Jew vs. the Volcano

Ryan and I woke up bright and early on Sunday morning to tackle Volcan de Pacaya, the nearest active volcano to Antigua. A little shaded out about having to walk the relatively dangerous streets in the middle of the night (it was 5 in the morning), we briskly trotted to the planned meeting spot to catch the bus to the volcano. We met Kennedy (the sweet English girl) at the bus and headed out. The bus was pretty full and included a couple of armed guards as there have been some problems, historically, with thieves preying on hikers aqui en Guatemala. The bus ride was about an hour and half and we slept some of the way, but it was hard not to notice the beautiful scenery since the trip offered some amazing views of the triplet of volcanos ringing Antigua (Agua, Fuego, and Acatenango, Air and Earth remaining unrepresented).

We arrived at the base camp at around 8 and met our guide. He informed us that the hike was only around 3 km. long but that in that, in those 3 km., we'd be ascending around 800 meters. Not terrible but nothing to sneeze at steepness-wise. We ate some muffins, drank some coffee, and set off.

I'll spare the gritty details of the hike up. It wasn't the hardest hike I've been on (that would involve a marmot, a glacier, and two coercive assholes...though I was glad at the end), but it wasn't totally easy. The steepness was definitely enough to lead me to go into my patented drenched-in-sweat mode, which is, as many of you know, my most seductive state. Along the way, there were vistas out over a valley with a lake in it over which was rising steam and smoke from volcanic vents.

At other points, we were met with magnificent views of Antigua's three volcanos shrouded in clouds. Because we were so high up at this point, however, the tips of the volcanos were peeking out from the mist, offering a really breathtakingly beautiful sight.




So anyway, I huffed and puffed my way up the rock. It took us about an hour and fifteen minutes to make the climb (our group had about twenty kids in it, none of whom Ryan, Kennedy, or I knew...or so we thought). When we got above treeline, we saw Pacaya's summit for the first time. It's hard to capture with a photo (even when our guide joined us), but seeing it and being there was really transfixing...






At the foot of the volcano's cone is a lava field that has built up over time. Some of the group (including us) made our way down this absurdly treacherous path (butt sliding was involved and a wrong step could land you in lava) from the ridgeline over the lava field down onto the field itself. It was really cold above treeline, but down around the lava it was (surprisingly surprisingly) hot. It was acceptably hot normally (like maybe around 100 degrees Farenheit), but when the wind gusted across the field, everyone basically just had to close their eyes and hold their breath because the heat was really an oven-level of unbearable. It was intense to be walking over something that you could see igniting the foliage that got too close to it at the perimeter of the field. Another interesting and unique aspect of the lava field was the smell: it was kind of reminiscent of barbeque but had a vaguely mineral flavor that I can't really describe. It was very striking and really added to the place. Here are some shots of the lava field from the ridgeline and of the view in the distance from the same.








In what was undoubtedly one of the (if not THE) most reckless thing I've ever done in my entire life, I made my way out about 20 feet over the field to get up close to one of the lava flows. To get there, I literally had to step between rocks that, when I looked down, were clearly floating in lava. I could see the cracks between them glowing bright orange and, as you made your way out into the field, you could hear more and more clearly the *sound* of rocks cracking and melting, the sound of the lava flowing and of gases and steam venting. It was totally crazy. I took a bunch of pictures of the lava and the field, but I'm sorry to say that many of them didn't come out that great. The colors were hard to capture and I was kind of preoccupied with keeping my footing and not inhaling 300 degree air. Some of my friends got better pictures that I'll try post in addition to these when I can get my hands on them. I also have some sweet movies of flowing lava up close and panoramics from the ridge line. Anyway, here's what I got (that's Kennedy -- the redhead -- in the group picture at the end, and a pretty cool shot of the field from the ridgeline to give some perspective -- check out the people standing down in the lava field where near where we had been -- right before that).









We made our way down (after grabbing some igneous souvenirs) at a brisk pace. About ten minutes into the descent, I was talking to Kennedy about college and I mentioned Amherst (where I went). A girl near me perked up and said something to the guy she was with who nodded. Intrigued, I asked if one of them knew of Amherst and it turned out that he'd gone there. "What year?" I asked, and he responded "2002." Pretty ridiculous. So I happened to run into Paul Heller, this classmate of mine (out of a 400 person class, mind you) on a volcano in Guatemala. It was kind of weird that we hadn't recognized each other (he said I looked familiar, but I don't really remember him). So we spent the walk down talking about our mutual friends (Hi, Drew and Jay), catching up on what we'd been doing, and catching each other up on what we knew of others from our class. Very funny.

Bus ride back was uneventful. Ryan and I were in a rush to shower and change so we could meet up with folks to watch the World Cup finals at Los Arcos Reds. We made it there by half-time and had a nice time, though I wasn't really in physical condition to drink after my abnormally athletic morning. It was definitely fun to watch the Cup finals in a Latin American country, but we were disappointed that Brazil (or any other Latin country for that matter) hadn't made it; that would have been wild.

After the game, our buds who were visiting from Xela caught the bus back and the rest of us went out for a while before going back home. It was the end to one of the craziest, most adventuresome, most beautiful weekends of my life (I think Ryan would agree). Really amazing. A fitting last weekend to such an incredible trip. We went into the next week knowing that Ryan would depart on Tuesday and I would leave on Friday, determined to make the most out of what time remained.