left him seated on a rock while I hastily threw everything in my pack. In Marty's pack he had only a sleeping bag, mats and empty pee bottles. As I got our sleeping mats out, the others struck our tent to carry down. Nigel was joining us as his headache was still quite bad. Angel was to accompany us down the waterfall which had frozen and across the first traverse. Once there the idea was that the drop in elevation would be enough for Marty to be recovered enought to be able to walk himself. The others wished us luck and us them, though Marty was removed at this point. He told me it was like looking through a long tunnel. Occasionally faces would appear at the end of it but he was unable to make himself respond.
Angel roped him up and slowly we made our way down the waterfall. It took a long time - an eternity. Jon had warned me it would be slow but it was hard to curb my impatience. Marty could only walk a few steps before collapsing. Angel told me to go ahead and break trail. I tramped ahead and waited at a rock about 50 metres away. Marty wasn't looking too good when he got there. I continued to break the trail for about 20 metres as I wanted to see him down really quickly, so he would be himself again. Matoko arrived with his two clients and there seemed to be a lot of talking going on. I took out the camera and took a couple of photos. At long last Nigel began to descend as the guides helped Marty up. Nigel told me they had just given him an injection. I was thrown and began to cry again, but ran out of breath so laughed instead. I somehow had to distance myself from what was happening and at that moment until Marty was ok again I had to ignore the reality of how ill he was and pretend it was ok. He was in good hands. The injection was of dexametazone, a type of speed. Even with this help, Marty was still only to take 10 to 20 steps before collapsing again. Angel and Matoko supported him on each side while Jon held him roped up from behind. The slope down was steep and slippery but the descent was very controlled. There was no way we could go on without Angel's help - I wasn't strong or sure footed enough to support Marty and Nigel was carrying a heavy pack also - so at this point he stayed with us.
Realising it was taking too long, Matoko and Angel constructed a sled from our sleeping mats and a sack. Marty was seated on it then dragged down. At first he was unable to help, but they were descending at a running pace and as oxygen slowly came back into Marty's lungs and into his bloodstream, he began to improve and was able to help direct the sled, leaning to help it avoid rocky patches and using his hands and feet to keep it going. Jon kept asking him how he was doing and his sole reply was 'yeah'.
At the bottom of the snow, in the morraine close to Camp 1, Marty was able to stand up and walk himself. This was quite a triumphant moment as it meant the guides wouldn't have to carry him down on trails built for one. He was absolutely exhausted and very quiet, but his words were clear and logical now. Marty was back. He was able to pick out the path back to camp where a group of rangers were waiting with oxygen. Angel had radioed them from just below Camp 2. Our group drew a few looks. I felt bad for Marty as he was the center of the circus, and at the time I thought he was embarrassed by the situation, but actually he was still quite unaware. From there the rangers and some of Angel and Jon's friends from Inka expeditions helped Marty down. He remained roped up but they gave him oxygen as he walked and he was able to go far before collapsing.
Halfway down to Base Camp it was decided we would go ahead with Angel and an Inka guide/porter named Augustine to set up a tent for Marty to rest in when he got down - or at least that was how I understood it. In my mind, down at Base Camp, Marty would be resting up and recovering, but in a day or two would be fine and would be ok to walk out with the group. With Nigel, we went ahead. Marty seemed surprised at us leaving, though I had told him why, and sped up as he saw us receding ahead of him. He looked back at Jon a few times to make sure he wasn't on his own. His responses to questions on how he was, lengthened from 'yeah' to 'yeah, shit'.
As soon as we got to camp, Angel raced over and alerted the doctor who lives out there permanently over the climbing season, that Marty was arriving soon. Somehow it was a surprise to me, though clearly logical, that a doctor was necessary. Nigel and I had snacks and drinks in the Inca tent. The crew there were very kind and supportive. We had tipped the tent out ready to put up when the word came that Marty was arriving. I left Nigel to put up the tent and raced over to intercept Marty and walk with him to the doctor's room, a tin shed with a holey mattress in the corner and a few tables and chairs. He was a lovely man named Walter and seemed very competent - a relief to the guides as they had seem some underqualified doctors there in the past. He checked Marty finding a little liquid in the lungs still and a severe case of dehydration. He had vomited the entire way down the mountain and had only sips of water despite the enormous physical exertion required to get down. Jon said it would have been a much easier day walking up to the summit. A drip was fixed up straight away. Marty told me he was cold and thirsty. I got his down jacket and water to sip on and the camera to record the end of his massive journey. Only it wasn't the end. Angel was key in translating between the doctor and us and told us that a helicopter was arriving in 2 hours to take Marty back out to Penitentes town. We were both shocked! I felt distraught - a free service for Marty, it was going to cost me US$350 for a 15 minute ride to go with him. I didn't know what the right decision to make was, particularly since we are at the bottom end of our travel finances. Angel arranged booking a hotel room in Mendoza for Marty and for a pick-up from the helicopter to the hotel in Penitentes. Marty would have to catch the bus himself from Penitentes to Mendoza the following day. I went back over to pack his bag. When I got to the main tent I cried when Jon asked what was happening. He was really great and helped me decide what Marty would need back in town. After talking to him ever so briefly, it seemed ok to let Marty go and join him in a few days when we walked out.
I went back over to join Marty as he sat waiting for the drip bag to empty. We were still feeling unsure in ourselves that he needed a helicopter out, when he threw up a huge amount of black fluid. I felt so awful for him, but I am sure, not as awful as he was feeling. When the drip ran out, he came back over to the main tent. After sitting for a few minutes he needed to lie down, so lay out on our mattresses. I had to keep checking on him. Angel told me the Inka guys would be watching out for Marty as I was worried about him still being sick, despite the doctor giving him an anti-nausea injection intravenously. Twenty minutes later the helicopter arrived and suddenly he was gone.
Marty told me the scenery from the helicopter was incredible. At the other end an Inka guy picked him up and dropped him at the hostel. He hadn't wanted any assistance and arranged his own room - thankfully alone in a dormitory situation. He ate plain pasta for dinner but threw it up. All night he slept deeply, then in the morning sat out in the sun. He was disturbed by the amount of climbers he saw with missing fingers and toes or bad frostbite taped up. He also saw a car crash with a car driving out in the path of a speeding truck. Luckily no one was badly hurt. He caught the bus back to Mendoza. A bit of a mix-up happened where the Crillion where he was going to be staying was booked out. Angel had booked him a room at another hotel but unfortunately no one passed the information on to Marty. He showed up at the Crillion and when they didn't have a reservation for him, returned to our original hostel near the bus terminal. This was the best thing. A group of really nice guys were staying there individually, but got together as a group and had a really great time. Marty was able to relax, talk about his experience with those thinking of climbing the mountain and keep some fun company when he needed it, then have time out when he needed it too. He researched the symptoms he had experienced and came to the conclusion he had had a Cerebal Endema. This is the worst case and would have definitely resulted in death if Jon and Angel hadn't reacted as efficiently as they did. After that first night in Penitentes he recovered pretty quickly. Fortunately for me, he sent an email where he was that I got when we arrived back in town days later.
When the helicopter left, I felt completely alone. I went to offer to buy Matoko a beer or two but he didn´t want it. The camp manager and her partner, from Alaska came and visited Jon and Angel. When they left we ate a late dinner. On dark I went out to my tent. It was creepy going out to sleep in a tent alone for the first time in years. I missed my normal before sleep conversation with Marty and felt worried about him, even though I knew he would be ok.
In the morning I got up for breakfast thinking I heard Nigel up. I felt a bit strange about gate crashing Jon and Angel as the big tent was their bedroom too. Nigel wasn't up, but the guides were so it was ok. I came out just as Matoko was leaving. I was able to thank the French guys for letting Matoko be free to help us. Jon gave Matoko a copy of his book on crossing Australia alone as a thank-you which he loved - a lot better offer than beer :) Angel was rehydrating for his long walk back up to Camp 2. He is an extremely strong guy, but that was quite a walk he was undertaking for one day. The weather was clear down at Base Camp, and I think that day was quite good up on Camp 2 as well according to the reports of the others. It would have been a good summit attempt day, but Marty's life was treated as more important - thank God! - so it wasn't to be. Down at Base we took thinks pretty easy. Everyone was really dehydrated, normally not too big a deal, at altitude it makes everything much harder, so we sat around and drank a lot of tea. After lunch, I wrote in my journal and chatted to Jon while Nigel had a siesta. Later when he came out he played cards with me. The day sped away. That night wasn't so strange to be by myself and I slept well.
The morning brought reports of high winds at Camp 2 and the decision was made not to attempt the summit as it was too dangerous. Some other parties did attempt that day and a few people summited which caused a bit of discontent with a couple of our party on the moutain - however that came later. Down at Base, Jon talked over the rescue with me. The day passed quickly again and uneventfully. We hoped with all our hearts that the weather would clear for a summit attempt the next day. Although it was too late for John, Marty, Nigel and myself, we all would be stoked for even one member to make it to the top. The night was a little gusty and Jon told me not to leave the tent door unzipped.
Morning came around again and I left my tent door open while I dashed up to the bathroom, thinking vaguely to air things out a little. Jon told me not to again as the wind was pretty gusty and building up. I felt pretty stupid - how many times do you need to be told to learn a lesson? Anyhow, word came down from Camp 2 that 80km hour winds were gusting through. It made the small storm Marty and I slept through up there look like a baby. The party was coming down as the forecast was for things to worsen for the next day. It was a crushing disappointment for the group. But, it was the right decision. Everyone made it down safely with no missing fingers or toes. Down at Base we had problems of our own. I was going to walk up to Camp 1 with Jon to recover a gear drop up there. We walked up onto the morraine but he had to stop and cough with every step. That cold was a really nasty one! He made the decision to turn back, a good one as it turned out. I stayed up on the morraine for a short while, watching waves of dust roll through the valley below. The landscape was lunar, red, grey and brown there was no vegetation. Bathroom needs and the interruption of a passing Japanese climbing group took me back down to the camp. Nigel asked if the toilets, tin sheds over longdrops, had ever been blown over. Jon answered not in his memory. Nigel went to his tent to contemplate life. I took the playing cards into the megadome and dealt myself a hand of solataire. Jon was outside fixing up some guylines that had popped off in the last wind gust. Every time a gust rattled the tent he jumped up to support the sides. As the gusts grew stronger I tried to help out a couple of times, though am not sure if my efforts made much difference. Suddenly, an immense gust struck the tent. We both leaned against the sides with all our strength. As I felt the wind press the canvas more strongly than I could hold it out, I screamed. Jon gave me a bit of a strange look at that one. The wind intensified and my side almost lifted me off my feet before ripping out of my hands. The small mountain of rocks and rubble built up over the skirting poured off the canvas and the wind came in under ripping a couple of seams and smashing tent poles. I screamed again. The wind stopped.
Nearby people rushed over to help drop the tent. Nigel came out and asked if we'd survived - he was a bit surprised to find we hadn't. He had been bracing his own tent with all limbs and thought he might have got blown away. We were offered the use of one of Inka's tents. We ate some food then took a break. I fell asleep, half woken by my tent trying to remove itself from the rocks it was securely fastened to. 15 tents were blown over or away from Base Camp that day. I woke up and got up to find that the move of all our gear to the Inka tent had already happened. I sat down for a cup of tea, a bit shamefaced I had slept through all that work. Jon, as always, was pretty relaxed about it. Nigel came in moments before the guys arrived down from Camp 2. They all had rosy, windburnt faces. It was great to see them safe and sound. Jon handed them hot cups of tea as they recounted stories of repeatedly being blown over with their heavy packs on. Angel had a big bruise on one shoulder from one hard landing. Adam's two week growth was full of ice when he walked in the door. Full of life still, Nigel's and my offer to put up their tent was shrugged off and we almost all ended up out there. Margaret was sharing the 2 man tent with me rather than put another up. A huge dinner of hot vegetables was cooked up and Jon poured whiskey all around. The air was celebratory and bed time was late.
I dreamt Marty was giving me a huge hug. When I woke and he wasn't there I felt disconcerted. I went into the breakfast tent but found it really hard to handle the bantering conversation of the group. After the tranquility of the last few days, it was busy and lively. I took a cup of tea back to the tent. I was going up to Camp 1 with Angel to recover our gear still stashed up there. Margaret and Rick went off for a walk up the valley around from Base Camp. The others were all using the rest day to rest. Our 11am start didn't eventuate, but around 12 Angel came and got me and we set off. The walk up was quite good. Angel told me about typical life in Mendoza and I told him a little about NZ and Australia - probably nothing new to him. Frozen waterfalls hung prolifically from the rocky heights. Aconcagua is a dynamic mountain with constantly shifting and changing scenery. The sun was shining and warm, but as we got up to the final approach to Camp 1 a nasty cold wind niggled at us. The penitentes had melted too much to walk through anymore so we had to go up the scree slope. I was glad I had an empty pack to attack it with. In the penitente field, we saw a mangled tent blown there from the day before. Up at Camp 1 we got our gear then wolfed back herrings in tomato sauce on crackers for lunch. A guide from an American group came and asked if we had seen one of their tents - another casualty of the wind. It was late afternoon when we headed down. It was a bit of a long haul and toward the end Angel looked pretty exhausted - the first time I had seen him so. I, of course, was shattered. I felt like my feet were blistering up toward the end. Down in Base Camp again we had tea and warmed up in the big tent. I wanted to crawl away and have some time out - I went to read the book Rick had lent me the night before but he'd taken it back to read that afternoon. Instead I went in and joined in card games with the guys. Angel pulled out some sugar cane liquor that had me pulling faces then followed it up with grappa - a liquor distilled from the grape remains after wine has been extracted - terrible smelling stuff, I couldn't handle tasting it. I got Rick's book back and read a little before sleeping.
It was leaving day. Our morning began at 6am in the predawn. My gear was pretty disorganised but I followed the usual routine of having tea and cornflakes before packing up. Margaret had her gear organised the night before and was on fire to get the tent down. As I was still taking things out, she had it down around my ears. At one point I told her not to touch anything else but she kept going, I felt quite put out as packing and the tent are my domain in my partnership with Marty, while he looks after food and other bits and pieces that always need doing. With that grumpy start, I was ready on time with everyone else. Margaret and Rick stayed back to help Angel with tying up a few odds and ends. The rest of us were sent off along the right direction by Jon. He intended it to be his last expedition up there so I guess he had a few goodbyes to say.
I led the way through the frosty shadows, down the Mars like valley. Turning the corner out opened a vast panorama of green hillsides interspersed with rocks rolling on into the distance. At the far end we could make out the mountain range we would be stopping in the lee of for lunch. I felt good and the others must have too as we all held a pretty good pace. Jon caught us up a ways down the valley and we took some time to look back at the mountain. In no time at all we were back at the river crossing. Rick and Margaret caught us up there but were walking as a team and hung back again. Nigel and I were starting to feel the walk as we got down to the Valle de Vacas. The river crossing there was a bit cold and my keens did their usual unhelpful fill up with stones thing which didn't help, but I made it over without falling in so no complaints. I found I had the hugest blister on my big toe - it pretty much covered the entire toe. Nigel had one to rival it in size on his ankle. Lunch was welcomed immensely. We ate next to a babbling brook on a grassy knoll with the last view of Aconcagua across the valley. It sat innocent against the sky, as enticing as ever.
The walk down to our camp at Pampa Lena was a grind. We walked over river flats with beautiful and interestingly coloured rocks that threw the afternoon heat back up at us. Adam was awarded a speeding ticket by Rick as he had become hard to keep up with now he had enough oxygen to breath again. I trailed Adam into camp in time for the last minutes of sunshine (but not daylight) with muscles too sore to move and blisters too sore to contemplate. I collapsed down next to Warren feeling like I would never move again. Rick and Margaret came down from the shade they had rested in and Rick told us he had complained to Jon about decisions Angel had made on the mountain. He and Margaret were feeling really upset that they hadn't summited, especially in lieu of hearing that others had, on days that were too windy. After they moved off again, Warren filled us in on events. Margaret had been dead keen to go up and had tried to convince Angel not to come back down and on hearing others had summited awarded him the role of bad guy, forgetting the weather was the one not playing ball. To aggravate things, Angel was to catch us up but hadn't arrived in camp and Margaret felt that as he was official camp cook it was wrong he hadn't arrived. He did get into camp on dusk, white as a ghost. He had come down with that diobolical cold and had taken twice his usual time to get down the valley.
Our final morning began with a sleep in until 6:30. I got up and had to laugh as Jon dished tea out to Adam, Nigel and Angel all still in their sleeping bags from sleeping out under the stars. I had to take a photo of the cosy set up - Jon told me not to take photos of the homeless guy... At 9am we moved out. Rick and Angel had a chat while I was there. I was relieved and glad to hear Rick listen and take on board what Angel had to say and treat him respectfully. I walked a way with Rick, a way with Adam, a way with Angel and finally a way with Nigel. I was tired and now really wanted to get out and see Marty. Every step taking me closer to the road brought a lighter heart. We stopped for lunch on the way back to Mendoza and there my humour deserted me. I was worried as Angel called Marty's hotel where he had never checked in. At last we were on the road again and moving on past an oil refinery, past a fancy new razor wire protected suberb, past streets and streets of houses and into our hotel. Jon almost had me in a room with Margaret but fortunately at the last minute gave me a room to accomodate Marty also. In the Hotel Urbana foyer computer I found Marty's email saying where he was staying. Dazed after my long day, I asked Jon what I should do. His answer was to get in a taxi and go get him. I put my bags in my room with Jon's help then did exactly that - fortunately thinking to get the hotel's address before leaving. I got to the hostal and Marty wasn't there! An hour later I was thinking of writing a note and going back to shower as I smelt BAD, when he came in the door from a run. He was so surprised to see me a day earlier than the schedule said. We caught up on each other's stories, checked him out and went back to the Urbana. We bought Mendoza's finest olives and wine to celebrate the life we were granted and had a great night together.
Breakfast the next morning was great as everyone saw Marty again in health this time. We all had to move over to the Crillion and drop off hire gear. The day passed quickly - I went and bought new sneakers and Marty and I jogged around the beautiful Mendoza park lake. That night was the grand final dinner. The official end to our adventure. Before dinner Jon came up to our room and checked Marty was alive and well. I was dressing in the bathroom, but would have like to see them shaking hands - which they did. John was there for dinner too - the first time we saw him since he said goodbye at Camp 1. It was a fun dinner with great conversation right until the end, when there was an explosion from Margaret at Angel. She yelled at him that she wasn't a tourist before Rick hastily pulled her away. The guys had been refilling her wine glass a bit too frequently for her state of mind unfortunately. Things quickly calmed down again and we all said our goodnights and mainly went our separate ways.
Aconcagua was over.
