Nest of the Condor (Nido de Condores)

Saturday 17thFebruary

The evening was still and mild when I went out at 0200. Well, as mild as an evening at 5000m can be. In the far, far distance on the horizon, a pale orange light. A high town perhaps in the general direction of Chile. The sky is clear but the recently set moon still lights up the sky over the horizon in the west, so the Milky Way is not as luminous as it usually is. We are now camped so high lightning from a distant, unseen storm lights up the sky. There is no sign of any cloud from horizon to horizon yet the flash reaches us from forever away.

But when I wake (after dawn) the breeze is up and low cloud fills the valleys below us. That’s new. It’s clearly below zero but it’s hard to tell by how much in this dry atmosphere when no ice forms any frost. You can’t say anything like “Oh, we’ve had ten degrees of frost” by looking at the ground. The burning sensation on your skin is a different measure. So too the fact that the Nalgene water bottles in our tent are frozen up. With no breeze the sub zero temperatures are actually very tolerable. But the slightest feather of a breeze cuts you deep and is to be avoided.  Follow the white rabbit»

Oberon Fossicking

The galahs chitter away in their high pitched voices and in the distance the cockatoos draw their screeches out as long as they can. The distinctive crimson rosella chit chat has died away as the sun has shifted into its peach sheets. A pup yips and the other two or three dogs in Black Springs pipe up in reply.  Then go silent. The faintest chorus of frogs has started up, so faint I have to strain to make sure of what I am hearing. We are in the Black Springs camping area which is propped between the road to Oberon (24km away) and the state forest. There are a few others here as well given it is Easter. More than a few in fact, though fortunately unseen – there are quite a few hundred scouts (some say as many as 1000)  here on some sort of regional activity. We drove past their campsite – a sea of tents so the large number is plausible. They have been invisible today but we saw quite a few dishevelled, dusty, strung out kids on the forest roads yesterday. Follow the white rabbit»

Multans Sultans – Taxi Story (Pakistan 3)

(I use my time in the taxi to practise my interview techniques.  In so doing I suddenly realised I was uncovering some remarkable stories. Some are captured on my blog under the Taxi Story collection  – click on link in right hand bar to see some of them).

I’ve been in Australia for just five years. I had a friend who I had not seen for a while. I looked him up on Facebook and he said he was ‘at the other end of the world’ studying at Griffith University. I had no idea where that was so I looked it up and discovered it was in Australia. I was surprised but I kept researching Griffith. Eventually I went to my father, borrowed some money from him and came to Brisbane.  Follow the white rabbit»

Canada

Friday 16th February

I’m sitting in our tent at Camp Canada. The wind flaps and chops at the tent. Kavitha is eating lunch even though it is close to dinner time. The sun warms the tent but the breeze is very cool and I can feel the chill of the ground seeping through the floor into my right buttock which is hanging over the edge of the foam mattress. Even the ink in the pen is retarded and struggles to lay itself on the paper (I have a pencil back-up). Outside our front door the Portuguese speaking trekkers are in their usual animated conversation. We set up a little stone table at the front door of our tent and that has become the focal point for coffee, tea and conversation. Follow the white rabbit»

Kavithitis

Thursday 15th February

I went to sleep at 2200 last night and woke at 0700 which is an excellent sign the acclimatisation is working. Not even a pee break in the middle of the night. It’s calm at 7am which is a good thing but the wind soon picks up and whacks the tent around. But as long as you are out of the breeze you can be quite comfortable. Being an acclimatisation rest day we have breakfast at 0900. We sit in a cool mess tent that has a fridge like feel to it, until the sun finally reaches us at 0940 and instantly turns it into a hothouse. All around us are groups gathering gear and heading down the mountain to Mendoza. It’s the end of the climbing season and most have already come and gone. Tents vanish overnight as expedition companies start to pack up. And of course there are the solo travellers who pack up and vanish as well. Everyone who departs gathers in the little plaza outside our mess tent, take group photos, applaud (justly) the support staff, give each other high fives then clump off down to Confluencia 18km away, and thereafter to the front gate of the park followed by a bus ride to Mendoza. There is something other-worldly in the concept that at the beginning of the day you can be in a frozen outpost like this, while at the other end of the day you can be sitting in a warm restaurant in a cosmopolitan centre eating a freshly cooked meal and drinking a just-opened bottle of Malbec. Mule trains flood in from pre-dawn to pick up their gear, and expedition company gear as well, snorting and clopping their way past us then clattering back again after they are fully loaded up with everything from backpacks to gas bottles – the latter making them appear rocket propelled, what with a tank strapped on either side. Follow the white rabbit»

St Valentines in Canada

Wednesday 14^th February .

Its 1741 and we are all sitting around the table somewhat stupefied. Maybe it’s just a matter of regathering our strength. Or a matter of reflection, or both.  We have climbed to Camp Canada, departing at 1100 on the dot, and ascending to 5150m, a total lift in elevation of 850m. We covet every metre so when the altimeter shows we have climbed even another 50m above what was advertised we are exultant. 50m does not sound like very much but when you lift your head and see how far above you it is, then drop your chin again and start grinding out those small steps, 50m has a lot of currency. It’s very valuable indeed. (On the descent of course the value of the currency looks like the Papiermark in 1923. Wouldn’t buy you a crumb of bread!). We moved at a very slow pace – fortunately. But as Danilo reminded us, distance in these mountains is not measured by kilometres but by hours. It’s interesting to note Canada is only two kilometres away but we covered it in four hours, hitting the spur on which it sits a few minutes after 1500. It was a surprise because the whole while we were plodding this out, if you glanced up (never a good idea) you could see other climbers high on the mountain, crossing a vast sweep of ridge, at that excruciatingly slow pace. Coloured dots on a dun scree. Turns out that is the leg from Camp 1 to Camp 2 and we did not have to go up there today at all. But I didn’t know that until a few minutes before arriving at Camp 1. Follow the white rabbit»

Tang

Tuesday 13th February
Rest day. I wake at 0500 with a serious case of nausea and an elevated headache. Despite that I was able to drop off to sleep again (after the necessary pit stop under a starry sky) and was woken by Kavitha at 0845 in time for breakfast at 0900. We’ve all had the doctor check us out and the results, especially the 02 saturation levels are encouraging. But the 3.5 litres I drank yesterday is still not enough and he urges us both to drink more. We load up our bottles with Tang in an effort to get more fluid down. The challenge with that sort of course is that we are constantly running to the nearest toilet, or rock!
We spend a little bit of time watching other groups do the slow grind out of here up to Camp Canada (Camp 1) which sits 850 m above us. It’s supposed to be a five hour round trip. We will do it tomorrow and take some of our gear with us. It will be interesting to see how the logistics work with the porters.
But right now we make the most of a hot tent and the urging by our guides to rest. It is tempting to explore and I am inclined to go over and check out the abandoned hotel. Indeed I feel somewhat guilty for lying around, but twice I am chided by guides for not resting so I take my cue from them and do as I am told. Unusual hey?!

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First Entry in the Aconcagua Journal

Plaza de Mulas

Monday 12^th February.

A horrendous night with the bladder chasing me out of the tent every couple of hours. Bonus – the night sky. Double bonus – knowing I’m hydrated. It’s 7am and I’m listening to the camp murmur awake. Interestingly the temperature has plummeted since I was up before dawn. That’s a phenomena we will observe over and over again. Mild in the still predawn, freezing just as the sun gets cracking.

We have had to organise to get our sleeping bags at the pick up point for the mules by 0645 so that is now all done and I’ve packed my bag prior to heading up to the mess tent for breakfast. The light is just kissing the tops of the peaks but we are in chilly shadow for a couple of more hours. I have already learned to temper my enthusiasm for the sun, and to wait its own good pleasure. Follow the white rabbit»

Wile E. Coyote

Sunday 11th February.

The night was still and mild – tested at 0300 when I stepped outside for a pee stop. It is always a remarkable thing in the mountains to realise the light, which is quite bright and sufficient to illuminate the inside of your tent, is cast by stars. Mountains in my experience are always light if the sky is clear. So you find yourself in a half asleep stupor supposed to be minding one thing while you end up gazing at the heavens and being mesmerised by the lights and the occasional meteorite. Take care that you don’t lose your balance! Follow the white rabbit»

Danilo

Saturday the 10^th 

Dinner last night was also a good way to get to know some of our fellow travellers a bit better and the conversation with our new compatriots was a highlight. Kavitha was sitting next to Danilo, one of our three guides and found him to be very forthright and clear about the plans /planning. He might be the answer to some of our communications challenges.

Despite wanting to nod off during dinner we found ourselves wide awake by the time the lights went out – usual, given digestion picks up the metabolism. That was not helped by the fact that the road outside is the main highway between Buenos Aries and Santiago and if there is a speed limit through town no one observes it. Perched three stories above the highway we finally fell asleep to, and were regularly woken by the sound of trucks roaring through this collection of ghost resorts, encouraged no doubt by the long straight section of road in the middle of torturous winding mountain highway that offers no overtaking for very long stretches of time. Follow the white rabbit»

Eduardo

Friday 9^th February

The guide is Tonetti Guia de Montana, (otherwise known as Eduardo, or Edu (Eh-dooh) for short) which immediately brought to mind the line from The Princess Bride “Hello my name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my Father. Prepare to die.” We wait for him now in the hotel foyer in a state of suspended animation. We have all checked out, our gear is piled up at the bottom of the lift and we wait. And wait. And wait a bit more. We have been down to the gear store and hired gaiters (me)  and a foam mattress each. We have also purchased a few sweets and savoury snacks and purchased a bottle of coke for summit day -recommended as an energy/sugar infusion prior to tackling the final push. It’s most likely to be frozen solid when we get there though. Now we wait around the foyer for the guides to appear. They are apparently at the parks office supervising and finalising our paperwork. The TV broadcasts continuous news in Spanish (which seems to mostly include loud, busty, blond, argumentative anchors), and of course the local papers are in Spanish. The exercise of practising our rudimentary Española in the papers wears thin very quickly. We are reluctant to pull out the novels since we know there will be plenty of downtime on the mountain which those books will alleviate. I’ve already read one from cover to cover on the plane so, while I enjoyed it, the purpose of bringing it is made null.  Max and his other gang of trekkers have already departed for their walk from Argentina into Chile. Go figure! Follow the white rabbit»

Spiderman

Thursday 8^th February

Spiderman is a tall bald chap from Brazil. He sports a spider tattoo’ed on the back of his skull. I’ll double check his name tomorrow (It sounded like Guido) but until then he is Spiderman. His team supporters are Jorge and Danilo. Jorge is an interesting chap introduced as a ‘wild man’ from Patagonia. I believe Danilo is from Brazil. We meet other members of the team today. Richard is from Germany, with excellent English. Enrique is from Brazil but has excellent English as well. Anna is from the USA. The remaining six are from Brazil and I don’t have their names sorted out yet. I mention the language since it seems we might have a group split in twain by language. That will be a bit unfortunate, but I will not jump to conclusions. It might be a perfect United Nations despite the different languages.

Our permits have been paid during the course of the day and the paperwork signed by everyone as the close of the day. Passports have been collected and Max will present all this to the park authority tomorrow. In short, all the paperwork is now done. Follow the white rabbit»

Maximo

Wednesday 7th February

There is a hard knocking on the door. Its 11 in the morning and we have just finished breakfast we purchased at the local Carrefour supermarket conveniently located around the corner. A tall lanky lad. Relaxed and fit. Lightly bearded with sunglass tan lines. Energetically introduces himself as Maximo, the expedition leader and organiser (though we discover later it is mainly organisation for which he is responsible). We welcome him in and we talk about the mountain and the logistics of the next few days.  He tells us he has just come of the summit only three days earlier and successfully had all but one of the team summit. We are a smaller group of 11 plus three guides, which is a good ratio. He says the weather has been problematic with steady 40kmh/h winds gusting to 60. So much for Patricio’s forecasts reported to us earlier. If you can’t trust a driver for your weather all is lost! Max tells us there is a storm up there today and no one will be on the summit. He’s very matter of fact about it all and I note how relaxed he is – that will be very helpful on the mountain. Relaxed leadership is better than uptight leadership when everyone is so much under pressure. Follow the white rabbit»

Patricio and Cicero

Tuesday 6th February

We are due to launch at 1250 but don’t rotate with the usual roar until 1323. I should care less about such things given we have a five hour layover in Santiago before heading to Argentina. But it’s a warm Sydney day and the plane is a stuffy tube until we get going. We have been spoiled by the A380 and more modern tubes. These old 747s are tired and very passé. It would be good to have recharge ports and a big screen in the seat thanks. (How my expectations have changed since the first international flight I ever took!) QANTAS is not as competitive as Singapore or Emirates or the other Gulf airlines for that matter when it comes to these sorts of resources (in reality, passenger distractions designed to keep us in our seats)  – come on Big Red, we are ‘long haul central’.

Now we are airborne we can get our heads into the game. An advantage of Victorian era, or even expeditions up until WW2 was the long transit time to the jump off point during which one could plan, focus and reflect. This morning I am making phone calls to work colleagues and trying to make sure there are as few loose ends as possible. Aconcagua is the last thing on my mind. But now we are in the air I can turn my thoughts to this expedition and what might unfold ahead of us. Follow the white rabbit»

Lessons from a Baby

William Wordsworth marvelled that he might learn from his toddler son. ’Could I but teach the hundredth part, Of what from thee I learn’ he wondered in “Anecdote for Fathers”. (It’s not his best work. In fact it’s rather droll, but then I find a lot of his stuff just so).  We can learn all sorts of things from kids. But it’s babies that have been teaching me a thing or two lately. Babies are the litmus test of whether you belong. Or, as perhaps I should more accurately posit it, babies tell you where you belong. The lesson is partly a reflection of our times (men dare not risk approaching someone elses child) and an instruction to a middle aged father and grandfather as to where he really stands. The lesson has a context and therein lies the rub. The context in this case is a community quick to profess it’s a family and that we are all family together. All siblings in one big happy communal rumpus room. It’s a sentiment which is not disagreeable, even when it’s expressed in hollow, strained terms. In fact it’s a sentiment I welcome having moved from another part of town, and it’s a message I don’t press against, hoping perhaps there might be some truth in it. Indeed, wanting there to be some truth in it. Follow the white rabbit»