Ice axes and human bobsledding, anyone?

I am not sure what I thought I would need my ice axe for. I honestly just do not think I thought through it all. Yet, somewhere in the process of being outfitted - the ice axe, the bright blue and orange windsuit, the heavy duty boots, the crampons, the "diaper" for extra butt protection - trying these things on for size should have clued me in. But they didnt. And it´s probably best as I know I most likely would have psyched myself out and not completed yesterday´s climb. And I definitely would not have slept soundly the night before. But sleep soundly I did, and at 6:30 yesterday morning, we were geared up and ready to climb Volcan Villarica, a dormant, yet smoking volcano overshadowing the small town of Pucon. Pucon sits at about 600 feet; the parking lot at 4600 feet; summit at 9300 feet. Do the math and you have just about 4700 feet to climb on volcanic ash and snow/ice in 4 and a half hours.

I am NOT one for heights. Especially when falling means faaaaaaaaaaaaaalling down down down on ice with no great means of stopping yourself. Sure, we had ice axes, but they never did actually teach us how to use the things until we saw one guy slip and fall down the mountain unable to stop himself as his axe had fallen out of his hand. He went down down down, and I FROZE from fear. I had already started to feel nervous before we even climbed to the first ridge. Nervous may even be an understatement. I was actually in tears as I started to realize the extent and intensity of the climb we were on. It was steep, icy, windy at times, and my fear of heights was starting to overpower me. I wanted to turn back. But dad reassured me I would be fine (although dad has gotten me into quite a few sketchy situations after "reassuring" me, so I cant say this left me feeling terribly confident) and Tim, one of the guys on the trip, offered to let me go in front of him suggesting being closer to the front was easier. I dont know that it was any easier, but as we hiked higher and higher, we talked about our mutual nervousness regarding the climb, and I tried my darndest to focus only on putting one foot in front of the other. I could not look down. It was all I could do to try to forget that there was anything below me. And then we hit one super sketchy pass just as we saw the guy slip and fall. My legs began to shake and I could not get myself to move any further. There was no defined foot hold, and my ice axe didnt feel like enough support. But the only thing scarying me more than slipping and falling down the mountain, was turning around and walking down. In fact, the higher we climbed, the more the concern about how we would actually get ourselves down overwhelmed me. So I decided that moving forward was the only option for the moment, and that I would have to leave the issue of getting down for later. So I took the next step, got myself to the top of the ridge and just about broke down as I admitted to the guides that I was SCARED. Very very scared. Meanwhile, I would like to note, that dad was behind me singing and having a grand old time. My how differently we experience such adventures!

The rest of the way up, dad was forced to take the lead as the guide found that his singing was holding us up. So as dad huffed and puffed his way at the front, I was moved to the back to walk just in front of German, the sweep guide, who encouraged me every time I slipped, or stopped frozen in fear and we slowly, step by step, marched our way to the top. I refused to look up or down and put all of my energy into focusing on the person´s steps in front of me. As we reached the top, the smell of sulfur from the volcano welcomed us, and I can honestly say I was so happy to smell such a nasty odor! I collapsed as I let the fear drain from my body and wanted to kiss German for helping me make it to the top. I could not have done it without him and will be forever grateful to him for all his support. This has to be one of the most physically and mentally challenging things I have ever done. And it certainly is one of my proudest accomplishments.

We had the opportunity to rest a bit, take photos (the view of the surrounding valley and mountains was incredible!), and eat before getting geared up in our reinforced "diaper" for extra butt protection as we made our way down. I had been told that the way down would involve a controlled human bobsled. What that meant to me before the trip is unclear. However, what it means after the trip is just that - a human bobsled. As in you - the human - are bobsledding (aka - sliding) down the side of this hulking 9300 foot volcano from summit to base at 4600 feet on your butt. And the "controlled" part of it? Your ice axe. Thats right, when you wanted to stop, you were to dig your ice axe into the mountain. I wasnt quite catching on. In fact, I was downright scared again. I got up the damn thing and now I would have to work through my fear again to get myself down. I didnt see any helicopters overhead offering to pick up those who were unable to get down due to fear, so I looked to German who kept smiling at me saying "You will be just fine" and "Its SO fun." Hmm...I wasnt so sure.

But Lord Almighty - how much freakin fun it was! I have never seen anything like what we did in my life, and Im positive nothing like that would fly in the States. Too many lawyers out there trying to make a quick penny to allow such fun to occur. Let me explain.....You sit on your butt in your reinforced diaper, you hold the tip of your ice axe in your right hand, the base in your left, and you let her rip. At this point the snow was soft enough, that once you picked up any real speed on the super steep parts, the snow and your backpack would slow you down as you reached more level parts of the mountain. But in order to calm my nerves, I was allowed to go behind the head guide who would stop in front my me anytime I got too much speed so that I could stop by simply ramming my body into him in the case that my ice axe failed me. I did this a few times and then caught on to the fact that, by golly, this is really one heck of a good time. Think of the most fun water slide youve ever been down and multiply that experience 100 times. This slide just kept going and going. As soon as you hit a slow patch, you got up, stumbled a few steps, found a new spot, and kept trucking your way down the mountain. At one point, I wrapped my legs around the guide and with our combined weight we were able to get up some serious speed and fly past other people - clearly, I got over my fear pretty quickly! So we yipped and hollered and yee hawed down, playing human bumper cars as we ran into each other on the paths and occasionally lost control and went rolling head first sprawled out on all fours. The group was all smiles and the sheer ecstasy on dad´s face was priceless (unfortuantely, I had a breif scare where I thought I lost my camera, so i have no photos:(). German kept laughing at me, saying "Now do you see what I meant when I said it would be worth it?!" Ok, ok, he was right... And what took us four and a half hours up, took just over 30 minutes to get down.

Poppa T and I celebrated with hamburgers, pizza, and a panqueque con chocolate with Nina and Jenny before passing out in our twin beds. What a day!