2nd Amendment

While last weekend's trip to Volcán Acatenango was a brutal, soul crushing experience in many aspects, it was not without its moments of glory, beauty, and fun.

Glory for conquering what at times seemed unconquerable.

Beauty in the paisajes and scenery that surrounded us.

And fun for the guns.

Don’t get to thinking that I trekked a day and a half with 10 Guatemalan soldiers armed with automatics, pistols, and machetes and did not bother to ask to at least feel the power of cold, hard death in my hands.

Before making our descent Sunday morning from the campsite our security detail got a bit restless waiting on our group to pack up. While my good Canadian friend Kat and I run on good old North American values, like punctuality, our Chapin counterparts were running behind schedule (surprise, surprise). While Kat took to snapping photos of her bag of Beef Jerky at 4,000 meters above sea level to pass the time, the soldiers had a better idea in mind.

Kat's photo shoot with the Jerky

A few, giddy soldiers made their way to a small hill by our campsite and I began to wonder what was stirring. I soon heard, “We’re gonna go shoot some shit if anyone is interested…” (loose translation), and like a good American I sprang into action.

At such altitudes we quickly realized there was nothing much to actually shoot at. Options included: 1) a grassy shrub, 2) some lava ash, and 3) the clouds. As none of these were neither exciting nor logical, we were excited when someone finally rummaged up an empty can of beans. With blustery winds at the top of the volcano it was hard to get the can to stay still, but nothing was going to rain on this shooting parade and some determined soldiers put the defenseless can into place.

Guatemalan soldier firing at nothingness

Soldiers went one by one: Shoot. Miss. Pass the gun. Repeat. Not too impressed by the accuracy of their shots I began to see why Guatemala might be losing the war against better-trained, Mexican drug cartels. With credit given to their argument that the strong winds affect the bullet’s trajectory, I respectfully remain skeptical of Guatemala’s GI Joes.

However, I of course was not much better at all. I completely missed the target and your guess is as good as mine as to where that bullet ended up after making its way over the volcano-side. However, none of that takes away from the glory of firing my first *real firearm.

Me shooting just as poorly

*The Emeott household did have at least 2 BB Guns while growing up, which certainly do not classify as real firearms. As an aside, this is certainly one of the most unsafe purchases a family can make for boys ranging in ages 9-15. Two instances come to mind in support of this assessment: 1) placing a willing friend into a large cardboard drum so we could shoot at him in our own version of “shooting fish in a barrel,” and 2) arming 1 friend with the BB Gun and another neighborhood friend with a bow & arrow, so we could have them “play” Cowboys & Indians. “Play” defined as the two running around our backyard shooting their respective weapons at each other until 1 surrendered.

Note: the friend designated to play the Indian is of Middle Eastern descent, which was an innocent mistake at the time and not racial profiling due to his brown skin.

We then took advantage of the next few minutes before descending from the volcano to snap a few power photos. Not able to fire the automatic weapon, I still felt pretty big just holding that guy in my cold, dead hands!

Protecting the volcano

Kat and her guitar

Speaking of Sherpas

My older brother Brian moved to Nepal earlier this year with his wife and has braved higher altitudes than I.

Check out their recent adventure on the Annapurna Circuit in Nepal here. Really cool pictures of impressive mountains and landscapes as well as great tips for the amateur hiker looking to perhaps tackle Mt. Everest soon.

Their experiences during multiple hikes in Nepal served as inspiration (as well as helpful advice) before tackling Volcán Acatenango. Plus, they have plenty of cool stories to share from Nepal on a very frequent basis.

Swing by and check them out: http://www.thekathmanduo.com/

Plus, a cool banner designed by my other brother, Luke.

Sherpa

This past weekend a friend of mine from work and I had the chance to go on a volcano climb/hike with some local Guatemalan friends. Atacanango is the third highest point in Guatemala (and all of Central America) clocking in at roughly 4,000 meters above sea level. Compare that to Mt. Everest at a nearly impossible 8,800 Meters, Atacanango is not much to brag about; however, compared to Volcán Tajumulco, the highest point in Central America (also in Guatemala) at 4,220 meters, it’s not to be taken lightly.

Acatenango (middle peak) on a bus ride from Antigua

Especially if you’re not an avid hiker, Acatenango is not to be taken lightly. I’ve gone on a few day hikes through Shanendoah National Park outside of the Washington DC area as well as a steep 3 hour hike to the top of Volcan Pacaya (2,500 meters, by the way for those of you keeping score at home), so I had a little hiking experience to get me through the beast of Acatenango.

Our trip started at 4 AM in Guatemala City as I was told we would be picked up by my friend and on our way out to Chimaltenango after a quick stop by her house to gather everyone and their belongings. Not surprised by the tardiness given they all run on Latino Time, I stayed calm as we departed one and a half hours beyond schedule. Not without the usual “oops, I forgot something…” we had to make a return trip home before finally setting off towards the volcano for good.

Upon arrival to Chimaltenango (the city where Volcán Acatenango rests), we were greeted by a truck of 10 soldiers who accompanied us on a drive to the base of the volcano. We parked our cars, gathered our packs and began what would be a hellish trek to the top.

Our security detail once at the top of the first volcano peak, Yepocapa

Only with a general knowledge that this would not be a stroll through the park and last roughly 7 hours, I was not quite sure what to expect regarding the level of difficulty. After the first 30 minutes I was winded and one of our group members was ready to call it quits, which quickly helped me to realize that this was no joke. Knowing that much worse lied ahead, I was a bit worried and had to dig deep to find some resolve to keep on keepin’ on.

Soldiers marching as we made our way towards the volcano (masked in the clouds)

The beginning of the trek took us uphill through the volcano’s forest for a good 2-3 hours before reaching the tree line and stopping for lunch. Always one to pride myself on packing light, I took down some snack foods (granola bar, peanuts, juice box) and mooched off my well-prepared friend who was the star of the lunch hour for having brought a jar of peanut butter.

Roughly another hour upwards after lunch and we made it to a small cabin along the trail that marked the beginning of the end for me.  Here we took a small break and you could begin to see where the volcano finally reached its end, although what looked to not be so far, was in reality a steep 2-3 hour climb to the first crater and easily the hardest leg of the hike. With constant reminders to not quit on myself, I hiked on through the fog (at this point we were level with the clouds) despite constant blows to my determination. Never having climbed the volcano before, it was impossible to know just how much further we had to go, which became very taxing mentally.

Making our way towards the top through the clouds

Looking up into more clouds and thinking that I'd finally be done after this last hour push up the volcano side, proved to be a tease at least 3 different times during my homestretch. Another hard push up the trail would reveal a new view of the top and with it another long stretch of trail, sitting up high and taunting me down below. Foolish for believing the accompany soldiers who would remind me “ya casi” (“we’re almost there”), I began to question why anyone would subject themselves to this. However, not one to let up I continued on and was 2^nd to reach the top behind a young spry soldier who led the way.

View of the final stretch to the top and steep incline

At the top we were greeted with winds and magnificent views of the clouds all around us. Having forgotten that the volcano has 2 peaks, I was surprised to see more volcano ahead of me when reaching what I had thought was the top. Relieved to have reached out final point for the day, I was a bit unsettled knowing that we would soon have to tackle another tough climb.

View of Pico Mayor (main peak) from Yepocapa (lower peak) 

We set up camp for the night and I was surprised by how windy and cold it was (as my Canadian friend put it in regards to the cold, “Is this Canada?”). Unfortunately, more surprising than the cold were the tents we were to use for the night. I failed to snap some photos, but we were using old-school canvas, army tents lent to us by the soldiers who accompanied us, which I can only assume have been in use since 1910.

My friend and I balled up in our respective sleeping bags wearing as much clothing as possible for our 8 PM bed time and braved what can only be described as the worst, most uncomfortable sleep of our lives. If it wasn’t the unforgiving lava ash underneath us, or the unbearable cold, or the pair of friends snoring all night in the tent next to us, it was the worst headache I’ve ever experienced in my life due to the change in altitude that would not allow me to fall asleep.

Saved by some ibuprofen brought along in our first-aid kit, I managed to get a little shut-eye, but vowed I would not join the others for their 5 AM wake up call to climb the highest peak of the volcano that loomed over us. However, as everyone started shaking a leg at 5 AM with the glow of flashlights that reminded me of lightsabers, I realized I would not be able to live with myself for being that guy who sat this one out and got so close to the top, but didn’t finish the hike. Under the starlit sky we descended from our crater and made our way over to the main peak for an early morning climb.

Sunrise view from the top of Acatenango

The experience gained from the previous day made this climb a bit more manageable mentally, but nonetheless was exhausting. The final stretch leading to the top was a narrow trail of ash that not only dangerously hugged the rim of an old, blown-out crater, but was loose and slippery making each step potentially deathly as well as minimal towards reaching the top. Despite not having to carry heavy packs during this jaunt, the incline was demanding and nearly broke me. I’ve named it the Trail of Tears as it literally brought our 12 year old group member to tears as he pushed on with the support of the rest of us. At this moment I took a second to reflect on what I was doing at his age back in June of 1996 and realized he was a lot more of a man than me compared to my days of sitting in my air conditioned house watching Saved By The Bell reruns and eating ice cream.

Screech

Despite the hellish climb, we made it to the top and were rewarded with the most impressive views and sunrise that I have ever seen. The soothing scenery that engulfed me at what felt like the top of all of Guatemala made the exhausting trip worth it. After conquering the highest peak of Atacanango, down was the only direction to go and so we packed up and descended the volcano.

View from Pico Mayor (our campsite in the lower left corner, Low Peak)

Volcan Fuego next door erupting

Although faster than climbing up (took us nearly half the amount of time), the descent is a workout just as intense, if not more than the way up. Having to painstakingly take each step with caution (lest ye slip & slide down the steep inclines) wears on the feet and thighs. Equally as painful is the mental concentration needed with each step. However, the excitement of making your way off the volcano and back home to the comfort of your bed helps make the descent that much easier.