| El Altar, Dutch ascent, Dec 91/Jan 92 Trip Report |
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| El Altar, Dutch ascent, Dec 91/Jan 92   | 
| Page Type: Trip Report Location: Ecuador, South America Date Climbed/Hiked: Jan 2, 1992 | Page By: dr zenn Created/Edited: Feb 7, 2006 / Object ID: 170838 Hits: 310 Loading... Page Score: 0% - 0 Votes Loading... Vote: Log in to vote |
On the 30th of december 1991, after two weeks in the country, we (Jan Gulden, Cas van der Gevel and Leo Zijerveld) finally set off towards El Altar. The main goal of our trip to Ecuador had always been the ascent of the Obispo (one of the tops of El Altar). Our problem initially was knowing where to go. The maps weren’t very good, the descriptions contradicted each other and the locals weren’t really useful either. When we reached the end of the dirt track after hours of driving, we had no idea whether we were even close to where we ought to be. Luckily, not soon after we got there, a group of climbers came down the valley, confirmed where we were and told us where to go next.
So we set off up the valley and after two hours arrived at a swampy meadow surrounded by the outlying ridges of El Altar. From there we headed to the right to a saddle on one of the ridges. There was supposed to be a cave were we could bivouac, but by the time we got to the saddle it was getting too dark find it. So we pitched the tent and used our last few drops of water to make some soup.
The lack of water (and snow) caused us to skip breakfast, and before heading for the “Italian Camp”, the next morning. Once you’re on the ridge this should take only an hour or three, and we were lucky enough for the clouds to lift occasionally, allowing us our first glimpse of the mountain. The “Italian Camp”, seemed the most logical place to pitch our tent. Our attempts to find better spots closer to the glacier failed. After setting up camp, we spent the rest of the afternoon relaxing and exploring the surroundings. At 18:00 hrs we celebrated new-years eve (trying to stay in tune with our friends back in the Netherlands), and then it was off to bed.
The first day of 1992 was a miserable one. It was raining continuously and we spent most of the morning indoors. By lunchtime the sky cleared up a bit and we ventured out onto the glacier to have a look at our intended route. The “Italian Route” looked do-able most of the way. Unfortunately the top bit was not visible. There seemed to be an alternative route around the corner to the right as well, although the mist was too low too investigate this option. By the time we returned to the tent, it was pouring it down again, and we were all getting slightly depressed with the thought of spending another day just waiting for the weather.
At 1:00 am the next morning it was misty, dry, and with a bit of imagination you could even see the stars shining through the clouds. It took us an hour and a half to get to the start of the climb. A steep narrow gully lead to the right onto an ice ridge and further onto the first ice field. After a small traverse and some short, steep ice pitch we got onto the second ice field after which we climbed almost to the top of a narrowing gully before moving onto dodgy rock. After a short scramble, we finally made it onto the crater rim. After all that we had made it to the top by lunchtime. We had emerged from the clouds and were greeted with the most amazing views of Chimborazo, Sangay, the crater-lake (a weird café latte brown) and the rainforest to the east. It was warm enough to strip off and have a relaxing hour enjoying the view and re-vamping ourselves after a great climb.
Oh, and then of course there was the descent, which included my worst slip ever on any mountain. It all started to go wrong after abseiling down the rocks from the crater rim onto the second ice field. There snow had become rather soggy, and started to ball up under our feet. We tried to knock the snow off with our ice axes. But close to the bottom of the second ice field my concentration must have lapsed and I found myself flying down at high speed. I managed to slow myself down considerably when I found myself shooting off the top of a steep step in the ice field. Now, flying in mid-air, I knew my end had come. I came down on the slope beneath the step with an enormous thud, and finally manage to come to a stop at within about 3 metres of an abyss. Thoroughly shaken, I got back onto my feet and decided never to go climbing again.
My apologies for the vagueness of the route descriptions, I don’t seem to have any more maps and my diary is pretty vague about bearings etc…
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Cordillera Oriental (Ecuador)
