Ruku Pichiucha
At 9 am the next morning with my new German friend in tow, we taxied to the Teleférico, the cable car. We were early enough to avoid any lines and soon after purchasing our tickets were ushered into a car along with four other gringos. The ride was epic, for not only was the Quito sprawl put into perspective, but to the south the view included Cotopaxi almost completely free of the clouds that usually shroud its peak. It was the first time I laid eyes on the volcano and I couldn't, wouldn't look away.
Out of the cable car we walked down to a view point and snapped a couple pictures of the city. Then the two of us made our way down a path to begin our hike to the rocky peak of Ruku Pichiucha. The landscape surrounding the path was unbelievable. Golden grasses grew in bundles across rolling hills. Purple flowers and brilliantly green mosses covered the ground, growing between a strange mixture of vegetation some of which was succulent-like. This unusual vegetation set off a spectacular view with the Andes in every direction and Quito far below.
This hike was no joke. Once at the base of Ruku Pichiucha, we hiked around the jagged rock top towards the back of the ridge where a path leads to the top. Several points along this route required some climbing with hands and feet, and as we climbed higher clouds started to surround us. The final 70 meters to the top was intense as the path wove across the rocky top of Ruku. Weather continued to move in, the temperature dropped and clouds completely obscured the top leaving us blind to the end of the hike.
Then it started hailing.
As we followed the path to the peak, we caught up to a larger group of people being led by a guide. Their serious gear suggested to me that this group was one of those that spends two weeks climbing a whole slew of mountains, so this was just a warm up for them. The path was hard to identify due to the clouds and the terrain, so we followed behind the group until finally, we all converged at the top.
Neither my friend, Janis, nor I were prepared for the weather surrounding us. With frozen fingers and running noses we didn't linger. After a round of congratulations and hugs with the group sharing the peak, we were ready to head back down.
Our descent was quite a scramble along a path of loose rocks and sand, a different path from the one we had just climbed up. As we slid down the clouds continued to make it difficult to see even ten feet ahead until we met the main path that lead us out of the clouds and back to the cable cars.
I'm not sure why, but this hike had an impact on me. Perhaps it was the landscape, made even more dramatic by the weather we experienced, it was unlike anything I had see before. Or perhaps it was the accomplishment of standing on the peak, the highest I have ever climbed at 4,800 meters. It's possible that I was higher during a family trip to the Himalayas, but I was two years old and carried by a Sherpa so that doesn't count. Perhaps it was how strong I felt the whole time.
In Salento, Colombia I met and shared a day hiking with Markus, a German mountaineer. He told me to think about two things while hiking, small steps and big breaths. Regardless the instinct to increase one's gait when walking at an incline, small steps are "what get you to the top of a mountain." I practiced these two things during this hike and despite its intensity, I felt in control and really enjoyed myself. Slow and steady wins the race. Regardless the reason, something has been lit within me. I have always been curious about mountains and climbing, but I never really had the opportunity to test my passion before. However, here in the land of volcanoes, the opportunity presents itself.
I have since decided that I may try my hand at the summit of Cotopaxi, the second highest volcano in Ecuador. I saw it for the first time from the cable car and cannot get that perfectly coned volcano out of my head. More so, as my 24th birthday approaches I have been thinking there is no better way to enter into another year of life than a summit attempt.
The idea is extremely intimidating and maybe I like the idea of mountain climbing more than the reality, but I would like to try. It is worth a try even if I don't make it to the top.