Tuesday, January 17, 2012

Aconcagua: Base Camp to High Camp

On Aconcagua not much happens between Base Camp and High Camp.  The move takes around two weeks and you do little more than eat, climb, and sleep.  Paul probably summed up the monotonous experience best when at Camp Two he proclaimed:  "I just want to get to the top of this thing so we can finally turn around and come back down."  
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I did, however, manage to take some interesting pictures and videos along the way and figured that rather than writing about what happened I'd describe the experience picture-book style.  

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High Camp.


Our Base Camp was located at Plaza Argentina, a mostly rocky landscape doted with Mountain Hardwear tents.  It wasn't overly picturesque but I did my best:
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The arrival.
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Buddhist prayer flags, which flew from several of the tents.
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Tent life.
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Ditto.
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Night life.
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Pretty sure that's a shooting star but camera shake is a definite possibility.
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Centrally located at Base Camp was Main Street, which, for the most part, was overrun with mules during the day and drunken Argentine porters at night.  During less exciting times it looked something like this:
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Paul on the boulevard.
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Our group had a dedicated mess hall at Base Camp where we'd eat meals and discuss the day's politics (e.g., evacuations, which teams were not going to make the summit, whose taking up to much space in the tent, etc.).  
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One day the discussion changed when we returned to our group tent and found the sobering poster pictured below, which had been used as an educational tool by the guides of another squad.  We were all familiar with the dangers of altitude sickness but had been trying to keep them out of our thoughts.  Seeing this alien-like figure and the descriptions of the various deadly illnesses that lay in wait did not help.  (And neither did the Soviet-era helicopter that made a daily run into camp each day to evacuate climbers from other teams.  As it turned out, those evacuees were actually the lucky ones.  You only get a helicopter ride if life or limb is at stake or you have $1800 to spare; otherwise you have to pay $300 for a miserable day-long mule ride to town.)    
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Odd use of that arrow too.
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Camp One sat at the base of a large rock buttress approximately three hours from base camp.  It was protected from the wind and, all in all, a pretty nice place.  a


Camp One.
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Ridge between Camp One and Camp Two.
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Breakfast at Camp One.
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We found that, after a while on the mountain, it was very easy to lose track of time.  We did not, however, forget that we were away during the holiday season and I generally found it best not to dwell on such things.  As one of our guides said, "Women and food are like gravity.  They only bring you down from mountains; they don't get you to the top."  Looking back on the experience, I'm a little sad to say that the thing I missed the most (apart from my family) was Tim Horton's coffee.  

(As I write this line I'm sitting in a Patagonian hostel thinking that all the "cafe con leches" in the world could never make up for a "large with milk" from Tim's.  I point this fact out to anyone down here that will listen and they all ask, "Is Tim Horton's really that good?"  To which I'm forced to reply, "No, it's not.")

If climbing days are long and boring, rest days are torture.  Your options to pass time are extremely limited and generally include sleeping, eating, playing cards, and perhaps sleeping some more.  Here Paul and I attempt something out of the box and entertain ourselves with the camera.  (Editor's Note:  Mild altitude sickness may have played a role in the creation of these photos.)

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Rest-day fun.
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Camp Two was cold, dry, windy, and desolate -- i.e., pretty much the worst place on earth.  And while it had a nice view of the mountain my pictures are limited as I was generally stuck inside the tent hating life.

The move to Camp Two.

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Still moving.
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Camp Two.  North face of Aconcagua and the Polish Glacier in the background.
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At Camp Two and having no fun waking up to frost-covered sleeping bags.
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In describing Camp Two I should note that complaining on climbing "vacations" is strictly forbidden.  And while it's true that this rule is generally honored in the breach, complainers only get about as much sympathy as that shown by the Dude in this scene of the Big Lebowski:
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Camp Three was much nicer than Camp Two.  It was still cold and windy but at least we had a room with a view (even if it was a little breezy).
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On the move to Camp Three, with Cerro Ameghino in the background.
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Camp Three.  
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The Penitentes Range of the Andes as seen from Camp Three.
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View of the sunset over the Andes from Camp Three.
Chile and the Pacific Ocean are in the background, covered by the clouds.

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We moved to High Camp on New Years Eve, battling a snow storm most of the way.  The sun eventually came out after we set up camp and I was able to pop out long enough to take a few pictures, including the one I led with above.  Then it was back to bed to prepare for our 5:00 a.m. alpine start and push for the summit -- a story I'll save for my final post on Aconcagua:  The Summit and Back.
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High Camp.
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Collecting sharps for the next day's climb.
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A brief moment of sunshine.