Cotopaxi National Park
Ecuador
Cotopaxi is one of the most well-known volcanoes in Ecuador, its perfectly triangular peak visible from multiple places around the country (we had already spotted it from Quito). While hiking to the top of Cotopaxi was high on my list of things to do, there were other mountains within the Cotopaxi National Park I wanted to explore as well. One of those was Cerro Rumiñahui, a mountain with 3 peaks - north, central and south. Our aim was the central peak, being the easiest to reach and the least dangerous. Though at 4,631 m, it wasn't going to be a walk in the park.
We were staying in the nearby colonial-looking town of Latacunga, only a short drive to Cotopaxi. Arriving at the entrance gate by bus, our only options for getting around the park were a taxi truck or hitchhiking. The latter was popular on weekends, but as today was a Monday we didn't want to risk being stuck at the end of our hike miles from anywhere. So we hired a taxi for the day, with a helpful driver who organised our registration and drove us towards Laguna Limpiopungo at the foot of Rumiñahui. From the moment we entered the park we were in the midst of a fog so thick we couldn't see more than 100 metres away. It didn't bode well for our hike. By some sort of miracle, only one minute before we arrived at the lake, we exited the fog to find sunny blue skies. Both Danny and our driver started cheering and clapping, while I shook my head in disbelief.
The lake was apparently a popular feature of the park, but the small pool of water in front of us didn't appear to be anything special. The 3 rocky peaks behind that, however, were just asking to be climbed. We skirted the lake and marshland for about a kilometre before commencing a gentle incline through tall grassland. It stayed this way for a long time, and we made the halfway point in no time at all.
Cotopaxi was in full view behind us nearly the whole the time. Clouds constantly shifted, exposing parts of its glacial cap but never revealing all of itself at once. Every couple of minutes we turned around to snatch another glimpse of the iconic volcano, taking more photos of this mountain than the one we were climbing.
Once we had crossed over a narrow ridgeline, the real fun started. The incline increased exponentially and the terrain turned into slippery gravel. It was manageable until we hit a wide scree slope that seemed impossible to traverse looking at it from below. The wind was howling, and for every 2 steps forward I slid one step back. The struggle was real. I glanced over at Danny and wondered why he didn't appear to be fighting with the loose rocks in the same way I was. It turned out he had gone right to the edge of the path where the ground was more solid and there were sporadic steps cut into the earth. It still wasn't easy but it definitely wasn't the hell I had been going through. The further up we went, though, the harder it became.
Eons later we reached the base of the final rock that marked the summit. The only way up was to scale the vertical wall, which contained notches barely big enough to hold our fingertips. With finger muscles we didn’t know we possessed we finally reached the top, standing on a narrow rock that was as wide as my boot. I stood there long enough to capture a few photos before jumping down so I wasn’t blown over in the fierce wind. A dark grey cloud had descended over us, blocking the tops of the craggy north and south peaks (both were less than 100 metres higher than us). All we could really see was the valley below. There were no views directly in front of us, including Cotopaxi.
Before we froze to death we began the dreaded descent. We managed to lower ourselves down the rocks, but the scree ended up being one long, slippery slide. I would like to think of it as some form of controlled falling, but I wasn’t sure we had that much control of where our feet ended up. It wasn't overly enjoyable. Once we were back on solid ground it was easy going, and the views towards Cotopaxi were incredible as the clouds gradually lifted. Looking behind us we noticed that the clouds had also disappeared from the top of Rumiñahui. There was no way I was going back up, despite how spectacular the views would have been.
I guess we hiked much faster than our taxi driver expected, as it was a 45-minute wait for her to arrive. Thankfully there was a tiny hut we could shelter in, out of the gale force wind that was whipping up the dust. Once picked up, our driver then drove us to the Cotopaxi car park, sitting at 4,600 m - not far below the peak we had just climbed on Rumiñahui. The most popular walk in the national park is up to the Cotopaxi refuge, at the dizzying height of 4,864 m. From the car park it was a straight but sharp gravel slope to the refuge, less than a kilometre in length. The wind hadn't relented, sending dirt flying into our faces and trying to force us back down the mountain. It wasn't the prettiest hike, but we were gaining valuable altitude acclimatisation.
Half an hour later we reached the refuge, where we asked an employee which direction we should hike to reach the glacier. There were 3 options, he told us, and pointed towards the route that would be the closest and easiest to navigate. We neglected to ask how far away it was before setting off up the volcano. On and on we trekked, seeing the glacier ahead but not appearing to draw any closer. We were a touch under 5,000 metres when we decided to give up, with the trail becoming more treacherous and there being no one around if we slipped and fell. The peak above was glistening in the sun, and the details in the glacier were fascinating. Hopefully, in a couple of days' time, we would be standing on that ice on our way to the summit.
From the refuge we took a different path back down to the car park, one that zigzagged in a more gentle manner. On the way we passed a long line of hikers trekking up, their bulging backpacks indicating that they were attempting the summit tonight in time for sunrise tomorrow. It appeared as though they were struggling already. I was looking forward to it.
The peak of Volcan Cotopaxi is 5,987 metres above sea level, which is just 2 metres higher than my tallest peak so far, Mt Kilimanjaro. However, climbing Cotopaxi would be a little different, as the presence of glaciers meant it required specialised equipment that we weren't overly familiar with (although we had heard this was as good a place as any for beginners to gain experience in how to use this gear). On top of this, we were extremely concerned about the altitude. Had we spent enough time at elevation over the last week to successfully make the summit? Time would tell.
The day before the hike we collected all of our equipment: crampons, gaiters, helmet, harness, ice axe, filtration mask - things were starting to get serious. Even if we didn't know how to use half the stuff, at least we looked the part. Our guide, Wolf (or Lobo in Spanish) was extremely experienced. He had summited Cotopaxi 962 times, and was hoping to achieve the record of 1000 summits next year. He answered our million and one questions and seemed pretty relaxed about the whole thing.
The walk from the car park to the refuge was much harder than the first time. With the weight of our packs dragging us down, it took significantly longer to reach our accommodation. The refuge wasn't heated at all, so we put on all of our warm clothing and waited for dinner alongside 3 other groups. Apart from a brief break in the clouds late in the afternoon, views were almost non-existent. Once we had eaten it was off to bed at 6.30 p.m., which was a little disconcerting as it was still light outside.
Surprisingly, I managed to grab a few hours’ sleep before the 11 p.m. wake up call. Extracting ourselves from our warm sleeping bags wasn’t the most enjoyable experience. We threw on every piece of clothing we had brought with us, including the helmet and harness, ate a quick snack of a bread roll with jam, then ventured out into the dark just after midnight. I don't know what the temperature was but it was definitely in the negatives. The bone-chilling wind didn't make us feel any better.
The trail commenced on a scree slope, similar to the path to the refuge. We had our ice axe in one hand and hiking pole in the other, helping us to stay upright and drag ourselves up the volcano. It didn't take long for icicles to form on our clothes and bag, and for the water to freeze in the tube from my water bladder. Just under 2 hours later we stopped where the glacier commenced. Crampons went on (with assistance from Wolf - we had no idea what we were doing) and onto the glacier we went.
When we signed up for this trek, I presumed the only things that would stop us making the summit were the altitude or the cold. It was neither of these; it was the glacier. Not having had any experience walking on a glacier at a vertiginous angle, we didn't really know how to combine the crampons and ice axe in a way that would work in our favour. I slowly started getting the hang of kicking my boots into the ice, but I never felt confident that the spikes would actually hold me in place as I moved the opposite foot. Danny was having an even harder time, not being able to gain a solid grip and resorting to using all fours to raise himself up the slope. Wolf was doing all sorts of fancy rope work to help us but it was to no avail. I felt I was becoming slightly better the further we went, but Danny was struggling to pick up the technique. It didn't take long for Wolf to point out that it wasn't worth going on as we would never make it before the cut-off time (in the morning the sun starts to melt the ice, creating unstable conditions). If someone with 962 successful summits (and who knows how many unsuccessful ones) tells you that you probably won't make it, you'd be wise to listen. Danny was in full agreement. As we had to stick together as a team, I followed the consensus and we commenced the descent. It was bitterly disappointing that I couldn't have tried going on a little longer to see how far I could have climbed. In the end we had made it up to 5,300 metres, achieving just over 40% of the elevation gain required. I would have to be content with that.
Going down the glacier wasn't much easier, and we were both relieved to rid ourselves of the crampons at the bottom. From there it was a series of long sliding steps through the scree, reaching the refuge by 4.30 a.m. A couple more hours of sleep, a quick breakfast then it was down to the car park, out of Cotopaxi National Park and back to our hotel in Latacunga.
