By Christopher Hargett

Nestled on the Pacific side of South America, Ecuador is quickly becoming an adventure travelers mecca. Most people head to Ecuador to visit the famous Galapagos Islands, but I was headed to climb. Within a day's drive of Quito, the capital, one can reach all the major peaks of Ecuador. Most climbers go to Ecuador with hopes of ascending their first 20,000-foot peak, Chimborazo.

The night prior to leaving for the airport I received a call from my climbing partner saying we were going to have to cancel the trip because Ecuador was in the middle of a national riot. It seems that the president had raised gas prices, sending the country into turmoil. After months of preparation for the climbs and lightening my bank account by a considerable chunk of change, nothing was going to ruin my trip. So at the last minute I decided to go ahead and test my luck.

Upon landing in Quito the first thing I noticed was having difficulty breathing. At 9,000 feet, Quito is the second-highest capital in the world behind Lima, Peru. I met my climbing partners and hopped a taxi into Old Town. The streets of this city of 1.2 million were deserted secondary to the strike, giving a kind of apocalyptic feel. We arrived at Hotel de San Fransisco de Quito and hit the sack from a long day of travel. I had a difficult time sleeping that first night. I don't know if it was the altitude or nervous energy about the climbs to come.

The following day we arose to a beautiful spring like day in Quito. The hotel was in the middle of the historic district and had a central plaza with rooms situated all around. Previously, the hotel had been used as a nunnery and it beamed with character. The first day was set aside to acclimate to the altitude and get a feel for Old Town Quito. The first thing I noticed was the heavy police presence. In every street the police armed with automatic weapons lined the streets. There was a definite tension in the air concerning the strike. The churches, plazas, and government buildings of this world heritage site were beautiful. After visiting a local mountaineering shop to check conditions, we headed for a bank. I exchange US$200 for 2,250,000 sucres while my friends waited. I could have choked a horse with the wad of cash I took out of the bank. We now headed for lunch at one of the local cafes. The almurezo (lunch special) of the day was fish and rice. This was a preview of what I would eat for the next 3 weeks. The rest of the night was spent in preparation for a morning ascent of Rucu Pichincha.

The alarm rang early for our departure to the 15,616-foot peak of Rucu. After a light breakfast we met Jose the guide, and he dropped us off at the trail head. I immediately felt the altitude and hit a slow but steady pace up the mountain. We ascended through the Ecuadorian farmland following a large stream that seemed to never end. As we rose higher and higher, Quito spread out before us filling a vast valley. Along the way we passed farmers working their meager farms trying to make a living. Ecuador is a poor country with an average income of only a few hundred dollars.

Around noon we reached the end of the dirt road we had been climbing for hours only to find Jose waiting by the Jeep... thanks for the ride. We set out for the summit feeling strong and excited. As I climbed, my legs began to ache and doubt about my training regimen raged in my head. At 14,000 feet we hit a scree field where I felt as if I would take two steps forward and one step back. At 15,000 feet I would take a few steps and breath for a minute. After a last scramble up 500 feet of rock face, Quito looked like a miniature city. From our vantage point we could see our future climbs of Cotopaxi and Iliniza Norte.

After 45 minutes on the summit we began to descend. As we descended, the air became rich with oxygen, a pleasant feeling after being hypoxic for hours. I hit the halfway point before the others and fell asleep suffering mild effects of Acute Mountain Sickness. My delirious dreams were interrupted by a couple of cows licking my boot. After the initial scare, the cows moved on only to be replaced by a young bull about to charge my red backpack. The mountain sickness got worse and I eventually gave in and vomited all over Rucu Pichincha. After puking on my first Ecuadorian mountain I felt much better. We now caught a ride off the mountain with Jose. The sun was setting and Quito glowed. We had to maneuver around some burning tires and rioters on our way into Quito, but we safely arrived back at the hotel. I passed out early that night exhausted but exhilarated from the day's events.

The following day had been set aside as a day to acclimate and rest from the previous day's activities. We headed to Mitad Del Mundo, which means the "middle of the world." We stayed at the equator for a couple of hours and headed back to Quito. That night the riot was in full force. A group of indigenous people had been rumored to be conducting a large demonstration in Old Town that evening, and what should a responsible tourist do but hit the town with them. The police began shooting tear gas into the crowd just as the wind shifted, sending the tear gas right into my face. One has never traveled until one has been tear gassed in a South American country. After the gas cleared I returned to the hotel anticipating a long climb to the hut on Iliniza Norte in the morning. Just when I thought the excitement was over for the night the rioters wound up again, so here we go with the tear gas again. I slept that night with a wet cloth over my face.

I was glad to get out of Quito for the quiet of the country. We were on the Pan American Highway headed south. As we proceeded down the "Avenue of the Volcanoes," the city transformed into Ecuadorian farmland surrounded by the Andes Mountains. The farmland spread out like patchwork with a beautiful mountain backdrop. At the town of Machachi we left the paved road for El Chaupi. The road conditions quickly deteriorated into impassable eroded ditches. So you guessed it, off we went on foot. Our guide, Bladdimer, caught up with us on his motorcycle and joined us for the hike. We eventually rose into the clouds, leaving all flora behind. We entered an endless scree field that made my legs scream with pain. Just when I would think I could see the hut, my mirage would clear only to reveal another huge rock.

The temperature dropped to 30 degrees and the wind blew at 45 mph. Eventually we topped the scree field and continued on another half-mile to the hut. The hut was situated between Iliniza Norte and Iliniza Sur and contained only the basic essentials: bunk and roof. I was exhausted. We had hiked for 7 hours and had ascended a vertical mile. I barely had enough energy to spread my sleeping bag. At this altitude, I forced myself to eat a Power Bar and drink a quart of Gatorade before passing out. I would drift in and out of consciousness just thinking and trying to ignore the altitude headache pounding my temples. I was doing better than the rest of the crew, who had full-blown mountain sickness. I thought I was doing quite well for a flatlander from Alabama. The night was long but I was ready for the assault on the summit of Iliniza Norte.

The alarm rang at 4:30 a.m. with Bladdimer stirring around the hut. We departed well before sunrise after a hearty breakfast of a Clif Bar. Snow swirled around my head as all I could see was my headlight beam and the person in front of me. Our climb quickly turned into a 3-hour rock scramble. The clouds would momentarily break, revealing the Ecuadorian countryside below. I followed Bladdimer up rock faces I would not have dared in normal situations. However, Bladdimer was right, and two hours into the climb the clouds broke, showing us the awesome summit of Cotopaxi. We moved quickly and were at the summit in three hours. The wind howled furiously as if the mountain was telling us it was time to leave. On the summit stood a cross I thought was for a summit marker. It turned out to be a memorial to several climbers who had died climbing the same mountain we now stood on.

The weather began to deteriorate, and we decided to leave. After the summit climb, Bladdimer informed us the last 30 meters of the climb is known as the Death Face. Thankful to be alive, we descended to same scree field that we had ascended not 24 hours ago. We caught a bus back to Quito for less than a dollar. Exhausted and nasty from the last two days climbing, I took a 20-minute shower trying to get Iliniza Norte out of my head and off my body. We fueled up that night on, you guessed it fish and rice preparing for our next climb... Cotopaxi.

The next day was set aside for rest, so we went north to the indian town of Otovalo. It is known for its pottery, wool products, and other crafts. The indian women would weave intricate rugs right in front of my eyes. I felt bad only paying $10 for a huge area rug.

We prepared for our departure to the town of Lasso. In Lasso we hitchhiked to the 400-year-old estate of La Cienega. This hotel was once owned by one of the richest men in Ecuador. He once owned all the land from Quito to Ambato in southern Ecuador. The entrance to the estate is lined with eucalyptus trees leading to the front entrance. The estate and gardens are highly recommended and the restaurant has some of the best food in Ecuador.

I hit the sack nervous but excited about the upcoming climb of Cotopaxi. With my nervous stomach keeping me awake, the night rolled on forever. However, the time finally came to get up and on the way for the short climb to the hut on Cotopaxi. We departed around 1 p.m. in the back of a luv pickup to meet our guides. After a last meal of chicken soup we piled into the luv pickup and left for Cotopaxi National Forest. The wind was fierce as I began our 1,000-foot climb to the mountain hut. I leaned into the wind, lowered my head, and trudged up the mountain. At the hut Rohelio, our guide, prepared a chicken and rice dinner, which was wonderful considering the circumstances. Off to bed at 6 p.m. for a midnight climb isn't fun. Sleeping high bears no resemblance to sleeping at sea level. Headache and insomnia become your close friends.

At midnight the alarm rang and I crawled out of my warm sleeping bag and into the frigid air. I donned my gear and off we went into the blackness. The wind ripped into my skin despite several layers of goretex. The headlights of the climbers in front of us resembled Christmas lights ascending a tree. We reached the glacier an hour into the climb and roped up for protection. Following only my headlight and the back of my partner's boots, we struck out on a slow but steady pace. Slowly I began to freeze up. Over the span of an hour, I noticed my gloves turn white then my entire body was covered with a sheet of ice. This is known as the "white wind" of mountaineering.

We had been climbing for four hours when I asked Rohelio, "How much farther?" His response of three more hours drained what energy I had left. Every sense in your body tells you to turn around and get the hell off this mountain, but I kept climbing. The sun began to top the ridge at 5:30, and before me lay tons of ice. The dark was not necessarily a bad thing. Now I could see the 2,000-foot drop just 6 inches away. I peered into crevasses that seemed to have no bottom. My legs were cramping and I was frozen stiff, but we kept climbing.

We finally hit the summit ridge, and by this point all I could do was breathe. Step, step, step, was all I could think. One last step and we had made 19,348 feet. Frozen solid but loving life I stood atop the world's highest active volcano. After the obligatory high-fives and handshakes we snapped some summit photos. After 15 minutes on the summit we decided it was time to leave. That's the problem with mountaineering: It's not a complete trip until it's a round-trip. After stumbling down the mountain for two hours, I finally made it to the hut for some pain medicine and rest. Back at La Cienega, a hot shower and good food were just the ticket for a beaten soul.

The next day we went to Banos for some rest and relaxation. Banos is the gateway from the Andes into the Amazon, so it gets a lot of tourist traffic. In Banos I highly recommend Marie's Cafe. A French couple opened this cafe serving excellent beef and chicken dishes. It is an oasis in the middle of a desert, food-wise. After a couple of days exploring the jungles around Banos and enjoying hot baths for which it is famous, we left for Quito. After a celebration of well-deserved Pizza Hut, we hit the sack for the return to the U.S.

Overall, Ecuador gave me a new perspective and focus on life. I would recommend this trip for anyone. As an aside, two weeks after I summitted Rucu, it erupted. Once again, I tempted fate and won.