From the moment you arrive in La Paz, you realize you are in a special part of the world. Although the largest city in Bolivia, La Paz is not its capital, as the official capital is the “white city” of Sucre in the south.
On your first steps through its chaotic streets, you will quickly feel the effects of altitude. La Paz stands at 3,600 meters, an altitude that will literally take your breath away. Its various neighborhoods are impressively connected by cable cars, which quickly take you to the surrounding hills, such as the more impoverished district of El Alto. There, every Sunday, the largest (and cheapest) flea market I’ve ever seen takes place. It’s so big that on exiting the cable car station, you’ll see locals selling maps of the market as many visitors get lost in its winding streets.
I found myself in La Paz with three good friends I met earlier at Lake Titicaca. One of them, the Dutchman Ramco, told me about the Huayna Potosi mountain that lies a few kilometers away from the city. Earlier, he had met some travelers who described the experience of climbing up to the 6,088-meter summit as the hardest but most beautiful of their lives. It didn’t take much more words to convince me. A few weeks earlier, in Peru, a severe altitude sickness forced me to give up hiking just before reaching 4,700 meters. It was my chance to test myself on a new challenge.
Organizing the hike and what you’ll need for Huayna Potosi.
In the center of La Paz, there are most of the tourist offices that organize the climb to the Huayna Potosi peak. Obviously, you can only reach the summit by using special equipment for the cold and altitude, as well as being accompanied by an experienced guide.
Since we were in the center we visited the witch market, an unreal place where outdoor stalls sell dried llama embryos for sacrifices to mother nature (pachamama), and magic spells that promise to make anyone fall in love with you.
After this unprecedented sight, we headed to the Jiwaki tourist office, where all the travelers recommended us as the best for our upcoming climb. Indeed, in the end I was very satisfied, and would recommend the agency to anyone seeking to conquer the summit. At the office, they explained in detail the process of the three-day operation, showed us the equipment and explained what extras we would need.
You won’t have to worry about climbing equipment at all. You will have high quality mountaineering boots, the spikes that allow you to walk on ice, helmet, the special ice axe, gloves and windproof/isothermal pants and jacket at your disposal. However, you will need to bring some clothes to wear under the windbreakers, a sleeping bag with a -5 degree rating, a head torch and a backpack that will hold all the equipment. You can rent all of the above from the office for an additional cost. Also, an experienced local guide is provided for every two people on the expedition.
The best time for the climb is from May to November, which is during the dry season, when snowfall is not so heavy. The success rate for conquering the summit is much lower in the other months, and sometimes impossible due to weather conditions.
How much does it cost to climb Huayna Potosi?
The cost of the expedition depends on the season, the number of participants and your negotiating skills. Usually, the price will range from 120 – 160 euros for the three days of the operation. In addition to the aforementioned equipment and guide, the price includes all meals, water, accommodation and transfers on these days. The extremely affordable price makes Huayna Potosi one of the most accessible peaks in the world to climb over 6000 meters.
Don’t forget that in Bolivia, and in South America in general, there is room for bargaining on almost any product or service you want to acquire. At the tourist office, I saw first hand once again the cultural difference between two completely different countries, expressed in my own face and that of my friend Ramco. The always polite and low-key Dutchman. felt uncomfortable and was finally stunned when his Greek friend lowered the price by about 15%, after purposeful negotiations.
Day one of the Huayna Potosi climb: arriving at the first shelter and ice climbing training.
The first day started with a gathering at 08:00 am of all climbers at the headquarters. In total that day, a group of 10 people would depart, so we would be accompanied by 5 local guides (one for every two riders). At the office, we all tried on our equipment, uniforms and special boots and made sure we borrowed the right size.
The van set off for our destination with a brief stop at a local market to pick up some last minute supplies. The altitude essentials of coca leaves, raisins, chocolate and dried banana chips for energy. The relatively quick journey continued, arriving in about two hours at the first campsite, and the last place the car could take us.
We were already at an altitude of 4,700 meters, far from any sign of civilization, with giant peaks surrounding us. The shelter was simple but nice, with a large shared bedroom for the riders, and two toilets outside the main building. We all gathered in the dining room, and shared an excellent and filling lunch. We began to get to know each other and swap stories from the different countries we all came from.
After lunch, we donned some of our gear and set out on a short hike for about an hour to the nearby iceberg.
This was where the day’s training for walking and climbing on snow and ice would take place. The special heavy boots and the nails applied to the bottom made walking complicated and difficult. I still remember that in the early stages, it seemed impossible on the last day to walk for hours wearing these shoes. However, within a few hours, the feet and body started to get used to this new equipment and the movement became more natural.
Arriving at the iceberg, the training started with the experienced guides free climbing the highest part of the iceberg and demonstrating how to use the ice axe. There, they set up the ropes we would use to tie ourselves up while climbing. Many of the group had attempted ice climbing before, but for me it was a complete first. I felt the excitement and sweet apprehension that you only feel when you are about to walk an unfamiliar trail. The nervousness intensified watching most of the team members fail to reach the top. My turn came, I tied myself to the rope and held the two axes. I tried to mimic the instructors’ technique with quick, vertical hits on higher and higher sections of the iceberg. I will tell you one thing for sure, ice climbing is no walk in the park. At the top of about 30 meters I felt my forearms burning, but I had just discovered a new passion that I know will stay with me for the rest of my life. I was looking forward to the last day’s climb.
After a few hours, the training was over, and we moved before dark back to camp. As the cooks prepared dinner, all the travelers had the opportunity to share more stories of our turbulent lives. The stone, isolated shelter echoed with the laughter and voices of completely different people from all corners of the world, but with one thing in common: the will to live their lives to the fullest. Only between travelers could such a strong bond be formed in a matter of hours. You have to have a certain way of thinking to attempt to climb 6,088 meters. And that night, in our differences we recognized in each other a part of ourselves.
Day two of the Huayna Potosi climb: the last night at the second shelter.
The next morning, we woke up around eight o’clock and enjoyed breakfast, carefully cooked by the local cooks. Some of the group were already feeling dizzy and prone to vomiting due to the altitude. The guides helped them and provided them with the appropriate medication to combat the symptoms. Fortunately they soon felt better, and were able to continue the adventure. We then packed our backpacks and gear to begin the hike to the second and final shelter, at 5,200 meters. From this shelter, we would begin the last day of the summit conquest.
On the ascent, we met travelers on the narrow trail who were descending after the summit attempt the night before. To our questions about the experience, they all had the exact same answer: the most difficult and beautiful feat of my life, but I would never do it again. I thought they were exaggerating how hard it could be…
After about two hours of hiking, we arrived at the second shelter. The scenery was spectacular. A small stone building that looked more like a church was the only touch of color against an all-white background. Although it was midday, the cold at 5,200 meters was piercing, so we quickly gathered in the main hall for a hot tea.
The trek to the summit would start at 12.00pm, with the aim of reaching Huayna Potosi before 07.00am where the sun would melt the snow and make conditions more dangerous. For this reason, the last meal would be at 17.00 in the afternoon, and then we would try to sleep until midnight. The atmosphere at this second dinner was quite different. Plus, the challenge was very close, and many members of the team were visibly anxious. The friendly guides, with jokes and information, tried to lighten the heavy atmosphere. The food was once again excellent, and after getting our gear ready for the next day, we turned in at 6pm in the afternoon in the hope of enjoying a few hours of sleep.
For me it was impossible to close my eyes for even a minute. At first, at this terrible altitude, with the lack of oxygen I constantly felt my head heavy and my breathing faster. In addition, the excitement of the upcoming adventure did not allow my thoughts to settle and calm down. I counted every minute until the alarm clock went off in the middle of the night. At some point I had to visit the toilet located a few meters outside the shelter. I put on as many warm clothes as I could find without disturbing those who managed to fall asleep and opened the heavy wooden door. The sight I saw would be etched in my mind forever. In the utter blackness of the night I was dazzled by the white echo of the snowy peaks that surrounded me. Within a radius of tens of kilometers, there was not a single candle’s light. I turned my gaze to the sky. It was the first time I had ever seen the colors and swirls of the galaxy so clearly. The stars looked like Christmas lights that someone had deftly placed in the perfect place for each. One of them began to fall into the evening sky until it quickly disappeared and became one with the vast blackness. It wasn’t hard to pick a wish, all that was in my mind anyway was the top. It all seemed like a lie, a fantasy movie, but it was reality. A few minutes passed until a guide came out of the building to go to the bathroom, and was startled to find me staring up at the sky in the freezing night. “Don’t you like sleeping? In two hours we start for the summit…” he said, bringing me back to reality.
Day three of the Huayna Potosi climb: conquering the summit.
The big moment arrived, and at midnight, the whole team and guides woke up and started to prepare the packs and put on the equipment. Then we learned that the weather conditions were starting to be unexpectedly bad, and we should expect a lot of snow. Perhaps the bad weather would force us to turn back halfway up the trail.
The group headed out into the freezing night. The isothermal clothing did its job very well and protected us completely from the extreme temperature of -5 degrees. The flashlight on our helmet illuminated the road ahead, and the coca leaves were our only weapon against the altitude sickness that would only get worse and worse. For the first 40 minutes or so the whole group walked together on a stone path that was covered with only a little soft snow.
Soon we reached the part of the route where the ice started, so we put on the special nails on the bottom of the non-slip boot and got divided into the predetermined groups of three people. The three of us, tied together with rope in a row so that if one of us fell, the other two could hold him before he went over the cliff. So the cheerful guide would go in the front, me in the middle and my friend Ramco at the end.
As time went on, the snow became thicker and thicker and the oxygen thinner and thinner, making each step harder. Every half hour or so we would take a two-minute break to catch our breath and eat some chocolate and raisins for energy. Longer breaks were impossible when you’re up against cold and muscle fatigue. Our group was now well ahead of the others, carving their way up the mountainside. The first hour for me went at a good pace, carried away by the excitement and the unique scenery. By the second hour, however, I started to feel the fatigue of heavy equipment and insomnia. My mind was flooded with thoughts that it was impossible to continue for the many remaining hours. Would it be better to give up before the fatigue became unbearable, was I not competent and ready enough for such a big challenge? I bowed my head and tried to think of something else, focusing on each slow step that sank the heavy boot into the thick snow.
Then, we arrived at the iceberg where we would have to do the ice axe climbing we trained for on the first day. The guide surged forward and every meter or so began placing the pegs that we would then thread our rope through. Behind him we followed, climbing slowly and steadily up the almost vertical slope. The time was 03:00 in the morning, and the adrenaline was pumping. In your hands you held your whole body, and a wrong move would mean serious danger for you and the team that was tied to you. In about 15 minutes, we were at the tip of the iceberg. All fatigue and any doubt about my abilities had disappeared. I felt the summit was closer than ever before. I felt pride and confidence in myself and my team. I kept the euphoria well hidden inside and continued the climb.
The hours ticked by and our team of three slowly “ate up” the miles to the summit. After a few hours we were amazed to see the view from the lights at La Paz stretching down and away.
In my mouth, I will never forget the unpleasant taste left by the coca leaves and chocolate. The head felt heavy and the oxygen almost non-existent. The footsteps we left behind were quickly covered by new snow. “We’re almost at 6,000 meters, 100 meters of climbing left” the guide shouted to give us strength. He radioed the other guides to see how the other groups following were doing. He informed us that only one other group had a chance of reaching the summit while the other six members were either far behind or had serious altitude problems.
The last 100 meters were straight out of a movie. All around were forests of stalagmites that left you with almost zero passage to pass by putting one foot in front of the other. The incline was steep and you had to use all the strength left in your arms and legs to move each step. Behind me I could hear the heavy breathing and the voice of Ramco who was beginning to have a persistent headache. The sun began to come out, and we stopped for a few minutes at the edge of the cliff to watch the unique sunrise. The sky turned red and we, like three newborn birds afraid to emerge from their towering nest, gazed at the uniqueness of the landscape and tried to realize where we were.
The voice of the guide turned us back and urged us to continue the last few meters.
By now we could see the top. It seemed so close, yet so far away, but now nothing could stop us.
We took the last heavy steps, and the three of us reached the highest point of the imposing Huayna Potosi mountain. We hugged each other and started laughing and shouting loudly. Immense happiness engulfed every part of my body. I sat on a rock at the top and looked at the view. On one side, the snow on the steep slope ended in a vast sea of clouds. At its edge, a bright red sun that looked more like the ones in the paintings. And on the other side, far below, as if in another world, green plains, rivers and in the distance Lake Titicaca. Without meaning to, the thought of how truly rich I am popped into my head. No matter how much money you have, this feeling, this accomplishment, you can’t buy it, you can only earn it with your sweat. Tears came to my eyes that I couldn’t hold back no matter how hard I tried. The same tears have come again at some unique moments in my life, and I cannot hold them. The driver pulled out his cell phone and started taking video of me, threatening to send it to my girlfriend. We laughed, the three of us hugged one last time, and moved on our way back.
With no summit objective waiting for us, the road to the shelter seemed endless. Fatigue and insomnia hit full force, and the pressure from the altitude was quickly chasing us away from 6,000 meters. By now I was on autopilot, I couldn’t control my legs and my only thought was the bed in the shelter. The hours passed hard, and we reached the iceberg we had previously climbed. This time we had to rapel down the steep slope. I bounded to the top with the rope, and using only my feet I reached the roots of the iceberg in a few minutes.
A few more hours of hiking and I finally saw the coveted shelter. Our friends were waiting with smiles and congratulated us on our success. Unable to keep my eyes open, I headed to my bed, and wearing all my gear, I fell into a deep sleep. Twenty minutes later, the guide woke me up as we had to get down to the first shelter, where the van would be waiting for us on the way back.
Final thoughts on Huayna Potosi.
The next two days would be spent in La Paz to rest and recuperate. After a much-needed nap, I found myself with Ramco on the hostel roof terrace and we talked about the whole experience. There we began to realize the uniqueness of the climb. We heard from many, as you are hearing from me, what to expect from these three days. No matter what you hear, however, travels, and especially moments like the one on the Huayna Potosi climb, only become meaningful when you experience them. They are the kind of experiences that push you to your limits, but make you a little bigger, a little stronger mentally. It took me a long time to realize that this is what I want from my travels and this is the meaning of my life. “Reach wherever you can” is the Kazantzakis quote that I always keep in mind. And finally I, you and anyone who really wants to can reach above the clouds, to 6,088 meters.
