Aconcagua Story

Page 5

Camp Two 19,700ft

Jim and Mike lived in the North Face tent, Dave lived in the Mountain Hardwear tent

We were sharing a two man North Face Mountain Tent. It was small and cramped. We cooked with a hanging stove suspended between us. Occasionally the gasket would leak and the whole stove apparatus would be bathed in flames. The first couple of times it happened we really panicked and jumped but after a while we just calmly turned off the gas and blew out the flames.

Perhaps they intended them for two small children, oh well, they tasted good.

The Argentine group also arrived at Camp Two. One of them, German, was very outgoing and he spent a lot of time by our tents. He spoke English well and was very enthusiastic about the climb. He told me that he and three of his team were going to do the Polish Glacier Direct the next day.

"That's our route!" I thought to myself. Wondering if we wanted to be on it at the same time as another group.

"What time are you going to start?" I asked casually.

"At four o'clock or so," he replied.

"Oh, okay." I said thinking, "Good we plan to start at two o'clock. We will be well ahead of them."

Later he came by again and talked to Jim, Dave and the South Africans while I was resting in our tent. I remember that when he spoke English he had a funny accent. he had come to see if any of us wanted to sell gear. It is very difficult to get climbing gear in Argentina. 

     Jim and I bundled out of our tent into the cold wind 2:30am. We were angry with each other again. He at me because he felt that I was too irreverent about the dangers on the climb. I at him because now that we were down to it he was having second thoughts about the route. 

 The day before we had had an argument.

He asked, "How much water ice four [grade] have you lead?"

"Not much," I replied. "But this is not water ice four."

We reconciled but there were still doubts. I was supposed to be the one with experience and I did have lots of experience climbing steep snow and ice but I understood what he was trying to say. Were we ready to tackle a three thousand-foot climb on snow and ice that was as steep as 70 degrees? Most of it was easier than that but the hardest part counts the most. The route begins at nearly 20,000-ft and it was going to be an enormous effort.

Jim and I had not climbed together very much on this kind of terrain. The only similar mountaineering we had done together was a weekend trip to Mt. Rainier. We were successful there but this was a different league. Now in the freezing morning I knew that we were not going to go very far on the route. The energy was wrong. It was just an exercise getting up and starting out. We were just going through the motions but neither of us wanted to point it out.

Bitter cold, the wind was blowing and my fingers became numb right away. Everything took a long time to do, putting crampons on, packing packs. It was brutal and it sucked. We were just about ready. I was already frustrated with Jim. Then he couldn't do his crampon straps they were too short.

    "I can't get them," He said.

    "We cut the straps to fit Aminda's boots," he continued, "they used to be too long."

    Then as I crouched over his heel slipped his foot shot forward and the crampon point grazed my hand. It stung but did not break the skin.

    "Sorry, sorry, are you okay?"

    I didn’t say anything, just tried to shake it out and then stuck my hand inside my coat and under my armpit. Eventually we got the straps done. We put our packs on and started out. My headlamp batteries were almost dead. My fingers were cold so I didn't want to change them. The beam barely illuminated the snow in front of me. I turned it off. After a while Jim said, "Can you turn your light on I can't see where you are?"

    I turned it back on and beamed it toward him as he came up the ice toward me.

    "Something is wrong I feel like shit," he said.

    "Okay," I said, "Lets go down." I took a couple of steps down toward him.

    "No, lets keep going." He said, "I don't know what it is I felt much better yesterday. Let's just go for fifteen more minutes."

    So I started out again. I knew that I was not ready either. I was sure my water bottle was frozen or would be soon and I had too much clothing on my legs they were already sweating. My pack was too heavy also there was a stove, fuel, and lots of extra clothes a bivy bag and a rope. Way to much crap to carry on this route.  I was simply not ready to do the climb either. Jim was solving the problem for me though, if it were a test of wills I was winning.

    "Mike," he said, "I can't do it man, I have a headache and now I feel nauseous."

    "Okay let's go down."

    "I'm so sorry, I don't understand. I was fine here before."

    "It's okay, it happens."

    "What do you think it is?"

    "Altitude sickness," I lied. I knew that we were not into doing the route. It was too big and scary. 

    We got back to the tent and crawled in. Then we listened to Dave D'Angelo get up and head out. He was climbing with the Canadians who invited him attempt the summit on the Traverse route with them since Jim and I were planning the Polish Glacier. As it got light it sounded like he was still in his tent because the wind was rattling his stove around.

    Jim felt a lot better but decided to go down to Camp One to spend a night and recover anyway.  I still wanted the route and planned to do it that night.  I did not say anything to Jim about my plans go solo. He would not have liked it and he may have talked me out of doing it.

    I slept for a while after Jim left. Once he was gone I felt remorse for the way we had been that morning. A good friend is worth more than a moment of glory on a frozen pile of rock and ice. 

Eventually I got up and looked around the camp. It was mostly deserted. The Argentine climbers had started up the glacier. They had started pretty late and were only at about 21,000-ft. I would continue to watch them closely all day because I planned to do the same route the following morning.

    I was feeling a little bit lethargic and groggy so I decided to get some blood flowing and hike up to the Independencia hut at 21,000-ft.  I put my plastic boots on and headed up the trail. Hiking felt good and soon the cobwebs cleared. The day was spectacular, the sky a deep blue and wisps of spindrift danced along the Polish Glacier. Before long I met one of the Canadians, Dave Pugliese, coming down. He looked absolutely spent and he had not made it to the top.  A while later I saw Dave D'Angelo, he was sitting and had just taken a nap next to the trail. He had made it to about 21,600ft before deciding that he had had enough. I continued and before long I made it to the Independencia hut.   Three Swiss climbers were there. The leader was pulling on an inscribed bronze monolith that had been inside. It must have been put there by some organization related to the mountain. He was violently wrestling the thing toward the door. I couldn't tell what he was up to or if he was just trying to get it out in the sun for a picture. Eventually he saw me standing right behind him and stopped and walked away. Weird.

Independencia Hut on Aconcagua

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