Izta and Orizaba in 6

I have always wanted to climb Orizaba ever since I learned about it. I first learned about the peak and its sheer elevation (18,400 feet) on my second trip to Mexico, backpacking during my Junior college break. I tried to convince my backpacker friends to give this summit a shot (they all are non climbers) but they balked, saying, "This is spring break!! we should be drinking!!!" 

The clouds parted, we finally saw the ever elusive Izta. From this sight, we knew Izta would give us a handful. 

While we were on our way up to the hut, it started snowing. At first it was minor, but it grew profusely. The snow went on all night, and next morning it was an all out snow climb. Shana and Scott brought their crampons but I didn't. Long story short, the hiking boots i had on were not crampon compatible. So i chose comfort over power, but it turned out to not be a problem.  

While we were climbing, I started to feel worse and worse. I didn't get much sleep the night before (30 mins max) and I had difficulty eating. I was feeling a bit funny, but thought it was my body adjusting to altitude. However, as the sun dawned, and we continued to climb, I started to have this sensation where I wanted to throw up. I ignored it, and was able to continue on. Scott seemed to be doing well. Shana was doing magnificently. No slope, rock, or movement seemed to scare her. Altitude didn't seem to bother her as well, as she often led us out in the front. Scott and I looked at eachother, "oh man, this is HER first mountain and she is outperforming us!?!?" At first I privately thought that it was beginner's luck and that she didnt realize that mountaineering is not a sprint sport, but rather a long monotonous marathon. But nope, she pushed on gaily. As we crested over several fake summits, I started to feel downright awful. It has become all out struggle for me, as i paused and wheezed every ten steps. I thought, "Altitude is at work here, nothing more...toughen up bastard!!" The summit finally came into sight, and it was so close. It was also when I spat out blood. Red blood. I couldn't believe it at first. The red blood served as a stark contrast from the pearly whites of snow. Red and white? My altitude befuddled brain tried to assess the situation. Red and white? Shit, cannot be good. Scott and Shana made it to the summit while I was lying, wheezing a mere 200 feet below. I have heard stories of climbers turning around a mere 300 feet from summit on Mt. Everest. I always wondered what they were feeling at the moment and why they couldnt just pushed for other 300 feet. But now, I found myself in that position. The summit was right there, clear as a polar bear in a rainforest. It was in plain sight. But my body couldn't react to my mind's ministrations. Finally, at one point, I'm not sure when, My body listened my mind and clambered over to the summit. 

It was not until later in the base camp hut of Pico de Orizaba, not until I read the sign posted there about AMS (Acute Mountain Sickness) that I finally realized that I had AMS. Make no mistake about it. Shana and Scott were shocked as well, since three of us never had encountered this type of experience. What makes it even more harrowing is that the sign in hut was donated by a family whose son died on Orizaba due to AMS. He was 23 years old. My age. We all learned a lesson, and what is better teacher than experience itself? 

4x4 jeep took us to the base camp of Orizaba. The vehicle's maximum speed was like 25 mph, so that took a while. We rather enjoyed the scenery on the way. Views of Orizaba from the jeep was pretty intimidating.

As stated previously, we left the hut at 2:50 am and made our summit push. At the night, sometimes it is easier to only follow your circle of vision from the head lamp and plod upwards, uncaring of everything else. We got in and out of the Labyrinth just fine. It took us longer than we thought it would take, but then again, Orizaba is a massive one. The last 1/2 mile of the Labyrinth was surprisingly steep, and that was when the winds started hit us. As you can see from the picture above, the wind was blowing at us headfirst. We stopped and huddled beneath one of the rocks and waited a bit for sun to come up. We were shaking from the cold, stampeding our feet and toes, and seeing the glorious scenery that was unfolding beneath us. It was one of those moments where you ask yourself....why am I here? It was as if the life you have had all led to this one culmination point, this NOW, present feeling that you are exactly where you are supposed to be. 

The climb was a slog fest. It was all up up up and more up. It never seemed to end, and there were always more snow in front of you. I continued until i saw the sky instead. As I  was reaching the summit, my legs gave out underneath me and i fell on the plateau. I, then, let out the scream of a conqueror. We stayed on the summit for about an hour, the sun shone on us brilliantly and there was not even a whisper of wind. 

All in all, definitely a fun trip. Shana wowed both scott and I with her majestic performance. I mean, who in their right mind, would climb Izta and Orizaba as their first two peaks?!? She has proven that she is an extraordinary athlete, and one day would make an exceptional mountaineer. 

For the climb itself I would rather Izta over Orizaba, but for the overall summit experience; Orizaba reigns supreme.   

Shana made an excellent video of the trip; https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gxdu9u7Lqys&feature=youtu.be