Monte Tronador (day 8)

It was nearly 7am by the time we all were finished with breakfast in the refugio. The rain had stopped, the wind was still howling, and we were putting on harnesses and checking on last minute things to get going. The morning was bright, if cold.



We set off to the snowfield, and when we got to the glacier, we stopped to put on crampons and rope up. The guides all roped up on one rope (mine) in order to be able to be more mobile and be able to get to anyone that needed help quickly. This gave them a great deal of autonomy and swiftness. I was on a 4-person team with Rodrigo, Xuxa and Emerson on Rodrigo's rope.
He was leader of our rope team, as he loves being able to be as independent as possible, and Emerson was second, as he is the strongest and best able to pull Rodrigo (the most likely to fall into a crevasse, being first) out. I was last. The other 7 separated into a 3 person and 4 person team.

Walking roped up is weird, at once constrictive, since you have to walk at the same pace as the person in front of you, stopping as soon as they do to avoid creating slack in the rope but keeping up, and also isolating, since, through the necessity of creating space between each person (no slack in the rope is what keeps you safe in case someone falls through) means you walk alone. Add the wind to the equation, and that means that any communication has to be yelled from one person to the next down the four rope teams, and that is the way our instructions traveled anytime one of the guides had something they needed to tell us.



We started off through one glacier, the same that we would have traveled to go to the summit. Mauricio was leader of his team, being the most familiar with glaciers in general and these in particular. We followed, with the other two teams behind us. We started climbing up and up a progressively steeper snow hill that was covered in a layer of ice after last night's rain. As I walked up, I realised the importance of remaining alert. There seemed to be no possibility of self-arrest on this much ice, which meant that avoiding falling was primordial. I stepped decidedly and carefully and made sure that, at any time, I had at least two anchor points: one foot and my ice tool. The view on the approaching mountain was amazing, and I stole a few glances.


We forked right before beginning the climb though, and went down to another glacier, this one called Frias. Unlike the other glaciers here, the way it faces means its waters travel all the way to the Atlantic Ocean rather than the Pacific. As it snowed a great deal this season, most crevasses were closed and invisible to us, and even someone as experienced and knowledgeable as Mauricio fell into one twice. Thankfully, both times it was only his leg that went through to his hip, and he was able to pull himself out alone. He used a variety of techniques to see things, including lying down along crevasses to feel inside of them with his hands. We watched and waited for his thumbs up before following in anywhere, at both wary and thrilled.

Gusts of wind also broke through to us, and it was impressive to see the people ahead of us get blown down by the strength of it, a wave traveling quickly to us. It gave us warning to brace ourselves, and a couple of times I simply threw myself down, ice tool firmly in the ice and firmly in my hands, as the wind tried to pick me off the surface and blow me away.

The head team, our three teachers, making their way between two huge crevasses. Traveling along a big one usually means it's fairly safe, as it is unlikely there will be another big one close by.

Since what is important is that the rope be perpendicular to the crevasses, we sometimes traveled one behind the other, and sometimes one beside the other, with the rope extended across the crevasses.
We often saw them at the last minute, much later than our teachers did. It emphasized how much we still had to learn

On our way down, approaching mid-day, the sun stared melting the snow, and it became difficult to advance. I often sunk to my hips and slid all over the place, with my companions doing little better. It was very tiresome, and we really got very warm doing that. It made obvious why most summits are attempted in the middle of the night, when the snow is solid enough to allow for cleaner travel than this sloppy sliding all over the place and sinking and falling, flaying from side to side. The guides looked fine, but I felt sure the rest of us were as inelegant as it is possible to be and not turn penguin.

We made a stop for lunch in a fairly safe place.

With Mauricio, Nativo and Maximo
We stayed roped-up and sat with our team members, each team a bit apart. Each team put in a snow stake, just in case. We ate quickly and drank warm tea. Stopping too long wouldn't do, we'd get too cold.
After 15 minutes we were off again, but as the snow was so mushy, we removed our crampons, which was lucky for Emerson; his had broken a bit earlier, and he had only been walking with one.
Rodrigo unsuccessfully trying to get Emerson's crampon back on.


We crested another hill and had to dis-rope to get through some rocky parts before having to go up a truly steep hill where we had to practice some other things we'd learned. Then we started off on the third and last glacier, Alerces. This one seemed a bit easier, but tired as I was, I felt it mentally demanding and looked forward to it ending. It led us back to our campground, where we all dis-roped again and felt wonderful about this amazing day that had taught us so much.

We felt elated, but also a bit sad. This was the end, although we weren't down yet. We were now on our own, launched into the open.

We hugged and backs were slapped, we made plans to have dinner together at the refugio rather than cooking, and spent a great evening going over things, sharing stories that it would take a book to relate. Maximo and Nativo were with us, and we enjoyed every minute.

I slept like a log this last night up on the mountain. As always. I didn't want to go, didn't feel quite ready to face ¨civilization¨again. But the group was already disbanding, making exciting plans. The cohesion has to be broken so that everyone can go home.