Avenue of the volcanoes

Been climbing the local mountains around Quito, slowly building up acclimatization.

Pasochoa, 4200m
This was a green hill with a rocky crag as a summit, could have been the Peak District. It felt foolish struggling through a meadow of flowers while barely being able to hold a conversation. Slowing my pace was the only way to proceed without gasping for air. The sky was completely clear and on summiting we were ringed by a range of volcanoes. Below us two condors circled, while an eagle picked up a thermal and until it was a speck above our heads.

Guagua Pichincha, 4800m
A long more demanding hike up an active volcano. The approach was very pretty, considering the harshness of the environment, the slopes were filled with flowers. Going up the steady incline was fine, but when it steepened my heart really started to work due to the altitude. The last one hundred meters was over loose shale and sand, moving too quickly or energetically made me light headed enough to believe I could black out. The strong wind brought wafts of bad egg smells up from the volcano along thick clouds that temporarily obscured our path.

Ilinizas Norte, 5126m
At last a real mountain. Bought a down jacket as the icy wind was strengthening and an overnight stay in a mountain hut was required. My equipment included: thermals top and bottom, over trousers, harness, gloves and mittens worn together, helmet, harness, coat and rope. There was snow on the mountain, but it was not thick enough for crampons. Ice covered the rocks making them slippery. The mountain hut perfectly defined the word dank; smelly, damp, moisture running down the walls, green mold, no heating and bitterly, bitterly cold. Just four walls and a stove. Inviting as sleeping in a public toilet. We slept fully dressed including our hats. We left an hour before sun rise to ensure the snow was frozen for safe footwork. It should not have been difficult but the wind was intense. At the Pass of Death we had to crawl on all fours to avoid being blown off our feet. The rock was rotten, fragmented and often surrounded by loose sand. On the way down the sun made the ice melt loosing a fist sized rock which bounced off my rucksack.

Cotopaxi, 5900m
This can only be described as brutal. Same kit as before but with ice axe, mountain boots and crampons. The mountain is a perfect cone standing amongst bare barren dusty tundra. Tough hike up to the refuge with all our food and water as again we would be sleeping at altitude. The hut was much better equipped but still no heating and this was at 4800m. Its weird sleeping this high, eating saps all your strength and you wake often struggling for breath.
We left at 1am again to ensure solid ground. The climb was a relentless face at 45 degrees for hours on end. No shelter. Kick right foot in, kick left, move up, ice axe in, the head torch illuminating just a small patch of snow immediately in front of you. To rest, sink the axe shaft deep and hang there as spin drift stings your eyes. The wind continues to strengthen, viciously cold, the guide quickens our pace in an effort to beat the weather. My heart rate is at max, the frozen air tears at my lungs. I am left on all fours at times, lungs screaming for air. The ground occasionally opens up with a gaping black mouth, occasionally the axe disappears into the ground finding nothing but air behind the snow. I have to give in, totally devastated, but I had to reserve some strength for the route back. The wind makes summiting suicidal,no one attempts the last 200m. Its just not worth it.

Did not take any photos. Just stopping to drink water was an effort, to stop, secure your self, carefully remove mittens, struggle to retrieve water bottle, just to have a sip and put it back again. Could not leave it handy otherwise it would freeze.