Lima, 6 months after this attempt
The Nevado Ojos del Salado, it is this big mountain, there. Yes, in the middle, slightly on the right on the following picture. It might not look that appealing, and outside of Chile it is an isolated and barely known summit. And yet the Ojos del Salado deserve more fame : at 6893 m (22615 feet) it is the highest summit of Chile, second summit of South America, highest volcano of the world and the highest lake of the world is sheltered in its crater !
Pretty quickly this mountain became the goal of our first long summer vacations in South America. We were looking for summits, technically easy enough, in an area where the weather was stable enough, and, if possible, in a new place, interesting and enjoyable.
At first, Aconcagua seemed to gather all those criteria… But the fame of this mountain attracts a large crowd too: apparently the Aconcagua base camp is the largest in the world, right after Everest’s! Internet connection, hot showers… And an expensive permit is mandatory to be able to climb it.
Andes are vast and there is a huge amount of isolated and barely frequented mountains. It is definitely hard to make a choice. For most of those summits, it is impossible to find good beta on the Internet and it would require much more time to get organized and ready. The Ojos del Salado area gathers a lot of mountains higher than 6000 m (19 685 feet) and it looks accessible from both the Chilean and Argentinean side.
On the Chilean side, a permit is mandatory, but it could be easily obtained. A good tracks system leads to some refuges, and it is fairly easy to reach the altitude of 5280 m (17 322 feet). On the Argentinean side it is adventurous… There is no infrastructure but it is possible to organize a possible transportation from Fiambala, the closest town.
The possibility of and adventure, without 4×4 and without any permit, in the wonderful and amazing Puna de Atacama, seems finally more appealing.
From the couch in Lima everything seems pretty straightforward: reach Fiambala after 3 or 4 weeks of 4×4 in altitude (perfect for acclimatizing), find Johnson Reynoso in Fiambala (local mountain expert), drop the car in an hotel parking, reach the trailhead by hitchhiking or by taxi, climb the mountain, go down, get back to Lima. Easy.
We manage to reach Fiambala following the plan… Johnson is a very nice and sympathetic person who knows perfectly well the surrounding mountains. Everybody knows him in Fiambala and it is pretty easy to meet him. His advices are welcome: a mule driver is located near the trailhead, at Quemadito, and he could help us to carry our equipment to the base camp at 5500 m (18 044 feet). We will go for this option in order to arrive at the camp in the best shape possible. And finally the car will wait for us at the trailhead in Quemadito…
Indeed, the trailhead is still at 3 hours by car from Fiambala and even if the road is excellent, there is almost zero traffic… And from the road there is still 10 km (6 miles) of 4×4 to reach Quemadito à 3600 m (11 810 feet).
On the D day, a pretty weird feeling is in the air: we basically have to abandon the car in the middle of a mineral desert and we have to leave our bags full of equipment (tent, sleeping bags…) too. The mule driver is supposed to come and get them in order to bring them to Aguas Calientes à 4200 m (13 780 feet). We have to trust him but we haven’t met him yet…
It is really difficult to summarize in a few sentences the next 10 days. The dramatic intensity of the landscape, the total remoteness once at the base camp, the “pressure” of the altitude, the sun and the wind, dust that goes everywhere and those intoxicating sceneries all over…
Quemadito is a real door on another world. We push it and we enter a new and incredible environment. It is a desert, but the first day the trail follows a nice river. There is nothing, yet vicuñas are everywhere. The itinerary is pretty much obvious yet it could be so easy to get lost (the GPS really helps here!). Everything is so vast, large, immense, yet the scenery is constantly changing. The ground is soft and makes walking a tiring task, but curiosity is finally stronger than fatigue. Altitude is slowly increasing and the second bivouac, at Aguas Vicuñas is already at 5000 m (16 400 feet).
It is only on the third day that the Ojos del Salado is finally appearing at the pass named Portezuelo Negro. It has never been that close, yet it is still so far. Below is a surprising lake. Clouds are playing with light and sun. Guillermo, our mule driver, is a very nice and interesting person. He easily talks about his life in the mountains with the mules and how he spends a couple of months there, every year, often alone. He wishes us good luck before leaving to a lower altitude with the equipment of a Polish expedition. When this group will go down we will be alone at 5500 m (18 000 feet).
A full day of rest at the base camp is welcome and helps us to get used to this pretty high altitude. It is so good to wonder around, between ice penitents (only source of water available here) and on the surrounding hills, to admire those high mountains. It is really cold during the night, but under the sun it can be even hot during the day.
An advanced camp around 5700 m (18 700 feet) is convenient to get a little closer to the summit and further from the rest of the world. When it is finally time to face the last slopes it is mandatory to wake up early. The summit is only 1200 m higher (3900 feet). The trail is going through tiresome volcanic ashes, the slope is getting steeper at every step and it is then mandatory to zigzag between small rock bands: each steps it a bit higher and we have to push harder on the thigh. Lungs are looking for more air but it is getting more and more rare. At 6500 m (21 300 feet), at the lip of the crater, the iced lake is right there and clouds are now plentiful. The summit is so close, 300 or 400 m (900 to 1200 feet) above. The final slope is a real invitation: 1h30 more, maybe 2h…
In few minutes the weather changes dramatically. The sky is not blue anymore, clouds are dark and the summit slowly disappears. A few minutes later it is snowing, pushing us down. 3 days later we will be back at our car.
Any regrets? Honestly, none. The summit would have been the icing on an already incredible cake. Reaching the summit in the clouds, without a view, doesn’t mean much to me. For me, the summit is the ultimate belvedere, but an adventure doesn’t limit itself to those few minutes on the top: it is the whole organization, the evolution of ideas, the wait during weeks or months, it is the act of moving step by step, the way of the whole environment is acting to fill ourselves with wonder, and it is as well all those feeling, sensations and memories that, months, even years later, are still bringing chills and that are showing us the next adventure.
