Back. Back. Back.
Shortly after joining the tracks of a previous party, they ended in a bowl patch of dirty snow. Looking back the snow being dirty seemed very peculiar. I may now hypothisize an explanation.
On one of our post adventure days in Arequipa, we toured the 'Juanita' museum. Juanita was an Incan child sacrificed on Nevado Ampato over 550 years ago to appease the mountain gods.
Mid 1990s, a nearby erupting volcano spread ash on Ampato's 6380 meter summit, causing the snow to melt away. Juanita was discovered and etc etc.
When we took the tour, our guide mentioned that an expedition had been made to Coropuna several weeks previous.
My long-winded hypotheses as to the dirty snow where the trakcs ended is as follows. Either way, the dirty snow was the remnants of a search for Incan mysteries. Whether it was intentionaly distributed 'ash' or not is the question.
Coropuna is a big big mountain with lots of snow. Reinhard, is most likely an impatient man not willing to wait for a volcaning eruption to bless Coropuna with the same graces as Ampato, and thus he may be attempting to 'aid' the melting of the snow.
Our guide said another expedition was planned for September, the end of the dry season. The first expedition went up at the beginning of the dry season. If indeed they scattered this ash on the snow, then when they return in 4 months the snow may be melted.
Anyway...these are just the observations of a dirty patch of snow at 20,000 feet halfway around the world.
After the dirty snow, the ridge angled up to the steep summit. The climb continued, but without the help of traks once again we were alone with a sleeping Incan god. In multiples of 5 we climbed the mountain.
The angle eased off and things got harder. Reaching the summit plato was to climb the high point of a sphere. The horizon stayed at a fixed distance and the seeming only change was that it got harderto breath and we became more tired.
Our fixed turnaround time of 2:00 was fast approaching and we were stuck on an Olympus Mons treadmill.
Joe rocketed out of sight in a mad push for the summit.
Now, as I climbed it appeared that Joe was constantly fiexed to the horizon.
15 minutes before our turnaround time, the angle finally eased to nearly flat. I reminded Joe, whom I had caught up to, that the summit plateau of Coropuna was no less than 8 kilometers wide, and we may never find any technical summit.
Nevertheless, we continued, and 20 minutes later we were standing and falling at 21,043 feet.
on the summit
