Chimborazo and The Highest Man on Earth
Discovering a Goal by Chance
I remember the exact moment I learned about Chimborazo with total clarity. It was shortly after I had trekked the Inca Trail to Machu Picchu. One evening in the dining tent after we had consumed an abundance of carbohydrates to replenish precious calories and our group was settling down with some mate de coca, a couple of members of the group began speaking of their experiences in Ecuador. They talked about how beautiful some “Cotopaxi” volcano was and my interest was immediately piqued.
Once back in the United States I was yearning for another adventure and the conversation that night in the tent stuck in my mind… “Cotopaxi”. I began to research Cotopaxi and in the process began to learn about Ecuador’s massive volcanoes. While spiraling down this internet wormhole I learned, much to my surprise, that the highest point on Planet Earth is in Ecuador… the summit of Mount Chimborazo. I remember the exact moment I first read about it and it instantly became my obsession to climb to the summit of that mountain. I wanted to claim the title of “The Highest Person on Earth”
The Highest Place on Earth
“I’m climbing to the Highest place on the Planet”
“You’re going to Mount Everest?!?!”
“No I’m going to Mount Chimborazo in Ecuador, because the Earth bulges at the center the summit of Mount Chimborazo is actually closer to the sun and outer space than the summit of Everest.”
*visible confusion*
For months that was the conversation I had every time someone asked me about this goal and what I was training so hard for. Given this it only seems appropriate to give some cold hard background facts and numbers on Mount Chimborazo before discussing the details of the preparation and the climb.
· The summit of Mount Chimborazo is 20,561’ above sea level (6,384 m).
· The summit of Chimborazo is 2.1 km closer to outer space than the summit of Everest
· Chimborazo has a prominence of 13,527’, making it the 16th most prominent peak in the world.
· Chimborazo is a dormant stratovolcano. The last major eruption was around 640 AD.
· The upper mountain is heavily glaciated and is subject to severe weather and avalanches.
· The first successful summit was made by Edward Whymper in 1880.
· In 1993 Chimborazo became the site of the worst mountaineering accident in Ecuadorian history with 10 climbers being killed in an Avalanche just under the Veintemilla Summit.
· The mountain pictured on Ecuador’s flag is Chimborazo.
Alright so those are the matter-of-fact cliff notes on Chimborazo. Obviously taking on this mountain was going to be considerably more difficult and dangerous than trekking the Inca Trail. (Talk about an understatement!)
This Isn’t Just a Hike
I’ve lived in the Northeast United States for my entire life. The highest mountain here is Mount Washington (6,288’) in New Hampshire. My first time ever being at considerable altitude was on the Inca Trail and for a very brief hike to the top of the Rainbow Mountain in Peru (17,060’). I recall the Rainbow Mountain hike being difficult at the time and having some mild symptoms of altitude sickness. I also remember seeing some people unfortunate enough to be hit hard by altitude sickness being taken off the mountain in ambulances… (much more dramatic than my hyperventilating, headache, and rush to an outhouse.)
Where I was trying to go the air would be much thinner, the terrain would be much more technical and dangerous, and there would be no medical or evacuation help available if something did go wrong.
The objectify what “thinner” air actually means… the summit of Chimborazo would only have about 46% of the amount of oxygen that is present in the thick oxygen-rich air surrounding my sea-level home!
I researched altitude sickness and the physiological effects on the human body. The inner nerd in me would have found it extremely fascinating if it wasn’t so intimidating. It was obvious that I was going to have to take my training and preparation seriously to achieve my goal. This wasn’t a vacation I was going on. This was a difficult and complicated mission to achieve my goal.
I created a short video on the topic of altitude sickness and training in preparation for the climb.
High altitude can have devastating effects on the human body, up to and including death. The climb would be performed without the use of supplemental oxygen*. This meant I had to get my body into peak physical condition and understand altitude well enough to intelligently acclimate and to be able to recognize the more serious signs of altitude sickness.
I wrote a blog on how to prepare for high altitude climbs, such as Chimborazo, which can be found here.
*Both times that I climbed Chimborazo I was unaware of any operators offering supplemental oxygen. While writing this blog I learned of one company that is going to begin to offer clients supplemental oxygen with their services. None-the-less I would recommend proper acclimatization for the best experience.
Unforeseen Circumstances
It was December 2018 and the time had come. After 5 months of intense physical training and preparation I was heading to Logan International Airport in Boston to fly to Quito. I would be meeting 2 of my best friends in Quito who I was able to convince to pursue this crazy goal with me. 3 gringos who live at sea level flying to South America to climb to the highest point on Planet Earth… what could go wrong?
The plan was to arrive in Quito and begin acclimatizing in the city 9,000’ above sea level. Next we would go to Cotopaxi National Park and sleep in the refuge at 15,000’, climb to the summit of Cotopaxi at 19,347’ and then rest before sleeping at altitude again at the base of Chimborazo and subsequently taking on the massive mountain.
A successful summit of Cotopaxi boosted morale and confidence in the task ahead.
At breakfast the day of our Chimborazo attempt at a small mountain lodge we met climbers who had attempted the climb the night before and had just come off the mountain. They had run into deep snow at the Castillo ridge and were forced to turn around early. They appeared weary and beaten.
All day we stared at the mountain hoping for no more snow and for sun on the climbing route to melt the loosely packed deep snow, allowing it to freeze into a hard ice sheet for that evening. Cloud cover obscured our view of the summit making it impossible to know what we were getting into that night.
As the sun was setting on Chimborazo we hiked to the high altitude Whymper refuge at about 16,000’ to try to get a couple hours of sleep. There is a cemetery between the two mountain refuges with memorials for all the people who have perished on the mountain. A grim reminder of the dangers that can be involved with the goal that lies ahead.
At 12:30 AM we set off for the summit of Chimborazo, following the Direct route (red) that was popular at the time.
The night was clear and not too cold. We began climbing up the face of the mountain and to our pleasant surprise, we felt great! One foot in front of the other, controlled breathing, this felt fine. Over the radio we here “¡Todos bien!” further reinforcing our confidence for the summit.
About an hour into the climb we reached a section where we had to traverse horizontally across the face of the mountain. The footing was solid; however, there were boulders of all size strewn about the barren landscape. As one of the guides in front of us walked we could hear small rocks breaking loose and tumbling down the icy slope, clicking and clacking all the way down at unknown distances from our party.
Eloy turned back and warned that we must traverse this section quickly as it is very dangerous due common rockfall. This was totally out of our control so I pushed the fear of rocks falling from above to the back of my mind and focused on hurrying across the hazard zone as quickly as possible. Month’s later we would realize how dangerous this section truly was...
After another hour of climbing we came up to an icy wall with a very long vertical drop on the right hand side of it… “La Pared”. It appeared that our route had disappeared. Eloy clipped the rope into a carabiner anchored into the rock overhead and thrust his ice axe into the wall to climb up. The wall was not incredibly large, but with limited climbing experience at the time it was nerve-racking. One mistake here and gravity was going to take over to abruptly end the expedition.
We made it over the wall, but between my nerves and the energy it required to pull myself up the wall at this altitude I needed to take a couple minutes to recover and stop hyperventilating. Once I could stand again we continued up.
About 3.5 hours into the climb my guide, Eloy, suddenly stops with a look of concern on his face. He tests the snow pack by carving out a square with his ice ax and punching the center. Gravity takes over and the square he cut out immediately begins to slide down the slope.
That was it… the slope was unstable. We had to turn back to avoid the high risk of avalanches. Just like that the dream was shot down with the priority of self-preservation.
We hiked down… disheartened at first… then laughing and joking with each other, after all we were in an amazingly beautiful place with good company after having attempted something truly amazing.
With the sun now hitting the face of the mountain we looked up, and sure enough could see multiple sections where the slope gave way and avalanched down the face. Our guides had made the right decision to keep us safe and allow us to return home.
As the sun was rising over Chimborazo I looked back at the mountain from the refuge and promised out loud “I will be back… I will be back.”
A one minute recap video of this failed attempt can be found here.
Restless in Boston
I returned home after an amazing first trip to Ecuador. Once I got into work for my first day back I powered up my computer and saw, on my desktop background, the amazing Mount Chimborazo staring back at me. There was no time to relax and regroup, I needed to stay in peak condition so that I could return.
I learned from my tour operator that a climber had perished on Chimborazo the night after our attempt. The climber had reached the summit; however, altitude induced respiratory failure struck during the descent. I kept this information to myself at the time and made a note to train hard and to remember when I return to Chimborazo that the summit is not the end of the effort, it is only the half way point, and not to get complacent.
The training continued daily. My obsession with the goal consumed me. After a couple months I booked a trip back down to Ecuador for May 2019. I planned 12 days, enough time to acclimate in Quito, attempt a summit of the Cayambe volcano (18,997’), trek to El Altar, and finally take on Chimborazo again with all my newly-added red blood cells. This would give me a window of 4 days to pick the best conditions for the Chimborazo climb in hopes of reducing the risk of having my dream thwarted solely by poor climbing conditions.
I invested in my own high quality climbing gear. I intended to reduce the risk of failure by as much as possible with this attempt. I needed to reach that summit. (And it just so happens a shiny ice ax makes a bad ass wall piece when not keeping you stuck to a mountain.)
I signed up for a couple half marathons and a triathlon to ensure I had enough goals at the proper intervals that I would not be able to slack on my training in the time leading up to my return to Chimborazo. I find incremental checkpoints to focus on working towards the greater mission are the best strategy for success as opposed to solely honing in on one massive over-the-moon goal from the beginning.
Harrowing News
A month before my flight to Quito I reached out to my tour operator to make sure everything was set for the trip and he had all of the information required.
After a few days I received an apology for a delayed response and the reason for said delay… one of the mountain guides had perished while bringing a client up the Direct Route of Chimborazo.
Once in Ecuador again I would come to find out that it was due to dangerous rockfall section described earlier in the route we had traversed in December.
The guide who passed was Telmo Tenemaza, who had been kind enough to assist us in December with bringing our bags back to the Chakara Lodge while assisting his own climbing client. These men spend nearly every night together working in the mountain lodges and climbing. It was obvious that losing Telmo was the same as losing a family member.
I should say I thought long and hard about the return at that point, but that would be a bit disingenuous… rock fall, ice fall, avalanches, injuries, and pulmonary edema were all calculated risks in this endeavor. It was a terrible eye-opening tragedy, but reaching the summit of Chimborazo remained my goal.
Rest in peace Telmo, from our brief encounter you were an amazing guide and person.
“I’ll be back”
Just as I had promised myself 6 months earlier. I landed in Quito again on May 9 where I met my driver and was transported a private room at El Patio, the hostel my tour operator had set me up with. It was late so I did a test pack of my gear and then made a plan for the next day. I had just gone from sea level to 9,000 feet with my arrival in Quito. I decided to continue to push the elevation higher the following day in an attempt to acclimate as quickly as possible, afterall I was supposed to be taking on the 19,000’ crevasse-covered Cayambe volcano in less than 48 hours.
I found the closest mountain to Quito, Rucu Pinchicha which was a relatively easy climb that could be completed self-guided and was only 20 minutes outside of the city. This climb would get me up to about 15,000’ and help push my altitude threshold a bit higher before Cayambe, all of which was part of the week long acclimatization plan to prepare for my return to Chimborazo. Despite my sea-level gringo lungs I was able to comfortably make it to the summit with a little huffing and puffing.
A short more detailed write-up on Rucu Pinchicha and how to get there can be found here.
Cayambe was a significant challenge but the 18,997’ summit was achieved 48 hours into the Ecuador trip and physically I was feeling amazing. I wrote a more detailed blog on the Cayambe climb here for any interested in learning more that can be found here.
(NOTE: I feel like I must note that it is not wise or common to acclimate as quickly as I did and that it is extremely dangerous for most people to do so! I am fortunate enough to not be drastically impacted by altitude and was in peak physical condition before attempting embarking on this adventure.)
I had been hearing rumors about poor weather conditions on Chimborazo that had halted summit attempts for the last month or so. Heavy wind and snow had been thwarting the summit attempts of all the recent groups, it kept some from even leaving the refuge. At this point all I could do was hope for the best. I still had a few buffer days and a trek to El Altar before my attempt at the main goal of the trip. I tried to remain positive and keep thoughts of Mother Nature crushing my dream at bay. “Focus on what you can control” I thought to myself.
I returned from El Altar on a Tuesday and was originally supposed to attempt Chimborazo after 2 nights of rest in Riobamba. Conditions still were not conducive to a successful summit. In checking the forecast it looked like there was a small possibility of a clear weather window in 3 days time, so I pushed my schedule back one day and had the Carrel refuge booked for Friday evening, May 17.
…Now I had 2 very anxious days and nights to kill in Riobamba.
In Plain Site
The day before the climb I decided to spend some time in Chimborazo National Park to gauge my chances of a summit by speaking with the men who run the refuge and see how climbers had been faring. I booked a downhill mountain biking excursion that began at the Chimborazo refuge. Once we arrived at the refuge, I walked past the Chimborazo cemetery again for the first time since December… I was here, I was back. Suddenly it all became real again. The lofty goal I had no business setting a year earlier was directly in front of me, and what an absolutely magnificent site it was that day.
I had never had a clear look at Chimborazo in person… every time I had gazed at the mountain before there was intense cloud cover keeping the upper half hidden, leaving the true beauty and scale of the mountain to my imagination. I had seen incredible photos, and even the outline of the mountain at night in the dark, but not on this day…. On this day, I was looking at the absolutely massive Chimborazo on a sunny, cloudless day. The snow-covered rocky face rose of sharply in front of me seemingly forever to the summit. This was the first time I had ever seen the closest point to outer space with my own two eyes. Emotions began to overflow. The mountain was absolutely magnificent and I felt an incredible sense of purpose and determination in that moment. I imagined myself walking over the final ridge and arriving at the summit. I felt an incredible sensation come over me just by imagining myself up there.
I began to think to myself why is it I came up with this idea in the first place…back to when I was a child and always was fascinated by mountains, or even just the highest place I could see at the time. Every summer driving from New York to Cape Cod I would look at the “mountains” that were really just 500 foot hills along Interstate 90 and wish I could go to the top of them. I’ve always wanted to go to the top of anything I saw really. It’s definitely not something unique to me… I think it’s something most people are drawn to. Why else spend money on observation deck tickets, or pay a premium for apartments on higher floors, or why did people start climbing mountains in the first place? While reflecting on that it feels like this wasn’t just an out of the blue idea, but a desire that’s always been there for me for as long as I can remember. Now here I am standing in front of an awe-inspiring massive mountain, looking at the highest point on Planet Earth. What an incredible journey from staring at the hills on the side of the Interstate in Massachusetts.
It’s interesting how many thoughts, memories, and realizations can come to you when your attention isn’t bogged down by electronic devices and constant sensory stimulation being thrown at you from every angle. There’s a certain clarity and focus that is only possible out there inside of your own head. Personally, this is my favorite part of these experiences. You can find out what your made of physically and mentally. You push your body to the limit and you have nothing but your deep uninterrupted thoughts for hours on end.
I spent the next few hours on the mountain bike riding back into town getting amazing views of Chimborazo from multiple angles. Once back into Riobamba it was time to focus.
The following day would be the day, finally it was time to climb Chimborazo again.
The Day
I woke up in the morning in the backyard of my tour operator’s home. He had converted what appeared to be an old animal stable into a 3-room hostel, that actually was quite comfortable.
My guide, Fausto, the same I had for Cayambe, was picking me up at 2:00PM to drive up the mountain for dinner just outside the park entrance and then into the park before it closed at 6:00 PM.
I took the morning to walk to my favorite breakfast spot in Riobamba, a Columbian café with amazing coffee and massive plates of bandeja paisa to begin fueling up for the task ahead. After a huge meal I paid $5 and then had to argue with the chef to persuade him to finally accept my tip.
I returned to my stable-hostel and laid in bed to relax my legs and prepare my pack for the night. I eased my mind by reading books and writing emails until after a few hours I heard a distinct beep beep from Fausto’s mid-90s Chevy Vitara.
Having spent 2 full days together with Fausto he felt like an old friend and I was happy to see him again. We set off towards the imposing Chimborazo towering over Riobamba.
After a hearty meal at the Chakara Inn with other travelers we continued into the entrance of Chimborazo Park just before the gates close for the evening and arrived at the Carrel Refuge just before sunset. In December I had stayed at the smaller Whymper refuge, higher up the mountain so I was shocked to see that the Carrel refuge actually had electricity for lighting at nighttime.
There were 6 other climbers in the refuge this night, 4 French climbers and 2 guides. The other climbers were just finishing up a late snack of bread and jam. I gave a quick nod hello and went up to find an unclaimed bunk to call mine for a few hours. Shortly after the rest of the climbers retired to their bunks and the room was filled with the sounds of restless tossing and turning as well as a few not so soothing snores.
The air was frigid and dry so I made sure to continue to hydrate while I lay to replace the water vapor I was exhaling with every breathe. I laid there drifting in and out of short half sleeps that only lasted a few minutes at a time listening to podcasts on my phone. My adrenaline was pinned from the anticipation of the task that lay ahead. I was nervous about beginning the climb without any sleep, but most important in this most was mental toughness and a clear mind so I pushed those anxious thoughts aside and did my best to relax and remain calm. We were taking the long route to the summit this time to avoid the dangerous rockfall section, which meant we would be starting earlier than my last attempt…. it was only a few short hours until the climb.
The Climb
At 11:30 PM the tossing and turning changed to a hustle and bustle as all of the climbers awoke and geared up for the climb. Downstairs in the kitchen a final pre-climb meal of coffee, bread, and jam was waiting to top off our carbohydrate fuel tanks before setting off into the night.
There was little wind on this particularly clear night. The temperature felt about 30 degrees F and there was no precipitation. In other words, the conditions appeared perfect. I tried my best not to get my hopes up too high immediately, there still was the potential for plenty of risks ahead.
We began working our way higher and higher and soon the only noises to be heard were our exasperated heavy breaths and the crunching of ice under our boots. I remember feeling amazing physically, we were flying up the mountain. Some clouds rolled in at about 18,000 feet just below us and the sight was incredible… Every star in the sky was shining brightly. It’s amazing just how many of them there truly are without light pollution overpowering the glow reaching our planet from millions of light years away. The moon which I was now closer to than ever before was full on this night and it lit up the top of the clouds which now made it feel like we were standing on a snowy island surrounded by an ocean of clouds. This sight alone would have made the entire climb worth it and we were not even 2 hours in.
Soon we arrived at the Castillo. The next challenge would be climbing under the sheer rock wall along a steep slope of ice. I remember looking to my right and seeing the abruptly steep ice face realizing that if I lost my footing here nothing would stop me from falling thousands of feet.
“Remain calm, you can only do this if you remain calm and focus.”
I remembered a mantra that particularly resonated with me. The goal was to reach the summit, but from the bottom of the mountain or even from half way up that goal seems insurmountable. Break that goal up into tony goals, and then smaller goals yet and eventually the next step is the goal. You take a step and then tell yourself “one more step” and then you repeat this over and over again, achieving these thousands of tiny goals that bring you closer to the summit. So “one more step” after another Fausto and I continued until we were on a landing suitable for a water and chocolate break.
300 yards down the mountain the headlamps of the other climbing groups illuminated small circles of the mountain in front of them. Something seemed off… Were they… getting further away?… Yes! They were. The other climbers had turned back! Now Fausto and I had Chimborazo all to ourselves. I felt disappointed for them, I knew that feeling of having to turn back, yet I also liked the thought of being the only group on that amazing mountain with nothing but ourselves and the desolate high altitude beauty surrounding us.
At about 19,000 ft I was looking at the final ridgeline to the summit. I was exhausted and the combination of altitude, physical exertion, and sleep deprivation had my head absolutely pounding like something was trying to break its way out of my forehead. It seemed like the summit was close yet when I asked Fausto how far we were he told me we had 2.5 hours to go. I soon found out why…
Above 19,000 feet the altitude seemed to become exponentially more difficult, the snow was deeper, the air was colder, and the wind blew harder. The “close” summit had been my brain playing tricks on me and we had a massive ridge to work up to still.
Now on the high ridge we were fully exposed and the temperature dropped precipitously. My fingers and toes went numb and any time I stopped working up the ridge to frantically catch my breath my entire body began to shiver. It was the most uncomfortable I had ever been in my life, but I remembered this is why I came here… I came to push the limits of my body and my mind. If it was easy the summit wouldn’t be rewarding. If it was easy I wouldn’t grow. I blocked all the physical discomfort out of my mind and focused on “one more step”.
“What are you made of? It’s time to find out what you’re made of”… I said out loud to myself as I let my mind override my exhausted body and force it to continue to push upwards.
I climbed and climbed like a man possessed. I could finally feel my goal in reach… all this time… all this training. I kept fighting my weary body with every step as my body got colder and colder. Until I noticed Fausto had stopped moving.
I had been so focused on my feet and my axe and taking one more step that I hadn’t looked up in quite some time. When I did I saw nothing but air and the night sky above me.
The Highest Man on Earth
“We made it?? …… We made it!” I said through heavy breaths as the wind blasted the already raw skin on my face. We had climbed faster than planned and arrived at the summit about 30 minutes before sunrise. Small ice penitentes surrounded us on all sides like we were in some kind of ice forest. A realization struck… I was one of the few people on the planet that would be fortunate enough to see this amazing place and because of that I made sure not to take it for granted.
I asked Fausto if we could wait for the sunrise to get the photo at the summit I had dreamed about for a year now, but unfortunately neither of our feet or hands were doing well and I was shivering uncontrollably at this point. To stand still on the summit waiting for the sunrise would be recklessly adding a serious risk. Fausto snapped a few photos of me using the flash and I savored the moment for a few minutes before taking my first step back to descend.
As I started walking back immense excitement and euphoria came over me. I had done it. For those few minutes this sea-level gringo was the highest man on Earth. Despite the growing discomfort, each step I took my smile grew wider.
Daybreak of the Nearby Sun
A half hour later we were slowly making our way down the long ridgeline when the sky began to light up with an amazing glow along the horizon. This is where the best photos and videos of the climb were captured. I was still riding an incredible high from having conquered my lofty goal. The skies were clear allowing me to see the Pacific Ocean hundreds of miles away and many of Ecuador’s other stratovolcanoes. The sharply defined shadow of Chimborazo enveloped the entire Riobamba valley below. I wished I could sit right there for hours and take it all in. The word awesome gets tossed around a lot, but this…. this was the true definition of awesome.
The Descent
Fausto and I continued to work our way down the snowy ridgeline one careful step after another. With every heel plant of my crampons the thin ice layer on top of the snow would crunch and move below me, forcing my body to expend more energy to stay upright. Several times my beaten legs gave out and my knee dropped into the snow with a similar crunch.
The cumulative effect of the time at altitude and the amount of time without sleep was beginning to hit me and the euphoria of the moment was replaced with a need to get down.
First was an excruciating headache. I felt as if something was expanding inside of my head and it was about to burst open at any moment. As if the throbbing pulse I felt would be visible to anyone looking at me. I paused to drink more fluids, take ibuprofen, and down another 125mg of Acetazolamide, but soon found that none of this gave me any relief. Rest would be the only savior, and for rest I needed to complete the descent. Waiting for someone to come help was not an option, the only way down was on my own two feet.
Descending the vertical wall over the Castillo was a test of nerves. With the toe of my crampons jammed into the ice covered rocks and the pick of my axe wedged in above, I looked over my shoulder could see all the way to Condor Concha at base camp. After a few minutes of careful holds and audible self-assurance I was off the wall and exhaled a sigh of relief.
For the descent Fausto elected the Direct Route that we had climbed up in the failed attempt in December. I was apprehensive of the dangers of rockfall with this route, but it also guaranteed the quickest descent to lower altitude.
About an hour later we reached the end of the glacier and we took a break to remove our crampons before descending the final steps to past Condor Concha and to the base camp.
Despite being totally exhausted, I was so high on life that sleep wasn’t an option. I had done it. I had achieved the goal I had no business setting in the first place. On that day I was the highest person on the planet.
Thank you so much for reading. Please check out the video of the successful summit climb HERE!
