Una Salida del Sol, Una Sonrisa

This weekend I climbed Volcan Tajumulco. At about 14,000 feet, it's the highest point in Central America. I went with Quetzaltrekkers, a non-profit guide company which supports local social services. My group left Xela at 4am, to catch camioneta to San Marcos, and then to the trailhead.

Apparently the department of San Marcos is known for its drug trade. Farmers here have had a hard time growing enough to eat and sell, with the harsh climate, small plots and effects of the civil war. San Marcos is only an hour off of the Mexican border, so it's understandable that many people have switched to marijuana and opiate production. As such, it's illegal to grow poppies, even for ornamental purposes.

At the trailhead we were greeted by a platoon of soldiers and a low-circling helicopter. The same soldiers who ravaged the area during the civil war sill use the San Marcos countryside as a training ground. Their official purpose is to discourage the drug trade. In reality they just intimidate the local population, as well as gringo hikers. As we climbed, our guides were careful to keep us in line, because there are still hundreds landmines left in the hills.

We hiked through the countryside for about an hour. As we climbed higher, the farms began to thin out, as the land became more and more marginal. Beans gave way to corn, which gave way to potatoes, until eventually there were only cattle and sheep. Only the most desperate families are left high on the hillsides to eke out an existence. The children would come running out, barefoot and with distended bellies, to beg for food or money, trying to steal things off of our packs.

Despite the poverty, the mountains are beautiful. They are meadows of turf and wildflowers, strewn with boulders and small stands of pine. The subalpine environment here is surprisingly similar to that of Seattle. It was even more beautiful because we could hear strains of marimba and singing in Mam on the hike up. The music was from a festival in the pueblo at the foot of the mountain, but I felt like it was accompanying and encouraging us up the hill.

The Tajulmulco trail was more gradual than Laguna Chicabal, but it was still substantial. About halfway up the hike an older couple from Los Angeles decided to turn back with one of our guides. We hiked for about six hours, reaching base camp around 4pm, just as the clouds rolled in and began to rain. We quickly made camp, had some supper, and went to bed.

We got up again at 3am for our final approach. The temperature supposedly hovered around 0 degrees celsius, and the wind chill was something ferocious. While we were still in camp, one of our group members fell ill with altitude sickness, so she, I, and one of the guides stayed behind. The rest of the group donned headlamps and stumbled and scrambled the last 800 vertical feet to the summit.

Even from base camp it was well worth it to see the sun rise over all of Guatemala and into Mexico and Volcan Santiaguito erupting in the distance. I have no words to express the sense of awe at the natural world that it left me with. Absolutely amazing.