Antigua from Cerra de la Cruz, Fuego and Acatenango, On Pacaya
I was not in shape. Having an acceptable BMI does not mean I can walk up my driveway without getting winded. So in December, shortly after signing up for the volunteer project in Guatemala, I joined a gym. This was going to be the first time I exercised on my own volition in my adult life. One of the reasons I chose Guatemala was because I was going to climb an active volcano. Pacaya has been oozing lava since a violent eruption in 1965 and visitors can hike about 5000 vertical feet to stand next to the floe. The peak of the cone is at an elevation of over 8300 feet, but the place to go is to a pit crater that was blown out of the side at a slightly lower elevation. It is a ridiculously dangerous and difficult climb. I had to get in shape.
I arrived in Guatemala City on Saturday and was picked up and taken to Antigua, the place that I would call home for the next 2 weeks. Antigua is beautiful – an old Spanish colonial town preserved in time and spirit by its designation as a UNESCO World Heritage Site. The city is surrounded by volcanos, both dormant and active. Fuego to the west spews smoke day and night and on one evening during my stay, even had a sizeable (and loud) eruption. Agua is directly to the south and is the focal point of the city; it has laid quiet for about 450 years. Pacaya is behind Agua and cannot be seen from the city.
On Monday, I climbed Cerra de la Cruz (Cross in the Hill), a decent hill on the north side of Antigua that tested my training. I got a C+. I made it but it was an effort. I spent two hours up there, overlooking the city and staring right at Agua. Reflecting on all the work it took me to get to Guatemala – the paperwork, the immunizations, the coordination, the anguish at leaving my husband and son – I was in tears. I made it!
Tuesday I was sore. Luckily my doc had given me 500mg Ibuprophen so I began my habit of taking it every day. In addition to the climb, you couldn’t go anywhere without walking on terrifically uneven cobblestone streets and sidewalks that twisted your calves into knots as they compensated. From my host family house in the North to Parc Central, it was a 15 minute hike. And who could go direct with so many interesting shops and nooks to explore. I’d guess I logged 5-7 miles a day.
I went to the outfitter – the one that was recommended by my volunteer project and where the guides spoke English. (The American in me was surprised at how many people in the tourist trade did not speak English. I was embarrassed by my utter lack of Spanish. Besides cheese and a bathroom, I couldn’t ask for much.) Renzo set me up with an evening tour to climb Pacaya – on Wednesday. Welp, ok.
Wednesday, I packed my Camelbak with loads of water, warm clothes, snacks, a camera and more Ibuprophen. We met at the outfitter at 4pm and loaded in the van with Oscar, our outfitter guide. We passed the poorest of homes and Guatemala’s 5 star golf course on the way to Pacaya, a 45 minute ride. We drove past tobacco and sugarcane farms and the Mayan women carrying loads on their head on the edge of the too-narrow roads.
At the base of Pacaya, we picked up our local guide, Yorkie. A 13 year old boy, still in his school uniform and oversized mens dress shoes; he was responsible for us that day. We drove a bit further up to the starting point and bought walking sticks from the local children for 5 quetzals (about 60 cents). The village was shockingly poor. A few boys were entertained by an arcade game with the words “Hi-Tech” on the side that looked like it was from 1980. The children were often shoeless, the horses were emaciated and the dogs were near starvation. In fact, most of the animals in Guatemala look like that. One dog chose to join our group and follow us up.
The first 20 minutes of the hike is very steep. The path is paved which actually makes it more difficult as rocks and dirt make it slippy. The rest of the hike is still grueling and very, very long. Oscar stopped often and shared a lot of the history, struggles and the plight of the Hormigo tree, which is the only tree used to make the marimba, the national instrument of Guatemala. New rules are in effect to ensure that this tree does not become extinct.
After 2.5 hours, about 7:30pm, we break out of the woods. We can see Guatemala City, the villages that dot the mountain slopes and a row of three volcanos in the distance including the spewing Fuego. It is sunset. Living on Lake Erie, where we have arguably the most consistently spectacular sunsets, I have high standards. It is hard to compare to standing on the top of a volcano, above the puffy clouds, looking at Mother Nature’s tens of thousands of years of creation. It was humbling.
Still not to the floe, we now begin the most trecherous and technical part of the climb… over razor-sharp igneous lava rock. The foreign landscape of black waves of rock makes you feel as if you have landed on the moon. It is precarious at best and absolutely necessary to use your walking stick as the lava is the texture of heavy styrofoam and crumbles and crunches under your feet. There is a poorly marked path that Yorkie leads us along single-file, up and down and up and down. We are the only group heading in our direction, but hundreds of people are navigating in their single-file line, back the way we came. One guy remarked, “you better hurry, it is getting dark.” I couldn’t agree more. The thought of climbing back over this in the dark was making me uncomfortable.
We finally make it to the floe and everything is worth it. We are standing next to it, above it, way too close to it and roasting marshmallows on it. It is HOT. Some people’s shoes melted. Yorkie is telling us where we can go and where we can’t and watching it move under our feet as we stand on the few cooled inches of rock above the molten river. This is one of the only places in the world you can have this experience. No insurance companies to tell you otherwise. It is up to you to not put your foot in the damn stuff.
Soon, it is pitch black and I realize that we are entirely alone. Eight of us including our two guides and two stray dogs (we picked up another when we hit the lava field). We are the ONLY humans on the planet on top of this volcano right now and we can see a glimpse of the world. The cool, moist clouds start lowering down on top of us and they are moving fast, skitting along our feet. The water vapor is reflecting the hot lava and the sky around us is glowing an eerie red. At the same time, if you look up you can see between the scattered cloudforms to every star in our hemisphere. Tears come again. Places like this exist; I exist. Thank you.