Volcan Atitlan

Volcan Atitlan

There are experiences in life that change the way you perceive the world; climbing Volcan Atitlan and our subsequent first descent from the summit was one of those life-altering adventures. Christian Behrenz eloquently described the impact of the journey. "For the past eight years I have woken up every morning looking at that volcano; now every day I look and think: I've been there." It was an incredible 30 hours shared with a small group of friends. Since our return, I've observed each one of us gazing across the lake at the highest point on the skyline and noticed the way we look to the volcano with a new kind of intimate respect and awe.

embarcadero

Volcan Atitlan 11,598 feet (3535 meters) is not climbed frequently because of the challenging logistics and the long and strenuous climb. Nearby Volcan San Pedro receives most of the tourist travel as it is an easier ascent and its close proximity to the lake and town make for easier access. We had talked about trying to hike and fly San Pedro, but it is apparently thickly vegetated all the way to the summit and we wanted to fly off the tallest volcano in the area anyway. :)

Some plans just come together without much effort. Although we had thrown around the idea of flying from the volcano since we first arrived in Panajachel, we did not have the logistics completely worked out until the last minute. When the weather window we had been waiting on appeared in the forecast, everything started to happen very fast. We made contact with Humberto, a guide Christian knows that has climbed Atitlan many times before, and let him know our plans. It was Monday, March 24. We wanted to leave Wednesday morning, summit Wednesday afternoon, camp on top, and fly down Thursday at sunrise. Humberto would need to organize porters to carry our gliders to the summit and a lancha to take us across the lake to San Lucas Toliman, as well as trucks to drive us to the trailhead. Although it was very late notice, he said he would try his best. He wouldn't be able to join but knew another good guide that could. We had one day to prepare.

our chariot

Mani

There was a big crew of pilots flying in Pana at the time, and lots of interest in the mission. We weren’t sure who was 100% in until Wednesday morning came. When we met at the office at 6:30 AM we were a group of nine: Christian from Guatemala, Leo from Argentina, Tommy and Jorge from Venezuela, Mike and Mani from Austria (Mike hoping to fly tandem with Haiyan from China), and the two of us made up team USA. It was turning into quite the international expedition. Our first stop was the boat dock to meet our guide, Thomas, and catch our hired lancha to San Lucas.

Mike and Haiyan

Thomas

feet

Jorge and Christian

Puerto de San Lucas

bye bye boat

tuk tuk

San Lucas Toliman

It was a calm ride across Lake Atitlan with a crystal clear view of the volcanoes and our goal 11 miles (18 kilometers) away and 6500 feet (2000 meters) above. We were on the way. We pulled in to San Lucas to find 8 porters and one of their sons waiting for us at the dock. Most of the men had never been to the summit before. We had a short walk to the town center and wanted to check out our landing options before heading up the hill. The dirt futbol field in the middle of town seemed to be our best bet. We investigated and agreed: it was tight but doable. We had a breakfast in town and grabbed a few last minute supplies: plastic tarps to sleep on, batteries for instruments and headlamps, Cup-a-Noodles, and the always-important TP. Christian also needed a day bag for the climb. He found a Toy Story backpack in a small shop near the square. The right gear is important for an expedition of this magnitude.

porteros

first look at the LZ

It was a short ride to the base of the volcano in a 4wd truck. We set out on the trail at 10 AM. The hike started easy. We meandered into a solid rock river bed under thick vegetation. We were a big crew: 19 people in total. Gazing up the trail, we looked like a line of ants marching its way up the mountain. Before long we began to hear the first of many rumbles that would follow us up to the summit and continue through the night. At first we thought it was just a jet flying by, but the rumbles didn’t last long and we couldn’t see contrails anywhere in the sky. When the next one hit we looked at each other and asked if someone heard thunder, but the sky was much too blue. It was an eerie feeling but we pushed on still not quite sure of the origin of this deep rumbling vibration.

en route to the trailhead

We weaved in and out of coffee, avocado, and corn farms for the first couple hours and passed by many men walking massive loads of firewood down the hill on their backs. We were headed for the saddle between Volcan Tolimàn and Volcan Atitlan that marks the midway point of the climb. The vegetation gets progressively thicker as the trail gets steeper. A little after noon, we arrived at the saddle. What looks like a tiny pass from the valley is actually a massive flat planted ridge. The fields were well maintained and there were a few workers tending the crops. It was incredible to realize that everything that was grown here must be carried on foot back down the long trail to town after harvest.

view from the saddle

From the saddle upward there are no more farms. Immediately the trail turns steeply up and only gets steeper. The vegetation is abundant, similar to the cloud forests in Costa Rica. The trees are massive and carpeted in moss with long vines hanging to the ground (Christian even swung out like Tarzan on one over a 30 foot (10 meter) drop!) Everything is a rich green even though hardly any light makes it to the forest floor. The shade was a welcome treat after hiking through the morning in the strengthening sun.

Jorge of the jungle

After a couple more hours hiking the trees started to get smaller and the sun was beginning to shine through again. We all started feeling short of breath and realized we were already above 10,000 feet (3000 meters). After months traveling near sea level it was nice to feel the high altitude burn in my lungs once again. Eventually the last tree gave way to only volcanic rocks. It was an exposed and very windy scramble for the last 1000 feet (300 meters) of the climb. We stopped to rest at a steam vent and realized the ground was warm to the touch. Nature’s heater. It was there that I first realized that the rumbles could very well be coming from under our feet. Yikes! We later learned that Atitlan is technically an active volcano, though it hasn't erupted since 1853. We also learned that Volcan de Fuego, another active Volcano near Antigua, was experiencing abnormally high levels of activity during the week. According to the National Institute of Seismology and Vulcanology, it was experiencing 8-14 eruptions per hour on March 25, the day we climbed Atitlan. Rumble rumble.

taking a break

approaching the summit

made it!

We summited above a sea of building clouds a little after 3 PM. We were elated to be on top of the world in the sun and wind. Mani was quick to break out the Austrian schnapps and congratulate everyone with a hearty "Berg Heil!" a summit tradition from home. We took lots of photos (there were at least 6 camera poles operating at once) and ran around the summit ridge to catch the 360 degree views. The porters were just as joyful as we were, taking photos of each other and celebrating their ascent. They only lingered for a few minutes on the summit. We settled up and observed as they stepped aside and divided the money according to the weight they each carried up. The guy who got stuck with the tandem bag definitely earned his extra Quetzales. He carried about 55 pounds (25 kilos) for 5 hours hanging from a strap on his forehead!) We expressed our gratitude for bearing the burden of our heavy gear and bid them farewell as they started their long walk down. Standing there in over 30 mph (50kph) of wind we were stuck on top of the tallest object around with our gear, fly or no fly. Committed!

Berg Heil!

I'm on top of the world 

bye bye porteros

blissed out

stretchy Haiyan

The clouds continued to build quickly and we made the best of our last moments of clarity before we were engulfed in white fog. We took a few group photos and had a fun yoga session on top of the small concrete structure at the summit. When the sun disappeared the wind became bitingly cold very quickly. Christian found a nice hangout a few steps down the lee side of the crater next to a big steam vent. The ground was warm and it was out of the wind. We hung out in the warmth and got a few clear windows in which we could see through the cauliflower cloud corridors to the valley far below. We were hoping to watch the sunset, but the cloud became thicker and thicker and soon the light began to fade into darkness. Thomas made coffee and heated plenty of water for instant soup as we huddled around the top shack and snacked on a random assortment of goodies. Food has never tasted so good as it does sitting inside a cloud on top of a volcano.

The crew

searching for a warm spot

a monkey stole my camera

aguacate snacks

anyone know which way is north?

As night fell the now-familiar rumbles started to sound more and more like thunder, and before long our foggy surroundings began to intermittently brighten with the flash of lightning. It is more than a little unnerving knowing you are sitting on top of the tallest point for miles around, with no shelter other than a tiny concrete box. Especially coming from a place like Jackson Hole, where lightning poses a huge risk in the mountains. We huddled close in the wind shadow of the shack and for a few hours we were counting the seconds between the flashes and the rumbles. We comforted ourselves by pointing out that the big clouds were mostly below us and making jokes about assembling a people lasagna inside the shack if necessary. We only felt rain drops once, and the lightning remained just at the edge of our comfort zone.  

smells like avocado

head in the clouds

Thomas keeping us warm

After a couple hours huddling in the foggy cold, we decided to set up camp just below the rim of the crater in a nice flat spot. It was on the lee side and mostly out of the strong wind. The walk across the top of the cone in the daylight only takes a few minutes, but under darkness with heavy fog and gale force wind, it became a little more complicated to find our way. Our headlamps were rendered useless; they actually made it harder to see. We carefully navigated around the steam vents and over the rough volcanic rocks. The lightning suddenly became more frequent and the thunder much closer behind. We were seeing flashes every 10 to 20 seconds. It was like a slow strobe light in a dark room. The lightning would illuminate the scene for one frame and you could see people spread out over the cap of the volcano, then darkness once more. It seemed to take ages of calling out "Marco! Polo!" through the fog and flashes but we eventually made it across the high ground to the relative safety a few meters below the edge of the crater. We unpacked our sleeping bags and pads, rolled ourselves up in a few gliders for extra warmth, and settled in for the night as the lightning became a bit less frequent.

None of us were able to get much sleep. Between the rumblings of thunder or volcano, and the wind blowing the wings around on top of us it was a restless but joyful night. Around midnight, the clouds started to break and we began to see short flashes of the starry heavens above and the city lights of surrounding towns far below. In one moment of clarity, very late into the night, when I was sure everyone but us was sleeping, Becca and I saw an enormous shooting star blast across the sky. As it broke into shiny pieces, Jorge broke the silence: “Did you see that shit!?”

sleepy spot

Leo at sunrise

As dawn started to interrupt the foggy night, we left the warmth of our sleeping bags and the now dripping wet gliders to check the conditions. Tommy and I arrived at the only launchable face of the summit to find the wind coming straight in at a brisk 30 mph (50 kph). The visibility was poor. We sat and stared into the fog and got the occasional glimpse all the way to the landing in San Lucas. The tension was high knowing if something didn't change we would have to carry all our gear down the mountain. We retreated into the wind shadow of camp to gather our things.

volcano shadow

glory + Cade

toy story climbing pack

As we got everything packed up, the fog started to clear and the wind was backing down. The beauty of the sun glowing pink and orange as it rose through broken clouds, illuminating the scene of the neighboring volcanoes,the lake, and surrounding towns was incredible. It was one of those moments you just want to shout for joy because you can’t stand to hold it all in.

let's go fly

three camera poles are better than one

As we all gathered on launch, we were rewarded with perfect wind. Our timing could not have been better. The volcanic rocks were very prone to line snags and would have made it near impossible to launch with no wind. On the other hand, it would have been a bit scary and committing with too much wind. We were on the only launchable face on the cone, with barely enough space for two gliders to lay out, and the wind was just right.

Mani was the first to launch on the Firebird F-18. He kited a bit on top before stepping off into the morning air. Becca wasn't far behind and on her Delta she was easily soaring! Everyone was scrambling to get into the air. Mike and Haiyan launched next on the tandem and one by one we all followed. We were able to soar the top part of the volcano for 15 or 20 minutes cheering back and forth, ecstatic that we were all in the air together.

cone soaring

traffic

tiny buddies

three little birds

lake view

getting close

on glide

head on

between a rock and a hard place

east face 

double shadow

tiny huge hill

towards the sea

Christian over San Lucas

It was a 15 minute glide out to San Lucas and looking down at the smoke in town as we approached we could tell there was no wind. Mani used most of the futbol field corner to corner, swooping in to touch down. The kids at the adjacent schoolyard were alerted! Jorge and I were only a few short minutes behind, but by the time I got there the field was packed with excited children. Mani was doing a good job of crowd control and it gave us just enough room for a good landing. Mike and Haiyan were next and now it seemed as though the whole town was pouring into the cancha. Mike perfectly navigated his tandem into the small field utilizing every inch of usable space. He barely cleared the power lines in one corner and parted the sea of children, cruising all the way to the opposite corner before touching down just short of the bleachers and draping his wing over the awning. Whew! Nicely done. Christian had an epic swoop straight into the tiny arms of his adoring fans. Just wait 'til you see the video! The north wind started to blow as Tommy and Becca were approaching. It was a good thing because they both had to land amongst the hoards of children despite all our efforts at clearing some space. Leo couldn't quite make the glide in the north wind, so he headed for the bailout we had chosen along the highway just outside of town.

Mike and Haiyan nailing it

surrounded

It was all hugs and smiles as we marveled at our accomplishment and good fortune. The school even let us use their courtyard to fold up the gliders. By the time we were packed, the north wind had really picked up. It would have made the landing much more challenging. Perfect timing again! A very friendly local offered to drive us back to the boat docks, where we found a lancha to take us back to Pana. Our new friend with the truck wouldn't even let us pay for gas. The boat ride back to Panajachel was calm and quick. We were whisked back to the comfort of our temporary home, where Stefanie met us at the boat dock and joined us for a huge breakfast at one of our favorite local restaurants. It was almost hard to believe we had been on top of the Volcano just an hour or two before.

bye bye Atitlan

the disorganizer

In the days since our flight I can’t stop staring back at the pinnacle on the horizon, knowing I have been there and looked over the other side. Climbing Volcan Atitlan somehow changed my sense of place. It increased my understanding of where I am. The lake that appears so huge from our everyday launch now just seems like a tiny puddle perched on a massive ridge line spanning Central America. We have inquired whether anyone has flown from Volcan Atitlan before. Most of the locals believe our flight was the first, although there are vague rumors of some Frenchies attempting it long ago. We are definitely the first Guatemalan/ Venezuelan/ Argentinian/ Austrian/ Chinese/ American team. Nine people from six countries came together and the timing of the weather happened so perfectly it was simply meant to be. Thank you friends for such an incredible experience. It will not be soon forgotten. Until next time....  

Mike and Haiyan leading the way to San Lucas