From Antigua, you can find the way South by merely noting your relative location to Volcan de Agua, whose towering symmetry dominates the surrounding landscape as a stark, conical shadow above the cities that surround it on nearly all sides. It's rainy season now, and the clouds swirling at midday curtain the mountain almost entirely from view. Nevertheless, I find my way home daily with Agua's direction, and as I watch the clouds dissolve for a moment I wish that the mountain hadn't claimed such a reputation as a hotbed for bandits, elsewise I'd be climbing it instead of the others.
A small note on climbing active volcanoes: It's like climbing regular mountains, only they're exploding.
The nearby peaks of Volcan Acatenango to the Southwest of Antigua are less visible in the lateness of the day, but I know that despite the weather some group has gone up, and that high above the clouds, someone is capturing an ocean of white beneath them in a moment of euphoria. I've seen the weather change so abruptly from the heights of Acatenango that I’ve begun to think of it as four different mountains with four separate voices. Acatenango is the third most-high point in Central America, being closely surpassed by the peaks of Tajumulco and Tacaná towards the Northwest Mexican border. Not unlike Agua, hiking Tajumulco currently is ill-advised for gringos, this time due to political unrest in the nearby community of San Marcos. True to custom for Guatemala, I have heard more than a handful of variants of this warning, all exhibiting different levels of skeptecism.
Down here, it’s all about relative danger.
The trek up Acatenango itself boasts a visual spectacle when Volcan de Fuego, it’s fiery neighbor, erupts. Spewing ash and fire into the air on a daily basis, Fuego can be viewed safely from vista campsites on the slopes of Acatenango just under 2km away. However, the views come at a cost: at 3,976m/13,045ft, the summit of Acatenango may only be reached by those willing to brave the grueling ascent from La Soledad (our trailhead) and the 2400m/7,800ft of elevation change from the streets of Antigua far below. Carving its way through pastoral farmlands, the trail climbs high above fields of coffee and corn to wind its way through lush, cloud forest, rich with greenery, ethereal mists and ancient sprawling roots. Switchbacks and ferns give way to high subalpine forest as the trail wraps around Acatenango’s East face, towards camp and facing Fuego. Above the treeline, twin summits puncture through the clouds, loose with volcanic gravel from past eruptions and windblown from countless years of exposure to the elements.
A deep saddle between the two mountains contains the Fuego trail, characteristically cloudy and easily lost. We lead bolder hikers from the wooded valley below our vista camp to the exposed Knife Ridge, a serpentine pathway leading precariously toward Fuego’s fiery crater. How close you are led is ultimately determined by your bribery skills, as local guides, often tempered with cheap rum, will accept payment at almost any risk.
Though the park is technically open to the public, it is still privately maintained. Locals highly recommend the employ of a guide to organize your trip. This may also serve as a unique international experience, as hundreds of backpackers from all corners of the world attempt the summit together each month with a variety of Antigua-based tours. The trails themselves are well-maintained, but potentially dangerous conditions at high altitude remain an ever-present concern for even the most weathered outdoor folk. Mere months before my arrival, the bodies of six hikers were found at the summit, the grim work of a fast-moving storm and the resulting hypothermia. Atop Acatenango’s Mars-like crater, an emergency shelter has since ben erected.
A year almost to the date of my final tour up Acatenango, Fuego erupted massively, killing over 200 individuals and destroying an already poverty-stricken community at the base of the volcanoes.
Comments