For the past few weeks now, Xela´s diesel-tinted air is all that our lungs have known in Guatemala. This past week we finally made our way well above this thick human cloud, breaking into altitudes none of us have ventured before.
The first hike began at three in the morning, last Thursday...the full moon. The peak of Santa Maria (a dormant volcano overlooking the city) was our destination. The hike itself was steep and fast. We quickly ascended our way up the enigmatic tangle of ¨trails¨ that defined the first third of the mountain. Mid-way up, the clouds drew closer, and the air became thick with fog and light rain. This jungle terrain proved to be the least comfortable: muddy, thick, and eerily quiet...except for the nearby cackeling from a pack of wild canines. We continued to ascend at a very quick pace.
Without realizing it, we had torn through the clouds, and suddenly found ourselves looking out upon one of the most dramatic and dizzying sights my eyes have ever been witness to: To the south there was nothing.... nothing but an ocean of thick, billowing, silver-blue cloud. Only a few distant peaks were mighty enough to penetrate into these terrestrial heavens. The moon´s sharp blue light illuminated the rest of our trek.
We made it to the top with perfect timing (although a herd of cows had somehow beaten us to the best spot). From this barren, frag scattered turret we could see the moon setting, reflecting its swollen orange figure across the Pacific ocean. The steady, rigid winds eventually forced us into a more protected nook just down from the peak. Here we waited in huddled groups for sunrise, fighting off the first stages of frost-bite with a small flask of ¨Old Friend¨ whiskey.
Our attention was distracted from the horizen when a plume of steam and ash was spotted just off the southern cliff-side. At the base of Santa Maria sat the most active volcano in all of Central America: Santiaugito. Its slopes were outlined in thick, white streams of steam. The promise of a heated seat was tempting, but fatally impossible.
Not soon enough, the holy light of the sun began to shatter our icy shackles. Slowly...deliberately, it painted our entire slice of the world with the most vivid warmth. That morning cannot be described with my words, and pictures hardly do it justice.
As we sat there staring into the east, a number of peaks became visible, silouhetted by the giant ball of fire behind them. But our next challenge sat behind us, warming its eastern face just as we were. Tajumulco, the highest peak in Central America, was beckoning....
