| I continued further upstream to a spot where the main channel of the river suddenly narrowed as the water violently bounced and thrashed over its riverbed. Without my full pack and oxygen-depleted lungs, I could have leapt across with relative ease, but now I instead stood and stared at this potential crossing with anxious dread. I looked back to the struggles of the two guys crossing downstream and my heartbeat quickened as my mind decided that I would attempt to jump across here. First things first, I took off my pack, cinched the straps tight and with an enormous effort, heaved it awkwardly towards the opposite bank. With a sigh of relief, I watched my pack land safely, if not a little clumsily, on the other side. Now for me. I moved away the larger rocks next to the river to create a small clearing for my approach. "How long should my runway be?" I pondered to myself. Too long and I risked mis-stepping on my take-off, but too short and I compromised my acceleration. I decided on three steps and tested the footing several times. As I stood and stared at the river, summoning my courage, I was breathing hard already as my heart raced. With a final surge of determination I sped forward and hurtled myself up and over the raging Horcones. My footing proved sound and my takeoff was better than I had hoped allowing me to fly through the thin air. As if in slow motion, I mocked the frustrated river below me as it tried to impede my progress. I landed safely on the other side with at least two feet to spare and with a shout of joy signalled to the others downstream that I had made it! I gathered my pack and walked back to make sure Christy made it across safely as well. She used her hiking poles, left her boots on and made her way at a slow, steady pace. As Christy waded through the swift water, a mule train heading down the mountain crossed the river just a short ways downstream. Even the mules slowed their pace to ensure solid footing as they splashed through the river. Now safely across, Christy's boots were waterlogged so she changed into my sandals to walk for the next few kilometres. Shortly after crossing the river we came to what looked to be Ibanez Camp, where we had planned to overnight on our original itinerary. To our horror there was no fresh water to be found anywhere near Ibanez and we were forced to press on as the trail now climbed up the edge of the valley away from the river. We were nearing the end of our water supplies and needed to stop for lunch so we checked our map and noticed that there appeared to be a few streams flowing down from the ridge to our right a little further up the trail. We pushed on and within a half hour came upon a small, muddy rivulet flowing across our path. Last night's heavy rains had obviously filled all flowing water from the higher elevations with debris making the water undrinkable and our water filter quite useless. Nearing exhaustion, we dropped our packs for a short rest, a rejuvenating bite to eat and a precious mouthful of our remaining water. During our stop, we were passed by a couple of German guys who told us they were hiking up to Ibanez to camp for the night. Confused, we said that they had just passed Ibanez about one kilometre back, but they pulled out their altimeter and claimed that it was not possible as we were not at a high enough elevation. We debated our location for a minute and although I was almost sure of our bearings, the digital readout on his altimeter made me doubt myself. Now our concern was not only water, but also the approaching nightfall if we were still so far from Base Camp! The trail's grade had become steeper and with the day's exertion and higher elevation, we had slowed our pace somewhat, but I was alarmed to think that we could be so far behind schedule. We finished our lunch break prematurely and hastily continued up the trail. |
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| In the upper Horcones Valley, the trail meandered along side the river for several kilometres gaining altitude so gradually it was almost unperceivable. The view up the valley appeared endless as we could see other hikers and mule trains in the distance, mere specks on the horizon back-dropped by the mountains, many kilometres away. We walked for a couple of hours up this featureless valley flanked by numerous huge unnamed peaks that were dwarfed by the snowy giant of Aconcagua, which, at this point of the trail, was out of sight behind the high valley ridge to our right. Unfortunately there wasn't much breeze on this day so we searched for shade to take a break. Thankfully the steep valley walls provided a little shade and a cool rest spot to drop our packs and have a bite to eat. Once again our crispy green apples hit the spot! Back on the trail, no sooner had we strapped on our packs when we encountered several wet crossings of the Horcones River's many channels. Splashing through in our boots, enjoying the cool water, most of these crossings were very shallow. But a little further on we ran into what would be the last and most difficult crossing of the day. |
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| The Reality by Brad Vaillancourt & Christy Stesky I awoke the morning of February 20 at base camp, short of breath with my head pounding painfully. After failing in my attempt to raise myself up from my sleeping bag, I found that I had no strength and just moving slightly induced waves of nausea. This wasn't good and even my oxygen-deprived brain knew it. We were on day 4 of our trek up Aconcagua. Plaza de Mulas, at over 14,000 feet, was our base camp, some 30 km from the trailhead at Puente del Inca. Only one day earlier we had been told of the death of an experienced climber due to high altitude pulmonary edema. Getting severe altitude sickness here was very serious and potentially life-threatening. |
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| Base camp - Plaza de Mulas |
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| Day 3 - Our day began late. The comfort of our sleeping bags was too much to resist and we slept in a little. The clouds had completely cleared and the bright, blue morning sky greeted us as we slowly packed-up. After a quick breakfast, we gorged ourselves with water from the last fresh stream we would see and set off towards Plaza de Mulas base camp at just after 10 am. Immediately past the beautiful cold clear stream, the trail began to climb via switchbacks out of the river valley and up the steep gravely banks to a plateau about 500 ft. above the river at Confluencia. We passed several small forks of the stream which flowed into last night's camp and we filled our bottles repeatedly. After a brief rest to catch our oxygen-depleted breath at the top of the switchbacks, we continued on into the heart of the massive Horcones Valley. |
| Roll mouse over picture to view Our tent, The Rescue Mules and The way up. |
| Our trek began on February 16, 2001 Day 0 - Puente del Inca (8924 ft.) To aid our acclimitization, we slept one night in this small town just a few kilometres from the Argentine-Chilean border. In fact, we hiked right past the border customs station on day 1 of our trek. We stayed at the hostel affiliated with Campo Base (Mendoza) for US$10 per night. A simple dorm style building run by a very nice man named Thomas. Many other climbers were coming or going from here also, which probably means this could be a good place to sell or trade gear if you desired. Puente del Inca (Bridge of the Inca) gets its name from the incredible natural bridge (photo) formed by the geothermal action of the sulphur hot springs. |
| Puente del Inca |
| The trailhead |
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| The Horcones River bridge- Day 1 |
| Day 1 - Puente del Inca to Confluencia Camp (10,900 ft.) We hiked for about an hour, partially along the highway past the border patrol building, to the Provincial Park Ranger Station at the entrance to Aconcagua Provincial Park. The rangers checked our permits and issued us trash bags. There is a US$100 fine if you don't return the trash bag full on the way out. Our hike to Confluencia took about 4 hours on a brilliant sunny and warm day with the massive snow-laden south face of Aconcagua in view straight ahead. We took an early lunch stop beside the tiny Laguna Horcones. About 30 minutes later, the trail climbing very gradually, we came to our first crossing of the Horcones River over a large permanent bridge (photo). |
| The Horcones River is so heavily laden with clay and sediment, it resembles chocolate milk. Therefore we had to search a little to find fresh drinking water from little streams flowing down from the sides of the valley. Shortly after we crossed to the right side of the river, the trail began to climb steadily and became increasingly hot and dusty as it wandered further away from the river. We took shelter from the hot sun in the shade of a small gully through which a muddy stream flowed. But our juicy green apples hit the spot! Not too much further on the trail became red and sandy and the grade evened out. Briefly we were above 11,000 feet before descending to cross the river again twice before reaching Confluencia Camp. |
| Confluencia - Camp 1 |
| Confluencia Camp (photo) is located on a small, flat area beside the muddy-brown Horcones River. To our delight there were several crystal clear springs flowing down the green grassy slopes. It was quite a picturesque setting for our first night's camp. We set up tent between two huge boulders that provided us a little precious shade, as the sun was significantly more searing at this high altitude. Several tour operators have seasonal tents and outhouses set up at Confluencia. |
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| Ibanez - Day 3 |
| Piedra Grande - Day 3 |
| The South Face - Day 2 |
| Day 2 - Acclimitization hike to near Plaza Francia (~14,000 ft). We hiked four hours steadily up towards Plaza Francia past the huge, dirty Lower Horcones Glacier. The views of the south face of Aconcagua became more incredible with every step and we took many photos. Besides being a little short of breath, we both felt fit and clear of mind the entire day. Later that evening, a spectacular lightning and thunder storm lit up the sky and echoed through the valley! Oddly, only a sprinkle of rain fell on our camp and we would discover later that most of the rain had fallen higher up on the mountain. |
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| We walked up and down the side of the former creekbed looking for any possible route across as the mud flowed down in dangerous surges but it was too wide, deep and fast so we waited...and waited...and finally the mudflow slowed and the volume eased slightly. We took advantage of the slower flow (in case it was only a lull before another wave) and began building a rock-bridge across a lower section of the mud-creek. The day was getting late and clouds were starting to form over the mountains surrounding the Horcones Valley so we worked with a hurried urgency since we were also still unsure of our distance from Plaza de Mulas base camp. After tossing several large boulders we managed to rock-hop across the mudflow with no more than our toes getting dipped into the muck. We continued on, proud of our successful crossing of the mudflow, thinking that we had overcome the mountain's best efforts to stop our ascent until only five minutes later we came upon Mudflow #2! But this mudflow was not quite the ominous surge of Mudflow #1 and we managed to rock-hop across with relative ease and were back on our path in no time. Several minutes later we passed the ruins of Lower Plaza de Mulas and we knew that we were on the right on track! Upper Plaza de Mulas base camp was only a short distance away at the end of the Horcones Valley up one last climb according to our map. Our pace quickened as dark, threatening clouds thickened in the sky foretelling an approaching storm. We reached the end of the valley just below base camp only to have to scale the Subida Brava (the hardy climb) passing by several dead mules, up a steep and exhausting climb of 200 metre elevation gain to Plaza de Mulas. Short of breath, we came over the rise at the top of the Subida Brava and Plaza de Mulas base camp came in to view...finally! Base camp was spread out at the foot of the Upper Horcones glacier. A small village of tents of all sizes, shapes and colours: very impressive and fulfilling to have finally arrived after a long and strenuous day. We dropped our packs and got some much-needed fresh water from the little streams that flowed from the melting glacier. We set up camp and made a delicious dinner of rice and pasta. We both had voracious appetites and felt good. We spent the rest of the evening visiting with other climbers from all over the world, some on their way up, some on their way down, but all full of tales of adventure! The clouds cleared and the night sky was an incredible star-studded canvas. The night was almost warm even at over 14,000 ft, although we were told it had snowed the night before when we had seen the thunderstorm from Confluencia. I fell asleep easily and slept quite soundly. Day 4 - I woke up on day 4 at Plaza de Mulas with a very bad headache. I had experienced this before when acclimatizing on Kilimanjaro and it had gone away after drinking a litre of water and popping a couple tylenols. But this was different. It was much worse. Acute Mountain Sickness: Extreme Fatigue: I was so incredibly tired I could barely prop myself up out of my sleeping bag to take a drink of precious water. Nausea: If it wasn't for my powerful aversion to and control of my vomit reflex, I might have thrown-up several times. Numbness: My hands and feet both went a little numb and tingly, likely due to lack of oxygen. So I lay in my sleeping bag for about 2 hours trying to will myself to feel better as the sun rose in the clear blue sky and the tent became quite warm. But when I got up to get some air and almost passed out I knew I needed help so I asked Christy to go get the base camp doctor. He came over and examined me and told me that I had the early stages of pulmonary edema. He measured my O2 levels at well below 70 which meant my blood was carrying far less oxygen that it had at sea level. My body was suffering and I could feel it! I didn't notice any wet sounds when I breathed, but the stethoscope heard the fluid that had started to form in my lungs and the doctor said that I had to be evacuated from the mountain right away! I tried to remain brave, but tears betrayed my disappointment and my oxygen-depleted brain didn't have the time or clear-thinking to rationalize my situation. Down is where I had to go. But since I could barely stand up and an approaching storm had kept any rescue helicopters from getting up to base camp this day it meant that I would be riding out on a mule! So with the amazing help of Christy, I got packed up and within 20 minutes of being diagnosed I was on my way down to a safer elevation. What took Christy and I two days to climb up took the mules only 4 hours to descend: a very bumpy, leg-cramping, butt-aching, precarious-edge walking, scary river-crossing ride down from Aconcagua. And the pain in my head, nausea in my stomach and fluid in my lungs improved with every step of the way down. By the time I was back at the ranger station near the road I was feeling almost completely better, besides the ache in my body from the gruelling mule ride! Meanwhile, the Amazing Christy packed up all the rest of our gear and hired some mules to carry all of our heavy gear and extra food back down and then she walked the entire way down all by herself on foot! She met me just after sunset at the hostel in Puente del Inca and I gave her a BIG hug! She smelled. I love her. As we looked back up towards Aconcagua which was enshrouded in the dark clouds of a powerful mountain storm, I pondered to myself, maybe we weren't meant to climb that mountain... Post-Aconcagua thoughts: How disappointed am I? When the base camp doctor first diagnosed me with pulmonary edema and told me that I had to be evacuated from the mountain immediately, I was scared, very disappointed and quite upset. All of our planning, preparation, money spent: gear and food and permits; all for nothing! I didn't even get a chance to leave base camp (going up anyway). It sucked! But I did the right thing (I had to tell myself this a few times). Going down was the best and really only thing for me to do. My health is the most important thing and as I bumped and bounced down the mountain on the back of my mule, the more I thought and realized that getting to the top of Aconcagua (or any mountain) should never jeopardize my life. I love the mountains and hiking but do I really need to get to the top of the biggest mountains? No, not really. I won't say never, but my reasons for hiking and climbing are freedom and fun, not extreme, risk-taking, competition. I love exploring the world by the power of my own two feet! So I am not as disappointed as I initially thought I would be. I am happy that I am healthy and I have learned (a little more) what is and isn't important in my life. I can be the champion of my own life...it doesn't have to be of the world. And I will keep hiking and climbing in Canada, where the mountains are a little lower, but the beauty is endless. I might try a big mountain again someday, maybe, if I am truly motivated. We'll see. A second attempt at Aconcagua? I don't think so. And that's okay. |
| Hot and dry! |
| I took off my boots to wade across the river at a particularly sandy spot where it wasn't more than shin-deep. The river water was surprisingly cold considering the air temperature was well above twenty degrees Celsius with the searing heat of the sun shining through the thin atmosphere making the day feel very hot. Back in our boots, we continued on the trail towards the Piedra Grande (photo). Piedra Grande is a huge red boulder lying in the middle of the valley, an ancient reminder of glacial deposition and the last major landmark in the valley for several kilometres. In the shade of the big rock we stopped briefly for a drink of water, but only a mouthful as we didn't expect to find fresh water until Ibanez camp still seven kilometres further and we had no intention of drinking from the thick, silty Horcones river. |
| The trail climbed a small rise before it actually descended slightly towards the first of several wet crossings of the Horcones River this day. As we topped the small rise we got our first view of the entire Horcones Valley: a massive u-shaped valley, devoid of vegetation, filled with red-orange rocks (almost Mars-like) of all sizes and housing the many braided channels of the brown Horcones River as it meanders its way out of the Andes on its course to the Atlantic. |
| Just before Ibanez Camp the valley narrowed, just enough to force most of the smaller river channels into two or three wide, swiftly flowing river branches. A couple of guys heading down the mountain were walking up and down the banks of the river on the opposite side searching for a safe place to cross with no success. After a quick assessment, Christy and I decided to split up and search the banks of the river for the best place to cross. I looked upstream where the river was less wide, but flowing fast and deep as it was pressed through the narrow valley walls while Christy looked downstream, where the river was wider yet shallow as it escaped the narrows and began to braid out. The two guys attempting to cross the river from the other side were also downstream when I noticed that they were about a quarter of the way across the river, moving very cautiously across a wide, shallow spot. But the river was still flowing quickly and even from my vantage point nearly 100 metres upstream, I could tell that they were having difficulty staying balanced in the knee-deep water on the unstable footing. Christy waited and studied their progress, preparing herself for her attempt once they had made it across. |
| Less than 30 minutes later we caught up to the German hikers sitting atop a crest in the trail (photo). As we climbed the ridge they sat shaking their heads, pointing at something out of our line of sight on the trail ahead. As Christy and I crested the rise, we finally could see what the Germans were so troubled about. Last night's storm had transformed the once small stream that crossed our path into a massive, overflowing mudslide! The mud ebbed and flowed, sometimes surging forward so powerfully it carried huge boulders downstream! We met a third hiker, a young man from Israel, halted by the mudslide as well. And we all stood staring in wonder at how we would pass this unforeseen obstacle! |
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| Aconcagua |