Nathan vs. the Volcano

The volcano Villarrica is 9383 feet high and is one of Chile's most active volcanoes, with eruptions in the following years:

2010-2012, 2008, 2005, 1985-2001 (lava lake), 1984-85, 1983, 1980, 1977, 1971-72, 1964, 1963(?), 1960-61, 1958-59, 1950(?), 1948-49, 1938, 1935, 1933, 1929, 1921, 1920-29, 1919(?), 1915-18(?), 1910?, 1909, 1908, 1907, 1906, 1904, 1897-98(?), 1893-94(?), 1883, 1879, 1877, 1875-76, 1874, 1869(?), 1867-68, 1864, 1859-60, 1853, 1852(?), 1837, 1832, 1822, 1815-18, 1806, 1801, 1799, 1796, 1792, 1790, 1787, 1780, 1777, 1759, 1751, 1745, 1742, 1737, 1716, 1688, 1657?, 1647?, 1640, 1594, 1562, 1558.

Its current status is 'restless.'

And today, I set about trying to climb it.

I met with a dozen other people at the office of a local tour agency at 6:30 this morning. Furious winds had blown all night, and when I arrived, things didn't look good for the climb: the guides weren't able to get in touch with staff on the mountain, which probably meant the antenna had been blown down. They told us that they could drive us to the volcano to see how things looked, but they weren't optimistic; tomorrow might be better, they said. Just as we were all deciding what to do, they got the call: their contact on the mountain had just woken up. The weather was fine.

We all drove out together, after loading large packs full of various gear: crampons, outer-wear, helmets, ice axes, etc. The wimps(/non-cheapskates/sensible people) took a chairlift partway up the mountain, but I and several others started our hike from the bottom, which meant we'd be hiking up about 4000 feet.

Once we met the others at the top of the lift, and joined up with several other groups, we began hiking in earnest, and soon reached the remains of the previous chairlift, destroyed in the 1971 eruption of the volcano.

An hour after that, we reached the snowline, and began donning our gear. This was going to be a long hike.

Meanwhile, as the rest of us were fighting our way up the slope, this dog was happily strolling up and down the mountain as if does this kind of thing every day (which it probably does):

It was at about this point that the guides announced that we needed to stop and turn around because the ice was too hard.

Unhappiness ensued.

The guides talked amongst themselves, and finally decided we'd wait a little bit and see if the ice got softer. A half an hour later, we started tentatively making our way further up the slope, to see what conditions were like higher up.

Apparently, conditions were good, because we continued on.

Until, at long last, we reached it:

The crater.

This whole place smelled terrible.

And, finally, when we'd had our fill of taking pictures at the top...

We slid down the mountain on our butts.

The Chute.

THAT was fun.

Eventually, we ran out of track, and had to continue on foot. It had taken us almost 6 hours of some of the most strenuous hiking I'd ever done to reach the top of the volcano; we made it down in a quarter of the time, without breaking a sweat.

Followed, of course, by the obligatory cerveza at the bottom. I'm going to sleep very well tonight...