Karl had got it into his head that he wanted to climb a 6,000m mountain whilst in South America. I was less keen. I had reached 5,645m in the Himalayas when I summited Kalla Patthar a few years earlier. I still had the memories of how hard it was. I had struggled with altitude sickness making me almost black out, mixed with the painfully cold winds had meant that to get to the summit took every last inch of my willpower and energy. I didn’t know if I could put my body through that again.
The selling point of Chachani is that it is one of the easiest 6,000m mountains to summit. In fact you pretty much drive most of the way up. The car leaves you at around 5,100m you then walk for a few hours and camp at 5,300 before setting off at night to reach the summit and come back down. We were also well acclimatised as we had been travelling in Bolivia and Peru in altitudes over 3,000m for over 3 weeks. With all the hiking we had been doing lately this really was the optimum time for us to take on the challenge. So, hesitantly, I signed up.
As the day came I became more excited. Karl kept saying how easy it was going to be. I strongly disagreed, knowing exactly how hard it was going to be, but I was feeling up to the challenge. We set off with the guide to get kitted out with the correct gear. It seemed like a good company to do the trek with and the equipment they give us looked ok. We also met the other couple who would be doing the walk with us. They were from Brazil and had never climbed a mountain before or been at high altitude. I wrote them off completely, doubting they would even make it to base camp. However, as the car drove us up to 5,100m everyone in the group seemed in good spirits and no one showed signs of altitude sickness. Maybe I would be wrong about the Brazilians.
The first part of the trek was the one I was least looking forward to as we had to carry our big bags with camping gear, water and food. Thankfully, my condition of doing the trek was that Karl would carry most of the ten litres of water. The walk itself was easy enough with only a gradual incline and a few sections with difficult rocks to climb over. However, it was made much more difficult due to our heavy loads and the now quite obvious, lack of oxygen.
The guide kept a slow and steady pace with regular breaks and we all managed to get to base camp. If anything, I was the one who struggled the most lugging my bag over the rocks.
We ate dinner and watched the sun set over the mountains which was magical.
As soon as the sun disappeared over the horizon the temperature dropped. We quickly ate our food and went to bed in an attempt to get some sleep before our 1am start. I must have been tired from the walk as I slept really well, however when the guide woke us Karl and the Brazilians had only little or no sleep at all. Nevertheless, with several layers of clothing to fight off the cold we all set off at a slow pace zigzagging up the mountain.
For the first hour and a half I was surprised at how easy I was finding it and I started to believe that we would all make it to the top without any problems. Then the path got steeper and as we approached 5,500m the air was getting thinner. I looked behind and saw the Brazilians lagging. When we stopped for a quick break they asked how much longer it was to the summit. The guide said about 3-4 hours. I looked at the Brazilians guys’ face which was now turning an odd shade of grey. Feeling Ill they decided to head back down. With no acclimatisation or mountaineering experience I was impressed they had got that far.
Me and Karl ploughed on and reached the snow line. At this time of year there was a thick layer of hard, compact snow and ice at the top so we were required to wear crampons. I had only wore them once before and they didn’t feel comfortable on my feet. They were loose and kept snagging. But slowly I got used to them and we edged further up the mountain.
Then Karl started to complain of feeling sick, he had mentioned it a few times before but was now starting to retch. The guide suggested sticking his finger down his throat. He was sick but it didn’t get rid of the nausea. After a few hours it eventually got to the point where he couldn’t walk five steps without stopping to be sick. At around 5,850m he decided to go down.
Surprisingly, I was feeling fine, after all my worrying the altitude wasn’t effecting me, apart from making me breathless, and I was warm enough to feel my fingers and toes. The guide said we should carry on to the top.
Getting to the summit was difficult and I had to stop every 20 steps to catch my breath. There was one precarious bit where the guide said people had fallen but we made it over ok. Then, pushing myself to the limit, I managed to make the final steps to the top and collapsed onto my knees wishing Karl was with me to celebrate.
The view was outstanding.
I felt on top of the world and couldn’t believe that I was the one out of the group to make it.
After few moments to take it all in we started to descend. The guide said it would be easier and quicker to go another way down. I was exhausted and followed him as he quickly paced down the mountain. Then things went disastrously wrong. We reached a steep section where there was no clear path. I’m still not entirely sure what happened as it came about so quickly, but it seems I may have tripped as my crampons snagged and fell down onto the snow and continued to slide down the mountain. It was utterly terrifying. I saw the guide ahead as he stood like a goal keeper trying to catch me but I just ploughed him down as well. I continued to fall and could only see rocks ahead. Not knowing how I was going to stop I honestly thought I would die. I bounced, like a pin ball, off a few rocks and then eventually it plateaued out and I managed to slow down enough to grab onto a rock.
I lay there for a few moments in shock before checking all my limbs were working. I was relieved to find I could move everything but I banged my head and could see blood pouring into the snow so I was still concerned. The guide came running down to see if I was ok. He was also in quite a state as when he tried to catch me my crampon had dug into his knee and he had a nasty wound, he also broke his finger as he was holding onto one of the poles which bent backwards as I fell into it. Overall, it seemed he had come off worse than me.
Being able to walk we didn’t warrant a helicopter so after the bleeding had stopped and we cleaned ourselves up we had to continue walking down the mountain. I was now terrified to walk on the snow so with much caution we slowly got below the snow level. I started to feel faint and sick so we had to stop a few times. Once the shock wore off the pain begin to kick in. I hadn’t noticed it much before but now as we were walking down my right shoulder and knee were excruciatingly painful.
We finally go to an area where we could see camp and I could see Karl happily waving up at us not having a clue what we had just been through. Taking it slowly, as each step now caused considerable pain we did eventually make it back to camp. The Brazilians and Karl didn’t look healthy themselves however when they saw what happened they came rushing to help.
Karl, despite being ill, was now forced to pack up camp and carry both mine and his bags back to the car.
The last stretch back was like the obstacle course of pain and I was elated to finally reach the car.
We made it back to Arequipa at 5pm, I was still in pain but the bleeding to my head had stopped and I was pretty sure nothing was broken. All I wanted was a shower and to sleep. We decided not to go to the hospital but in the morning as I was still in a lot of pain we decided it was best to get checked out. The x-ray showed that there was no broken bones I just had muscle damage to my shoulder which needed to be put in a sling and a few cuts and bruises which needed to be looked after. Overall I was extremely lucky.
We took on Chachani but in the end the mountain beat us. Reaching 6,000m was an amazing challenge but one which II won’t be repeating anytime soon.
