Camp 2 Day 1: Move to Camp 2

The wind kept blowing through the night but finally started to abate at dawn. I slept much better in part because the tent was more spacious with David having headed back to Base Camp but also because my body was acclimatizing. My plan was to take today’s move at a slower but steady pace and pay close attention to how I felt. There would not be any rest days for the duration of the expedition because your body is unable to rest at the altitudes of Camps 2 and 3 due to the lack of oxygen. You end up losing fitness and beginning to atrophy by just sitting around at those heights.

After packing up we settled down to another breakfast of Argentinean style oatmeal and raisins with seeds. I’m not normally a picky eater but it just didn’t appeal to me. I still had an appetite, which was a good sign, just not for this bland substance we could have used as mortar for the rock walls protecting our tent. During breakfast Tobias and Marcela handed out lunch bags. Above base camp we no longer had group lunches. Each climber was given a bag full of various items like crackers, a wheel of cheese, a sausage stick, granola bars, Oreo cookies, hard candies, and nuts along with Tang and other drink mixes. The idea was to graze all day long while on the trail. We’d stop for breaks every 60-90 minutes and grab a little something to eat in an attempt to avoid lengthy stops or having to unpack and repack any of the group gear. I made it through my oatmeal, but just barely. I ended up augmenting immediately with granola bars in search of some sort of epicurean satisfaction.

Mark had again divided up the community gear and the good news was the piles were getting smaller. But the amount of personal gear we had to keep with us (down parkas and such) to remain comfortable at the higher altitude seemed to be growing so the weight we were carrying was neither a net loss or gain. As we set out I found myself in the middle of the pack carrying on a conversation with Yvan about the nuances of various tomato varieties and picking Kori’s brain for information about Portland, Oregon, her adopted hometown and where I would like to live. We reached Camp 2 sooner than expected and I felt great. Gone were the feelings of hypoxia from two days prior and while I was winded from being at 5,450m (18,000ft), I wasn’t exhausted.

Our tents at Camp 2 with the summit and Camp 3 high in the background

After our tent was setup Mark stopped by all the tents to critique our guyline technique and rock wall construction. In general our configuration was sound but there were a couple ropes Mark suggested we anchor with bigger rocks. Other than the one breezy day at Camp 1, the weather to this point had been sunny and beautiful. We were beginning to believe Mark was exaggerating about seeing climbers dive out of a tent just before it blew off the mountain.
In fact, other than David’s retreat due to altitude sickness things had gone so smoothly we were all beginning to talk as if the summit in two days was a given. Instead meals like the oatmeal caused conversation to turn to beer and pizza at Plaze de Mulas where we would be in just four days. Plaza de Mulas is the permanent Base Camp on the more popular Ruta Normal and as such has lots of amenities like cerveza, vino tinto and assorted sundries climbers begin to crave while on the mountain.

Camp 2 Day 2: Carry to Camp 3

The sky was a bit cloudy and the temperatures had definitely dropped when we awoke the next morning. I had slept very well considering we were at a higher altitude, about six hours. Sleeping high on the mountain can be difficult because of a phenomenon known as Cheyne-Stokes breathing in which you suddenly will wake from an otherwise sound sleep and not know why. With the tent again being filled to capacity and full of down I was quite happy with how much I was able to sleep.

From Camp 2 we could see the massive white rocks of Piedras Blancas at 5,950m (19,500ft). Camp 3 was located behind these rocks and was our destination for the day. During breakfast Mark again separated the common gear for the carry to Camp 3. It was so cold at Camp 2 there were very few personal items to stash. I filled a compression sack with my down pants, summit mitts, chemical hand warmers and Snickers bars to keep me going on summit day along with my warmer weather clothes and Chacos to be worn on the walk out.

The climb out of Camp 2 to Camp 3 was very steep and passed through several snow fields. We were carrying our ice axes and crampons (also known as Glacial Sandals) in hopes of leaving them in the stash at Camp 3. However, there was a very real possibility we might encounter snow or ice on the way up and have to use them. The sun never broke through the clouds and the wind started to blow as we climbed. It was time to switch to some more heavy duty gear. Along with most of the rest of the team I broke out the balaclava, ski goggles and a Gore-Tex jacket. Up to this point Icebreaker jumpers and occasionally a soft shell jacket had kept me warm and protected from the elements. Our guide Mark sat on the steep slope we were climbing watching us all bundle up. He was practically naked in a baseball hat and a pair of rappelling gloves compared to the rest of us.

The group stretched out as we hiked to Camp 3 and I was definitely tired but I felt really good. I had now climbed higher than ever before and with each step I was setting a personal best. We went through the ritual “rock party” of dumping the gear in a mound and collecting rocks to pile on top to keep it from blowing away. From this location was also the first time we could see the Northwest face of the mountain having approached and climbed on the East face up to this point. We were able to look straight down the Ruta Normal and see the congestion of the far more popular but much less scenic route.

We didn’t stay for long and everyone proceeded back to camp at their own pace. We used the “plunge-step” essentially leaning backwards and running down the steep scree and snow covered slope. It felt criminal to descend so quickly when it had been so arduous to climb. Just before reaching camp we came across the remnants of a crashed helicopter and the source of the other name Camp 2 is commonly known by, “Chopper Camp”. It was another reminder of just how thin the air is at this altitude. The blades of the helicopter had been unable to get enough bite on takeoff and had crashed into the side of the mountain.
Dinner that evening consisted of an unremarkable pasta with tuna but was filling after a hard day’s work. We had the entire camp to ourselves except for two tents belonging to a British couple and their guides. Like our team, they were planning to move to Camp 3 in the morning. We all headed to bed early hoping to catch a few hours of sleep. Outside the wind was really starting to howl again.

Camp 2 Day 3: Move to Camp 3 Weather Day 1

When I was able to sleep, I slept pretty soundly last night. Luckily it wasn’t a sense of drowning in down which made sleeping difficult. Instead it was the wind.

I’ve heard people refer to the wind as sounding like a freight train. After last night I understand the saying. We could hear the wind roaring up near the summit and would listen to it grow louder as it swept down the mountain. Then suddenly it would be upon us shaking the tent so loudly we could not hear one another speak. We now understood why Mark had double checked our ropes and rock walls. Had they not been solid I think the tent really would have blown away.

I was quite excited and a bit anxious this morning. I was looking forward to the move to High Camp (Camp 3) because it meant the following day would most likely be summit day. I went through the ritual of dressing for the cold and packing to move camp which involved deflating the Thermarest, wrestling with stuffing my lofty down sleeping bag into a tiny compression sack and then getting everything into my backpack. Last night Mark informed us the plan was to eat breakfast at 9am, take down the tents, distribute the common gear to be taken to High Camp and start hiking. Just as we were ready to leave the tent this morning to grab breakfast Mark stuck his head in with some coffee cake. He said there was a big storm blowing up above us and we would sit tight to wait and see if the weather looked better in the afternoon. If it did, we would move. Otherwise we would take a “weather day” and stay at Camp 2 for an additional night. Our itinerary had extra buffer days figured into it for just this kind of situation so none of us in the tent were really very concerned.

There hadn’t been fresh snow in a week or more and when I got out to look at the summit it was shrouded in a veil of white. The wind was strong enough to pry loose the icy hard packed snow. I was trying to stay outside the tent as long as possible to avoid going stir crazy so I talked to Mark and he estimated the wind to be blowing at 95km/h (60mph) on the summit.

We set about passing time in the tents. At Base Camp Shannon had asked me about my travels and when she heard I was going to Easter Island she immediately asked if I had read Collapse by Jared Diamond because he spends a whole chapter on the demise of the society there. I had read and enjoyed Diamond’s previous book, Guns, Germs and Steel. As I left for South America Willy had just finished reading Collapse and it took him nearly two months because Diamond can be a bit verbose and detail focused at times. I had planned to take Willy’s copy with me to read while we were riding the Great Divide this summer. On a whim as we were leaving Base Camp I had asked Shannon if I could borrow her copy to read in the evenings. She had finished it while at Base Camp and I figured the additional knowledge would make my visit to Rapa Nui (the real name of Easter Island) more interesting. Now with a whole day to burn time in a tent the decision to haul this tome up the mountain seemed to be rather serendipitous.

As the day wore on the storm was no longer only on the summit. It was starting to gust at our camp and temperatures were plummeting. The British couple had already arranged for two porters to walk up from Base Camp to assist with carrying all of their gear to High Camp. While prudence dictated waiting another day before moving, the economics of having paid more than US$700 for the porters to come up only to send them back down and to pay again to have them come up once the weather cleared caused the couple and their guide to make the decision to push on. The weather was bad but it wasn’t terrible.

The guide leading the Brits agreed to radio back to our guides that evening and the next morning to let us know how they had fared and what the weather was like at High Camp. Mark was receiving weather forecasts from Rodrigo via the expedition satellite phone but they were vague and had been wrong in the past. Getting a report from someone at High Camp would be far more accurate. Rodrigo’s forecast did say there would be a break in the weather but it also called for a second storm to blow in less than 48 hours later and it reported winds on the summit gusting to 150km/h (95mph). All we could do was sit in the tent and wait.

At dinner all the clients queued outside of the guide tent with our cups. Dinner consisted of chicken noodle soup, tomato polenta and chocolate pudding. It was pretty tasty but it was also almost the last of our food. When the weather had looked good yesterday we stashed almost all the food at High Camp leaving only enough for a day and a half at Camp 2. After this meal we would have gone through one day’s worth. At least the wind had calmed enough to eat dinner outside. Hopefully the storm would blow through and tomorrow we would be on our way to High Camp and worrying about food would have been a frivolous exercise.

Today was also Valentine’s Day. Hallmark holiday that it is, I think everyone on the expedition would have been happy to be elsewhere, out of the wind and snuggling under much different conditions. Instead we enjoyed a piece of chocolate or a Snickers bar from our lunch bags, hunkered down and tried to keep warm.

Camp 2 Day 4: Move to Camp 3 Weather Day 2

Our Mountain Hardwear Trango 3.1 tents are amazing. The wind was really blowing to beat the band all night long. Yet when morning came the tent was still standing and protecting us from the wind and the storm outside. At times last night it felt like the tent was laying flat as an amalgamation of nylon and aluminum tent poles would press against my face causing me to creep deeper into my sleeping bag.
It had started to snow at sunset and when we got out in the middle of the night all sorts of snow blew into the tent. The climbers in other tents had started using pee bottles at night even before we reached Base Camp. Mark and I had always thought it was a nice opportunity to get outside of the tent and take in the stars. It was mesmerizing to see Orion standing upside down and spotting the Southern Cross is a novelty for those of us from the Northern Hemisphere. But after having to shovel snow out of the vestibule and surviving the wind late night stargazing would come to an end.

It was a very long night. It seemed like the world’s longest freight train took the entire night to pass on tracks which were six inches from our tent. To make matters worse we had a few “condensation blizzards” in the middle of the night. For those who have never camped in cold conditions before the mountaineer seeks to maintain a delicate temperature balance to avoid this phenomenon. Before going to bed each night you obviously want to zip the tent and vestibule doors closed in an effort to keep the body heat inside to stay warm. However, if you close them all the way and do not allow for fresh, and colder, air to blow through that warm air condenses on the roof of your tent. Eventually it freezes and then falls down on to your sleeping bag in the form of snow and ice. So while it seems counter-intuitive, you keep the zippers open just a bit. Determining how much “just a bit” should be really is a fine art. It changes with the temperature each night, the people in the tent and the wind outside. Last night we got it wrong. As we waited for the night to pass with our sleeping bags cinched tightly around we were taken by complete surprise when a layer of ice crystals suddenly condensed and fell from the ceiling through the tiny hole we had all left for breathing and into our faces. Last night wasn’t just a long night. It was a long and miserable night without much sleep.

In the morning there was more than a foot of snow in the vestibule and our backpacks and boots were completely covered. With three people in the tent there is not enough room for us and all the gear so each night we would grab the critical things like boot liners and bring them into the tent. Everything else was left outside to be protected by the single layer of nylon which formed the tent vestibule. I was the first person willing to head outside this morning so I shoveled the vestibule and made my way out to see how the other tents had fared. Once outside the vestibule it looked much the same as the day before. The wind was blowing too much for the snow to accumulate so I could just watch it blow over the edge of the mountain into a deep abyss beyond the cliff outside of camp. No one else was up and about in camp yet.
For breakfast we had breakfast granola bars and left over coffee cake from yesterday. We were essentially out of community food and if we were hungry had to raid our lunch bag. After breakfast Mark radioed to the Brits at High Camp. They had made it through the night but did not feel their tents would survive a second night of such a severe beating from the wind. They made the decision to abandon any summit attempts or thoughts of waiting for a better weather window and were retreating down the other side of the mountain to Plaza de Mulas. The report from the Brits only validated the forecast Mark had received from Rodrigo, this was not weather to continue climbing into and we would stay at Camp 2 for another day.

We still had a food shortage situation to be remedied. While the weather at Camp 3 was miserable it was not anything the guides had not experienced before. Mark sent Marcela and Tobias with empty backpacks and armed with crampons and ice axes up to raid the stash we had worked so hard to build two days earlier. As strong and experienced climbers they were not fazed and actually made the trip up and returned laden with supplies in a reasonably quick time. We now had enough food to make it through the remaining time available to stay at Camp 2.
Meanwhile, everyone else set about finding ways to pass the time. Some napped, others read or listened to their iPods. I had finished the chapter on Easter Island in Collapse and then some yesterday. I continued reading until mid-afternoon when I could not bear to be in the tent any longer. I told Mark and Peter I was going out for a walk they looked at my like I was crazy. For about 10 minutes I braved the storm just so I could stretch my legs. Outside it was a complete white out. Visibility was less than 100 feet. It just so happened Krzysztof was out to stretch his legs at the same time and got this picture looking at the summit. You would not even know there was anything higher up the mountain. And just as the snow started to pick up and drove us back inside he captured me walking from one side of camp to the other.
After my walk, Mark, Peter and I forced ourselves into conversation. We had been napping and reading at alternate intervals all day. Other than early in the afternoon when Tobias spent some time in the tent to play chess with Peter there had been very little discussion. I was quite interested in Peter’s position in the German Foreign Service. He gets a new assignment every three years and moves to someplace new in the world. While we were on the mountain he was expecting the decision to be made on where he would move later this summer having spent the last three years in Santiago, Chile.

Before living in Santiago Peter had spent three years in Mexico so along with a natural knack for picking up foreign languages he had time to become proficient in Spanish. As the one client who not only spoke Spanish but was quite fluent he often had the inside scoop. He had befriended Tobias and Marcela early on and could understand what was being said whether it was Spanish or English. As we exhausted talking about the duller points of our occupations the conversation again turned to things on the mountain: food (particularly what we would eat once we again reached civilization), sleep (how little we were getting yet how tired we were ironically considering how much time we were spending laying horizontal in the tent) and survival in such extreme conditions. We marveled at how early mountaineers had first summited peaks without the wonders of Gore-Tex and ultra-lightweight gear made of titanium.

That was when Peter remarked how having all the modern innovations in the world on your side still cannot guarantee a summit, or a safe return home. I commented how true that was and it reminded me of a quote from one of my favorite American mountaineers Ed Viesturs: “Getting to the top is optional. Getting home is mandatory.” Peter then shared there was at least one mountaineer on Aconcagua this season for whom that would not hold true. When the helicopter had landed at Base Camp it did take out frostbite victims but it also took out a corpse. Or at least that was what the guides had continued to discuss in Spanish at breakfast that morning as they shared with one another the bits of information they had collected from talking to others around camp.

Thinking of a body being pulled off the mountain was a bit grisly but definitely a reality in high-altitude mountaineering. One of the other realities on the mountain is rumors spread faster than a wildfire and the story changes more than a message delivered by a group of 5th graders playing telephone. So while I did not want to dismiss the information from Peter I certainly was not about to accept it as gospel truth either.

The whole afternoon began to blend with the evening and the night only to be interrupted by a delivery of dinner to our door. The weather had now turned so bad and the cooking was going so slowly the guides were making smaller batches and bringing them to each tent individually so the food would be hot. This was also when we learned our water source had frozen. For the entire trip we pulled water straight from streams on the mountain. Even at this altitude there had been a rivulet which was frozen over but after a few blows from an ice axe we had access to fresh water flowing a just few inches below. This latest development meant we would now have to melt snow for water. This is an extremely time-consuming and inefficient process which burns through a lot of fuel. During the planning of the expedition logistics the guides had accounted for this possibility so it was not a problem but more of a demoralizer and one more thing which was not going our way.

Camp 2 Day 5: Move to Camp 3 Weather Day 3

Slept very poorly last night. I had been in a tent, in a sleeping bag, laying horizontal for far too long at this point. I have a difficult time sitting still through an entire movie. Being sedentary this long was driving me crazy.

The barometer plummeted last night and the storm had grown worse. As a result we were a bit slow in getting moving in the morning. Mark informed everyone oatmeal would be delivered to our tents because the snow melting process was slow and the wind was so loud he could not yell over it to let us know when to come and get it. The winds gusts were increasing in strength. Mark suggested we lean against the tent walls to keep the poles from taking the full brunt of the wind in an attempt to keep poles from snapping.

As we sat and waited for oatmeal leaning against the tent walls became a full time job which required some exertion. In one sense it was a bit frightening knowing a few aluminum poles and two sheets of nylon were the only protection we had from the storm and in another it caused me to revel in amazement at the engineering which had gone into the tent. However most of all it was a bit thrilling because I finally had something to do after two and a half days in the tent!

Marcela delivered cups of tile grout oatmeal to our tent shortly after 11am and it was as unsatisfying as ever. I snacked on my cheese wheel but I had an appetite to move more than to eat. In the early afternoon the wind died down a bit so I went outside to assess the state of my world at Camp 2. During the night four of the ropes keeping my tent in place had snapped in the wind and several of the rock piles had been blown over. I looked at the huge rock we had used to anchor the main support of the tent and taking the most abuse from the wind. The rock was so big it had required both Peter and I to lift and move it a couple of feet. We had selected the rock as a joke at the time because it was so big and seemed obnoxious. Looking back it seemed incredibly fortuitous. I repaired the ropes on my tent while Yvan and Krzysztof in the tent next to me repaired theirs — every single rope on one side of the tent had snapped. Leaning against the tent to provide extra support had probably prevented poles in both of our tents from snapping.

As I crawled back in the tent I could tell the three days in a tent at altitude had started to take their toll on me. Since I didn’t have a mirror, I took a picture with the camera so I could see what I looked like in the display. It wasn’t a pretty sight.

Being more focused on surviving the storm as opposed to trying to convey to others what it was like to be in it I had taken very few pictures or videos over the previous three days. I did think that afternoon to take a video you can see here. My tentmates Peter and Mark are in their bags. You can see the ice and snow from the condensation inside the tent on the sleeping bags. By this point in time the wind is actually fairly tame as the storm is winding down. I have already repaired the broken ropes so we are no longer bracing the poles. Rather, we’re just trying to pass the time. Earlier in the day I had finished Collapse just two and a half days after I started it.

That evening Mark explained our options:

1. In the morning we climb to Camp 3. If the weather is completely calm we setup camp and summit the next day if the weather holds.
2. In the morning we climb to Camp 3 and then descend to Plaza de Mulas.
3. The weather does not clear enough to move up the mountain and we retreat back down the mountain the same way we came all the way to Plaza Argentina Base Camp.

Mark had never had an expedition where no one on the team summited. However, he felt option 1 was most likely not going to happen. With more than 100 expeditions by Aventuras Patagonicas to traverse the mountain option three had only occurred one time and it was earlier this season. The odds favored option 2 which unfortunately did not even include a summit attempt but the group was feeling beat up at this point and even the die hards amongst us had a bit in them which just wanted to get off the mountain and get home.