El Volcán Villarrica

On Saturday morning we woke up to clear skies at 6:30am. We got on the bus around 7:10 and proceeded to the offices of the tour company to gear up for a day of climbing- pants, jacket, ankle-warmers, boots, helmets, backpacks, clampons to strap onto our boots, and piolets (ice-pick/climbing stick). Sure now that whether would not keep us from going, imagine our thoughts: "This will be the coolest thing I have ever done!" "How amazing it will be to see the top of the volcano!" "It will be so fun to slide down when we make it!" etc.

Another half-hour bus ride took us to the base of the mountain, where the guides gave us beginning instructions and the option to cut two hours by taking the ski-lift, which we declined as it cost roughly US$14. We started off just before 9am, walking in single file line in order to create a "rhythm".
From the very beginning we were hiking through snow, but by the first stop we were all sweating from the climb. We stopped for a break around 10 and the guides fastened the clampons (spikes) to our boots,
and told us what to do if we should fall (so we wouldn't slide all the way down the mountain or stab ourselves with the piolet or end up tumbling instead of sliding) and how to use the piolet. By 10:30 we were starting the zig-zag pattern that is necessary to tackle the steeper parts, and I was already exhausted and wondering whether I would make it to the top! All this time we were hiking in and out of clouds/fog, but would often get clear views to the top. I have never seen the sky such a deep, clear blue.
When we stopped at 11, the large group of us (16 total, I believe) started to break up, first into 3 groups- the first 2 of about 6-7 people and the last one just 2 people and a guide. The first group went on, rarely stopping at all, while those of us in the middle would walk a minute or two with 15-20 second breaks (doesn't sound like much, but it was very necessary!) We kept telling ourselves how worth it everything would be when (/if) we made it to the top and had an incredible view and could look into the crater, and how fun it would be to slide back down, and how great we would feel after such an accomplishment! I already realized it was physically the hardest thing I had ever done in my life. For one endless zig-zagging stretch, I would stop, say an Our Father or a Hail Mary and then challenge myself to take 50 steps. You have no idea how difficult 50 steps can be! I think once I even gave up after 20-some!

After a stop probably sometime between noon and 1pm, Jen and the guide in the back of the line started going much slower. I stayed with my group maybe another half hour, and then started falling behind as well. Another guide from our company, Cristian, happened to be at near us then (we were passing him, he was with a woman probably about 70 years old!), and I stopped and he put a band-aid on the blister on my left foot, putting me behind enough to finish the climb with Jen and her guide, Leandro. They were going at a much nicer pace!
(Jen)

We eventually made it to the last main stopping point, nicknamed the "pinguinera" because when people hike in the winter, they are so cold and huddled over by the time they make it that they look like penguins! We didn't know it at the time, but that would be the last place we got a clear view until well on our way back down. From there it takes 1-2 hours to get to the summit. The rest of our hike was defined by whiteness. Besides Jen, Leandro, and occasionally other groups passing us on their way down, all I saw was whiteness for that entire hour. White snow, white clouds, white everything. (This picture is not even the best representation, because you can make out a rocky ridge.) We eventually passed the other two ISA groups, who warned us that there was absolutely no visibility at the top, and although discouraged, we decided to continue on. (I have to admit, I still had hopes of the weather clearing- occasionally we would get a bit of weak sunlight) By this point the wind was fierce. We had already had icicles forming in our hair for some time, and the wind was making the cold almost unbearable. Our guide kept turning to us and telling us "10 more minutes" "Almost there" "We're practically there already" "a few more steps". The sulphur gas from the volcano hung thick in the clouds, turning the air yellow, and we began coughing. Finally, Leandro turned to us and said that the crater was "right there" (I could hardly see him, 10 feet away, so I have no idea where "right there" was) and said that we needed to turn around- "toxic gas, toxic gas". That may have the most miserable moment of my life. Every muscle in my body ached, my lungs were burning, the cold was ridiculous... and all this with no reward at the top. We turned around and started trudging back down. Exhausted, disappointed, and discouraged, it was also scary! The volcano at this point was quite steep, and after zig-zagging back a little we started on a more direct path almost straight down, with our clampons and piolets keeping us from sliding down the mountain. We also began to realize that the snow chutes we had been looking forward to sliding down would not be an option... we could hardly see 20 feet in front of us, it would be too dangerous to slide. Occasionally we would hear the other guide (Cristian) with the old lady yelling for us (they actually made it up!! they were the last- the two girls in our group who were behind us had to turn back), and once we stopped to wait for them but eventually decided to move on. At some points I was still able to marvel at how fascinating it was to be in a world of absolute whiteness- like we truly were in the middle of nowhere- but most of the time there seemed to be this complete sense of isolation and desolation... it seemed that we could end up lost forever on the side of this mountain, wandering endless hours in pure whiteness and utter exhaustion...

We started the descent from the summit around 3:10pm. I have no sense of our timing for that part but I would say that between an hour and 2 hours later we came across a group of Spaniards (the group the old lady was from) with yet another guide from our tour company. Leandro sent Jen and I to catch up with them while he waited for Cristian and the woman. Shortly after that, we finally came out of the cloud cover, and the view from that point was spectacular.Spectacular, but also let us see how far we still had to go! We were hiking straight down a very steep slope- once again, thank goodness for the clampons! Those last hours were awful. After a seemingly endless 3.5 hours after reaching the top of the volcano, we made it to the van waiting to take us back to the town.

Overall, I still haven't completely come to a conclusion on the ordeal. I am still pretty bitter about our experience at the summit, especially when I see my postcard with the aerial pictue of hikers looking down into the crater of the volcano, or pictures from other ISA students' experience last semester. I could hardly walk the day after the volcano, but that has passed, and I still have a large sore from the blister on my left foot. I'm proud of myself for making it to the top, though, and despite the negatives, it was an amazing experience that I will never forget.


The rest of the pictures:
http://pitt.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2155448&l=1ae4c&id=14218621