Backpacking South America

Some days I feel like I am, like the day I packed up my whole life and said yes to travelling South America, without any real agenda or true knowledge of the language. Sure, some might not classify that as fearless, but I think maybe you would if you knew me. That was a big step. But then, some days, I am so far from fearless that you could touch my fear with a 10 inch twig – it lingers and is on full display. What can I say, some days I’m more chicken than others? But FEAR is something we all have. We’re all afraid of something. It’s just that some of us are better at hiding it than others. And some fears, like eating guinea pig, aren’t as big as other fears, like never allowing yourself to get too close to somebody because you’re afraid to get hurt or never attempting to reconcile differences with people because you’re afraid of how it will change your life. I could go on and on.

But for me, I’ll be honest. There are lots of things I fear. I fear disappointment, change, mostly the unknown, totally mice, but most definitely heights. Some of these fears bother me more than others only because some of them actually hinder the way I live. So, I won’t build my house on 200 foot tall stilts and I won’t store hay in my kitchen for the mice to live in (yes I know I need a bigger solution to keep those little rodents out). Change and the unknown are inevitable, so I would mark them at about “2” on a fear scale of 1-5. However, please tread lightly when it comes to heights. It lingers at the cusp of “5.”

Yes, I am afraid of heights. In fact, all my fears combined create a big fear bubble when it comes to heights. For as long as I can remember I have been afraid of heights. When I was a kid, I was scared to climb in the hay stacks. I did it, but I was still scared. Maybe because I was afraid I’d find mice. I struggled to climb lighthouses (I still do). My legs just give out. When I was in eighth grade, I had to turn around half way up the Statue of Liberty. Sure, I hike, but I don’t get too close to the edge, and I even get nervous when somebody else does. You can’t say I haven’t tried to overcome this fear, I have, many times, but man, I just can’t kick it.

Despite the fear, I’m often more afraid of what I’ll miss, who I’ll disappoint if I don’t attempt it, or perhaps more importantly, disappoint myself when I can’t do it.

So, today was a big day – we were on our way to climb the active, 9000 foot Volcan Villarrica while in Pucon, Chile. I went into this feeling pretty strong, definitely a little frightened deep down, but pretty determined to grit my teeth and get through this. Volcan Villarrica is Chile’s second most active volcano, but has not erupted since 1985. However, about two weeks ago there was an avalanche on the face the hikers climb, which fortunately injured only a few people. In response, they have placed new regulations on climbers. You must reach the top by 1:00PM; otherwise, you must turn around. Most tour agencies send 1 guide per 3 people and are not permitted to bring more than 20 people per day up the mountain. However, there are probably close to 15 or so tour agencies, so there are several hundred people climbing this mountain each day and if the weather is not good, you don’t go. They outfit you with all the gear: pants, jackets, boots, gloves, helmet, crampons, ice pick, etc.

I woke up this morning feeling very energized – awake and ready to take this thing on. We drove to a ski area and hopped on a ski lift: obstacle number one conquered. I can do ski lifts, but this one was really steep.

At the top of the lift, we received our instruction and were soon climbing …one foot in front of the other…one step, two steps, one step, two steps. I focused on the footprints in front on me and told myself, whatever you do, don’t look down. Sure there are switchbacks, so it’s not super steep, but seriously, if you fall, you have nothing to grab on to. You better know how to use that ice-pick or hope the snow breaks your fall. My own worst enemy is my own mind.

It’s about 4 hours to the top, depending on the pace. I felt like we were keeping a good pace. After the first hour we took our first break. I was hanging in there, finding my rhythm until I looked out and saw just how high we were and then I looked up and saw just how much more we had to climb. Ok. Deep breath. Onward. We continued climbing; Jared was in front of me. It was a good day to climb. It was beautiful; the fog was burning off the lake below us. The sun was out. It was pretty good snow, but a few ice spots, but not too bad once I got over them. Then, it was “Jared, I don’t think I can I do this.” “Babe, you’re doing great. Do you want to stop?” “No. I’m just not sure I can do this. Don’t walk to fast, make good footprints. I’m scared.” “Okay, just stay close.” I kept moving on…pushing all the negative thoughts to the back…praying for strength. It was like scaling a cliff. There was no flat area to just stop and turn around.
Plus, now I got myself up here. How am I supposed to get down?

Finally we arrive at our second stopping point – a semi-even rock outcropping. We stop, take a breather, drink some water, and eat some food. We’re now at our half-way point and it’s only getting steeper as we approach the top. We are probably somewhere around only 7500 feet. I felt pressure that I needed to make a decision to either continue on or to turn around. I didn’t know what to expect in the next leg of our climb. What if I can’t do it? What if it’s too hard? What if I fall? What if it’s really steep? I was swallowed by the fear of the unknown and not being able to do it, that I resigned to being defeated and turned around. Sometimes in life you just have to do the things that scare you the most and give it your all. And sometimes, you just have to realize your limitations and give yourself credit for at least trying.

So that is where we parted. Jared journeyed on and I happened to have the time of my life sledding down the mountain (with my guide, of course, which is the only way to get down)! Now, if only I could have I mustered up enough strength to climb a few more thousand feet, I’m sure the ride down wouldn’t have been that bad.

So, it was a big day…baby steps. It would have been an even bigger day if I were able to summit and conquer both the mountain and my fear. Regardless of the fact that I couldn’t climb an active volcano at 9000 feet high because I was AFRAID. I am determined not to quit trying to conquer this fear. One of these days my heart is going defeat my head!

Here are some other photos from the hike: