Most snow capped peaks in the high-altitude ´Cordillera Blanca´ require technical ascension, necessitating the use of snow-boots, crampons, ice climbing axes, anchors for semi-safe crevasse crossings, mountaineering rope, harnesses, carabenas, good clothing, head lights and any other equipment specific to each mountain´s requirements.
I decided to climb Mt Pisco (5,752m) because it came highly recommended as one of the lesser technical peaks in the region, yet offered one of the more spectacular views in the entire Cordillera range, give good weather on the day. Steve, Adi and I planned a 4 day expedition, including the hiring of additional alpine climbing equipment, buying all necessary food, privately hiring a student guide named Michell to lead us up and down safely AND organising donkeys to assist transporting our heavy loads to and from Base Camp.
As I nervously had anticipated, the summit day was a grueling 14 hour affair which would tax each of us seemingly to our limits both physically and mentally. Starting at 1am under the stars in bulky snow boots and carrying all necessary equipment, we trudged for 4 hours by meager torchlight up and down steep ravines to cross a particularly nasty boulder-field of moraine rock beneath a 15m high glacier, which indicated the ´real start´ of the icy ascent towards the mountain summit.After securing metal crampons on our boots, readying our ice axes and attaching to each other via harnesses, carabenas and rope, we began the ascent into an unforgivably steep world of snow and ice, which would last a further 7 hours before the decent down again.
I´ve climbed non-snowy peaks before and done many multi-day treks, yet this was a new kind of relentless burning pain that surged through my legs, back and arm muscles. Fortunately the surrounding sub-zero wind only picked up a little as we climbed, yet I dared not remove a single item of bulky clothing, despite now being a serious sweat-machine underneath all my layers.
One the began to rise, we were slowly treated to colour-changing mountain vistas, illuminating some of the more famous peaks nearby such as Mt Alpamayo (voted most beautiful in the world at 5,957m), Mt Artesonraju (the cinematic Paramount peak at 6,025m) and the huge hulking mass of Mt Huascaran (highest mountain in Peru at 6,768m).
Fortunately during most of our ascent the sun was not on us, for we climbed up the shady side of Mt Pisco, and it is worth noting that at this point the only effects of gained high altitude here was a sudden increase in breathlessness, which would´ve happened anyway given how hard our bodies were working ( although that didn´t stop me from continuing to talk and joke to my comrades of course :)
As the light increased even further we began to see more immediate details of our route, including strangely shaped snow on Pisco´s surface, the occasional ice cave complete with hanging icicles, seemingly bottomless crevasses in the snow all around us and to our dread, more steep ice slopes before us than previously expected.
Upon finally reaching within 10m of the true summit, with a spectacular view (steeply dropping on all sides) of endless snowy peaks spanning back almost to the horizon itself, we were halted by an unexpected, large, 30m deep, 1.3m wide crevasse, which some alpine mountaineers had evidently tried to jump prior to our arrival that very morning. By then, the snow ledge with which to land on the other side looked very deteriorated, and was destroyed even further after Adi in our group attempted AND failed to clear the jump; instead pulling half the ledge down with her as she plummeted inside.
As you can imagine the scene was somewhat chaotic as she was now dangling in a state of pure screaming hysteria, whilst our guide re-secured his crevasse-anchor before attempting to pull her out back up safely. Meanwhile her wriggling on the rope was complicating things more, and everyone else around seemed to be in shock, so I called out in effort to calm her by presenting the plain facts that she had 3 fully qualified mountain guides on the case (others had come bounding down from the summit) AND that we had her rope secured on both sides so she wasn´t going anywhere but up very soon; despite not being 100% confident of my claims at the time.
Once up and out she collapsed for a minute before heading to the summit, whilst I remained at the advice of the other guides on the ´safer side´ of the crevasse (not that much convincing was needed at that point). Whilst I enjoyed snapping up photos of the amazing view, other approaching climbers were deterred from attempting jumps too, as the crevasse had apparently doubled in size within the last 2 weeks; a sure sign of the ending to the climbing season (when ice recedes enough to compromise safety).
The way down was always going to be harder on my newly healed, but still not perfect left knee, so I spent a slow, agonising 5 hours descending, still attached to the others via the mountain rope, which made things somewhat awkward for us all if any one person tripped, slid or halted unexpectedly. Worse, on the way down I started to feel affects of the altitude in the forms of mild disorientation and nausea that would not leave me for the following 3 days after successfully returning to Base Camp.
A totally amazing experience though, which I would´ve definitely repeated on a few more peaks if not for the precious month left on my trip in South America, which I decided to dedicate on nearby Ecuador.
