I have many memories of this mountain, and as we approached on the rough, winding dirt road, it seemed fitting to put the soundtrack to the first Lord of the Rings movie on my iPod, for this truly is a piece of Middle Earth! The brassy, bold and noble orchestrations somehow fit the harsh beauty of the place.
As we made our way through the pine forests, Cotopaxi loomed larger under a covering of cloud, almost reluctant to show herself. We could see the lower snow line peeking through the mist. The sky is big, as are the foothills. Perspective gets distorted when you see people at a distance dwarved by the barren hills.
After stopping at a small lake for a moment, we drove past a place that we used to camp at back when I was a kid, one of the most unforgettable campsites I've ever been to. With Cotopaxi almost right overhead, we would pitch our tents on the scrubby plain next to a small stream of the coldest, purest, clearest water I've ever had. I recall the cold, the vast empty spaces, the hills, and the wild horses that still roam the land singly and in packs. Those were the best campouts!
I also remember we had our Grade 8 year-end class overnight there as well. I, a rather nerdy fellow awkwardly trying to fit in with the girls, was feeling the pangs of adolescence growing within mind and body. That's a fancy way of saying there was lots of "Awkward!"
An interesting memory I have of that overnight was a night-time walk through a wooded area several of us took with our home room teacher, Mr. Erickson, during which some in the group tried to explain the plot lines of The Lord of the Rings to those of us who hadn't (yet) read the books. Cotopaxi, somehow you will always be associated with Tolkein's world for me!
Back to the present, though! We piled back into Fabian's van and he began the crazy drive through the sandy switchbacks up to the parking area that lies several hundred feet down from the Refuge, where climbers all begin their ascent into the snow and ice.
It suddenly seemed like we were driving on the moon! Having read lots of Westerns, I realized we had left the tree line far below, and now what sparse vegetation and grass was growing was quickly giving way to a desolate rockscape.
After some wild driving up and up, we also noticed the wind was quite strong.
As Fabian parked the van we peered through the fog and rain to see the yellow Refuge building way up in the distance.
Now the Erazo's had warned us it would be cold, and this is where my own hubris is revealed. We, of course, are Canadians! We know, and are accustomed to, the cold. We had chuckled when they all loaded up that morning with scarves and toques and blankets, plus extra pairs of pretty
much every piece of clothing. We had humoured them by bringing a few extra layers, thinking it would be cold, but not realizing it would be COLD, and RAINY and WINDY!
(Let me be quick to add that my dear and sensible wife did take the Erazo's warnings more seriously than I did, out of her love and concern for our children!)
Cotopaxi, today You humbled this Canadian, put him in his place, and gave him a renewed respect for your immense wildness. Eagerly,
I set out with Raquel, Andrea, Santi and Fabian, to plod our way up the steep slopes of loose volcanic sand. I was wearing one pair of jeans, two layers of shirts, one cardigan sweater and my light and (sort of) waterproof Adidas jacket. On my head I had my ball cap, and a last-minute ingenuity, my bandana wrapped around my head to cover my ears. I had no gloves, thinking my jacket pockets would suffice. I had a bit of water in my canteen, and a sucker in my mouth for some energy.
We began the slow but steady climber's pace straight up the side of Cotopaxi. But Cotopaxi sensed my Canadian know-it-all pride and decided to step up the gale and the sleet, and within minutes I was soaked, my exposed skin freezing, and the Refuge still a long way up
ahead. Wisely, Carina had stayed with
Grace and the girls in the shelter of
van. Good call, hon!
Somewhere far ahead, Raquel was already well on her way. Her older sister Andrea was about 100 feet ahead of me and slowing. Fabian started, but soon was feeling unwell and so headed back to the van. Santi soon enough caught up to me and passed me and Andrea, catching up with Raquel.
I broke. Cotopaxi, ya broke me! There came a point of being soaked and cold and freezing that made me nervous. After shouting ahead to Andrea over the wind to say I needed to head back down (she, too, realized she was unprepared for the wet cold and headed down shortly after me) I started slipping and stumbling down toward the van that seemed so tiny and far below. Soaked and chilled, I gladly welcomed a cup of coffee
from the thermos and my seat back in the shelter of the van, to await Raquel and Santi, who did make it to the Refuge and back, cold and tired but also maddeningly sound in mind and body!
It was so good to see you again, Cotopaxi. You are a treasured part of my growing up years, a place of wildness and unbending grandeur. I will come back again sometime
maybe make it to the Refuge - hey, maybe even further up into the ice fields! It was good to be reminded how frail I am. I'll come
back more respectfully prepared next
time.
"we will not fear though the mountains crumble into the sea ....". -Psalms
What a fabulous experience, never to be forgotten. I do remember the camping trip and the cold, and the stream and the wild horses and volcanic boulders. Thanks for the graphic story to remind us of the grandeur of Cotopaxi.
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What a marvelous experience and entertaining writing!
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