Arequipa, Peru.
26 de abril de 2009
I like to get high. I really like to get high. Which is why I bo
oked a tour out of La Paz ($7.13) to Chacaltaya, the highest ski center in the world--or, at least, what used to be until global warming changed a few things.
We were an international group of 8--our guide, me, Therese from Stockholm, two Germans and three Brazilians. We left La Paz early in the morning, and climbed up to El Alto, the city on the altiplano, then zigzagged our way up a narrow ribbon of dirt road which would ultimately should have brought us to the ski center's lodge at 15,900 feet.
It had rained in La Paz the day, but by the time we got to 14, 000 feet we encountered snow. The van, unable to climb any further, can to a halt at 14,30
0 feet. The guide told us to get out of the vehicle and, without any explanation, simply started walking up the rocky slope of the mountain.
He was a terrible guide. Within minutes he'd left Therese and I in the dust. Imagine, leaving two tourists stranded at 14,300 feet. Therese was sick and I'd been battling my usual high altitude issues. But...we were not about to quit. Nor were we willing to race up the mountain just to stay with the group.
So, off we went. The storm from the day before hadn't totally blow out the clouds, and the new moisture on the mountain coupled with the lingering affect of the snowfall made for a foggy hike. We could sort of see the group ahead of us, but I'd been the Chacaltaya before and knew where we were headed.
Therese and I, we had a good time. We'd count 20 steps then stop for a break. We were, after all, ove
r two miles in altitude. We slowly made our way to the ridge, stopping often to search out fossils and unusual rocks. Once, we found a rock in shape of South America, had had out photos taken with it. Honestly, we were exhausted. It had taken us well over an 90 minutes to climb to the ridge.
Well, the views from the ridge were amazing. We'd climbed to 15,500 feet and before us lay magnificent views of Bolivia's highest peaks--Illimani, Muruarata, and Huayana Potosi,. all over 20,000 feet! We played in the snow, made snowballs, took lots and lots of photos and generally felt like a tour group of two. From the ridge, it was a relatively easy slog up a snowy road to the ski lodge at 15,900 feet.
Almost immediately we saw our "guide" who was quite displeased with us. "Where had w
e been?" and "We've been waiting for you." It was my turn to let him know how displeased I was. We were also told that we'd have to turn around almost immediately as we'd have to walk down the way we climbed. I just ignored the guy. In truth, the rest of the group had climbed the top of the ski lifts--at 17,225 feet, and we just now descending. So, we took our time again--climbing at least to 16,000 feet just to say we'd done it, taking more photos and generally having a great time.
I like to get high. I really like to get high. Which is why I bo
oked a tour out of La Paz ($7.13) to Chacaltaya, the highest ski center in the world--or, at least, what used to be until global warming changed a few things.We were an international group of 8--our guide, me, Therese from Stockholm, two Germans and three Brazilians. We left La Paz early in the morning, and climbed up to El Alto, the city on the altiplano, then zigzagged our way up a narrow ribbon of dirt road which would ultimately should have brought us to the ski center's lodge at 15,900 feet.
It had rained in La Paz the day, but by the time we got to 14, 000 feet we encountered snow. The van, unable to climb any further, can to a halt at 14,30
0 feet. The guide told us to get out of the vehicle and, without any explanation, simply started walking up the rocky slope of the mountain.He was a terrible guide. Within minutes he'd left Therese and I in the dust. Imagine, leaving two tourists stranded at 14,300 feet. Therese was sick and I'd been battling my usual high altitude issues. But...we were not about to quit. Nor were we willing to race up the mountain just to stay with the group.
So, off we went. The storm from the day before hadn't totally blow out the clouds, and the new moisture on the mountain coupled with the lingering affect of the snowfall made for a foggy hike. We could sort of see the group ahead of us, but I'd been the Chacaltaya before and knew where we were headed.
Therese and I, we had a good time. We'd count 20 steps then stop for a break. We were, after all, ove
r two miles in altitude. We slowly made our way to the ridge, stopping often to search out fossils and unusual rocks. Once, we found a rock in shape of South America, had had out photos taken with it. Honestly, we were exhausted. It had taken us well over an 90 minutes to climb to the ridge.Well, the views from the ridge were amazing. We'd climbed to 15,500 feet and before us lay magnificent views of Bolivia's highest peaks--Illimani, Muruarata, and Huayana Potosi,. all over 20,000 feet! We played in the snow, made snowballs, took lots and lots of photos and generally felt like a tour group of two. From the ridge, it was a relatively easy slog up a snowy road to the ski lodge at 15,900 feet.
Almost immediately we saw our "guide" who was quite displeased with us. "Where had w
e been?" and "We've been waiting for you." It was my turn to let him know how displeased I was. We were also told that we'd have to turn around almost immediately as we'd have to walk down the way we climbed. I just ignored the guy. In truth, the rest of the group had climbed the top of the ski lifts--at 17,225 feet, and we just now descending. So, we took our time again--climbing at least to 16,000 feet just to say we'd done it, taking more photos and generally having a great time.
I had been to Chacaltaya before---in July of 2005. By then, the ski center was no longer is use. One could still see the glacier and the ski lift that had been anchored into it. But so much of it had melted that skiing off that glacier was no longer possible. In April of 2009, less than four years later, not a speck of glacier was left and all evidence of lift lines had been removed. This was deeply disconcerting, and real evidence that the environment, at least in this part of the Andes, is getting warmer, and at a rate that seemed startingly fast.
Once the group was amassed we began the descent, but it was too
much of a temptation not to show the Brazilians how to make a snowman. It was, after all, perfect snowman snow--wet and sticking in the mid afternoon sun. So I stopped, really annoying the guide, and gave a demonstration. Two of the Brazilians rolled the torso and head and I let them assemble the snowman. Someone put a hat on him; we found rocks for eyes, nose and mouth. Each of us had our picture taken--except for the guide who kept attempting to push us on.
The descent was much easier and in time the snow tapered off to rocks. Somehow the van had been turned around and we were headed in the direction of La Paz. From there is was an easy 90 minute ride back to the center where we were deposited at our respective hotels.
It was a memorable day--and my only one with snow in this summer/winter of 2009. Therese made a great travel companion and the idea of leaving a snowman at 15,000 kept me smiling for days.
much of a temptation not to show the Brazilians how to make a snowman. It was, after all, perfect snowman snow--wet and sticking in the mid afternoon sun. So I stopped, really annoying the guide, and gave a demonstration. Two of the Brazilians rolled the torso and head and I let them assemble the snowman. Someone put a hat on him; we found rocks for eyes, nose and mouth. Each of us had our picture taken--except for the guide who kept attempting to push us on.
The descent was much easier and in time the snow tapered off to rocks. Somehow the van had been turned around and we were headed in the direction of La Paz. From there is was an easy 90 minute ride back to the center where we were deposited at our respective hotels.
It was a memorable day--and my only one with snow in this summer/winter of 2009. Therese made a great travel companion and the idea of leaving a snowman at 15,000 kept me smiling for days.
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