Mountaineering sounds a lot more fun than it actually is.
Don't get me wrong -- there's a lot to be said for getting to the summit of a big mound of rock, snow, and ice (even if it's cloudy as all hell, and you can see only 15 ft. in any direction), but unless you are either:
- a) famous enough to warrant an entire support team dedicated to you
- b) lame enough to have to hire a guide (and porters and cooks) to drag your sorry ass up the mountain
you'll have your work cut out for you.
 Pisco summit, 5752m |
Sadly, I am not in category (a), and luckily, I'm not quite in category (b).
So it came to pass that I had to carry all my own gear and food for four days up an annoyingly steep trail for a lot longer than I wanted to have to hike, avoiding burro poop (both fresh and dried) all the while.
On summit day, the sky at 3:30 AM (when I started) was quite clear. Due to my poor acclimatization, I moved slower than frozen snot, and by the time I made it to the summit at 11 AM, it was enveloped in a gigantic murky cloud. Rather anticlimatic, methinks.
But I made it, eh? So -- Alex's first mountain turned out to be somewhat of a success.
Pisco -- 5752m (18,981 ft)
/Alex
