Nevado Mateo, Huaraz
Peru
No one likes a 3 a.m. start, but when it's for a good reason I can make the occasional sacrifice. After my failed attempt on the glacier at Cotopaxi in Ecuador, I was determined to conquer at least one ice-covered peak during my time in South America. Nevado Mateo was touted to be one of the easiest, with a summit of only 5,150 m. Perfect.
It was almost a 3-hour drive to Punta Olimpica (4,740 m), the start of the climb to Mateo. Of the 20 or so climbers in my group, I was the only one who didn't speak Spanish. As the entire briefing was given in the local language, I just hoped the hike was straightforward enough to allow me to follow the crowd. We commenced along a dusty path at 6.40 a.m., surrounded by clouds that only provided a glimpse of what was to come.
It wasn't long before the trail turned uphill, and within 50 metres several people had pulled over to the side, gasping for breath in the thin air. I slowed down but continued up the sturdy rocks mixed with an occasional gravel slope. The boots I had been given seemed to have magnets attached to the bottom, bewildered by the traction I was obtaining. More and more people fell to the sides as we ascended higher, whereas I felt fairly comfortable after spending the last couple of weeks at a high altitude.
An hour after setting out we arrived at the bottom of the glacier, where we fitted our crampons and took hold of our ice axe. In groups of 3, we were roped up to a guide before stepping onto the ice, setting off towards an unseen summit. Being the first group to leave meant we had a clear path ahead of us. At first I was not at all confident the spikes on my feet would support me on the precipitous slope, but the further I climbed the more sure-footed I became. It seemed much easier than Cotopaxi, partly because it was daylight so I could actually see where I was placing my feet, and also because the gradient didn’t seem quite so severe. Only once did I struggle, when I couldn't get the axe to grip the ice and my guide had to pull me up and over a ledge. At one stage a loud rumble filled the air, and we all turned to watch a sizeable avalanche on a neighbouring mountain. It wasn’t what you wanted to see when you were standing on a glacier. We put our heads down and powered ahead, making the top only 20 minutes after starting on the ice.
When we arrived I didn't even realise we were standing on the summit, as there were taller mountains close by. The top was tiny, only big enough to hold a small group of people. Clouds came and went, but the sun remained obscured. All around were peaks of various sizes, covered in differing amounts of snow and ice. Down below was a sparkling blue lake, a colour I had become accustomed to in the Cordillera Blanca. The views and the light continuously changed, resulting in me taking a hundred photos of the same scene. It was mesmerising and one of my favourite expeditions I had undertaken so far in Peru (despite the incredibly short hiking distance).
After half an hour it was time to descend so we could make way for the other groups coming up. Going down the ice wasn't easy. It took a long time to trust my crampons to hold me as we made our way down a slope so steep I should have slid all the way to the bottom. Twice, as I was taking a step, my foot brushed too close to my opposite leg, resulting in the crampon catching on my pants. Luckily the guide was aware of this and both times managed to catch me with the rope, preventing me from face-planting the ice. Back on the safety of the rocks we removed the crampons, put the axe away, and slowly made our way down to the minivan.
In the end the total distance was 2.5 km with only 410 m of elevation gain. The fact that this took 2.5 hours indicates just how much of an impact the terrain and the altitude had on us. It was a cold 1.5 hours before the final climbers returned, then a long, sleepy journey back to Huaraz.
