Last Great Unclimbed Mountains

A storm hits

Just time for a refuel in Copiapo, some tent and car-fixing, and we were off again.  We knew a storm was coming, so we went to the hut at Laguna Santa Rosa to sit it out.  The boys were laughing at the sorry lives of the flamingoes.  They stand all day in freezing water that’s full of minerals so totally undrinkable, dunking their heads in to suck we-aren’t-sure-what out of the water to eat.  To add insult to injury (and this appeared to be the last straw for the boys) they’re pink!  This appeared to be a dire situation.

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Caio and I went for a walk (of course) and we waited for the snow.

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The snow came, and we retreated into the hut for another day, grateful for a roof over our heads.  When we appeared the following morning, we looked out at the lake, and low and behold the flamingoes had bravely weathered the storm and were still out there on the lake, despite snow and absolutely freezing temperatures.  The boys decided they deserved respect, and maybe it wasn’t so bad to be pink…

Snow at low altitude in the PUNA is not a good thing, as any possible roads we could take were dips in the landscape (which collected snow) and any steep tracks were impassable.  We decided that we had to try to get back into the same mountain region as before, so we set off.  Visibility was a few metres at times, and we were skidding all over the road.  Below is the main road to Maricunga, the Chilean border post.

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Max and I got out of the cars at one point as we had to tow the Troller with Conway.  We were out of the car for just a few minutes, but we were blasted by wet snow as the wind was fierce, and by the time we got back in the car again we were soaking wet, and absolutely freezing.  Never let it be said that I have only been posting nice photos of myself…

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We just couldn’t get up the river and the steep hills to the mountains.  We tried, but Conway was skidding off the road, and the Troller wasn’t much better.  We had to use the winch several times.  The wind was strong, and it was extremely cold.  I got out my huge down jacket.  Sand and snow were scouring our faces as the gusts got stronger.


We had to turn back in the end, as there was no shelter for our tents, and we couldn’t afford to have them smashed by the wind again.  As we came down, conditions began to improve as the wind dropped.  Some of the snow on the lower passes melted and we ended up with quite a bit of mud.


We didn’t think that would be a problem, but it coated the radiators of the cars and made them overheat.  The Troller was still leaking anti-freeze, leaving a trail of green slime like a giant slug.  Conway had an overheated gear box radiator so we thought we’d try to tow Conway with the Troller.  The Troller instantly overheated.  We had two broken cars.  Again.

We limped to Maricunga, which made us uneasy as we had spent some time at both the Argentinian and Chilean border posts in the past, and things hadn’t always gone well.  It was late, and we slept there, however the following morning we were forbidden to leave!  This made us very unhappy…

Eventually they opened the road again, and allowed us to leave.  We limped back to Copiapo to do more repairs on the cars.

Spirits were still high though, and we managed an awesome jumping photo…

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Sierra Aliste

We were heading for a beautiful mountain called Sierra Aliste.  It’s a beautiful mountain, with a steeper snow-covered face, and a ridge.  We set up camp near the base and Max cooked amazing seafood pasta:

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We were so happy to be back in the mountains again!

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Caio’s on the far right, then anti-clockwise we have me, Max, Jiovani and Pedro.

Right, we set off the following morning for the mountain.  The winds were high, but we were climbing a protected face.  Sierra Aliste is 5200 metres.  I set off with Jiovani, Caio and Pedro to climb the ridge.

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I climbed independently of the others, and reached the top after 90 minutes!  It was sheltered up there, and I sat and watched Max climb the snow face below me.  He’s the black dot down there…


I sang along to my music loudly (because nobody could hear me) and enjoyed the beautiful views, curled up among the rocks on the sheltered side of the mountain.

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I got a bit carried away taking photos of the clouds that were floating by just above my head:

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and then the others arrived.  We took lots of photos on the summit.

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and then headed back down.  I had been at the top for nearly two hours by that point, so I was cold and headed down fast.  28 minutes later, I got back to the tent, and started doing the washing up.  A huge gust of wind came and hit the tents hard.  A minute later another gust came and this time I heard a huge snapping, ripping sound.  I abandoned the washing up and ran to look at the tent next to mine.  It was torn apart, with poles snapped, and with every gust it was getting worse.  I saw one pole snapped on our trango two (the best mountain tent in my opinion) and Pedro’s little one man tent was flapping furiously.  To make matters worse, our food boxes (some of which I can barely lift) had blown out of the tent porch, tipped over, and our supplies were rapidly disappearing into the distance.

Ok, now I had a choice.  I ran to the destroyed tent first, afraid it was going to tear and blow away along with Pedro and Jiovani’s belongings, and pulled out the poles, collapsing the tent, and bundled it into the car.  Pedro’s small tent followed shortly after, and then I managed to get all our food from the mountainside.  At that point, the others arrived and we managed to put all of our things into the two cars, although the gusts were incredible.  We were just about to leave….when Jiovani’s car wouldn’t start.  We checked it…and yep, even though he put 100% antifreeze into it, it must have been terrible quality, as the whole thing was frozen.

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With broken tents, and one car out of action, we had no choice but to use Conway to tow the other car.

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Of course we had a compulsory stop at the waterfall, which was incredible with the strong winds.

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On the way down, Caio decided it was warm enough to run around taking pictures in his underwear (maybe the altitude got to his head?)


We had an 8 hour drive back to Copiapo towing the other car.  On the way, a freak gust of wind scoured the car with sand and stones, and smashed poor Conway’s window!  He’s looking a bit sorry for himself, with smashed rear lights (thanks to the mine at Famatina), a broken boot (thanks to the wind), and now a broken rear window.


Shame we couldn’t get some more mountains in, but we’ll be back up there soon!  We’re hoping to leave tomorrow, even though the weather looks pretty terrible, with a storm coming in at the weekend.  Copiapo is at least surrounded by lovely hills, see below.  The boys came back last night and announced that they had brought me back some Chilean ‘fish and chips’  Better than anything I can get back home in the UK apparently…

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So despite freezing yet another car, the wind smashing our tents, and Conway’s window, and having to get out of the mountains towing our backup car, we’re still having a great adventure!  Sorry for the huge essay – more in a week or so!

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On the road….

The five of us (Pedro, Caio, Jiovani, Max and I) headed back up to the same area we had climbed in before.  We had seen some beautiful mountains, and spoke to a couple of local guys in Copiapo who said they were unclimbed.  We had searched on google earth and found some great possibilities for Incan ruins in the area.

We stopped at the waterfall on the way, and Max changed his shoes as his feet had totally cracked open.  He had earlier repaired them by slicing a section of skin off another part of his foot and super-gluing it over the crack, but (perhaps unsurprisingly) that had not proved to be a permanent solution…

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As he was changing his shoes, one of his beloved flipflops flew off in the wind, into the river.  Then began a race.  I ran down to the river downstream, while Max climbed down the gully to get to it.

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Success!  We rescued it (I got there first, but only just…) Now to climb out, and carry on our way.

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We had two cars, so we felt a little better.  We had shredded one tyre, so we didn’t even have a spare for Conway, which had made us nervous, given that we’d already sustained one puncture and the terrain was brutal.  We were grateful for the second vehicle as backup, and we had a great drive into the mountains.

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Laguna Santa Rosa

As several people have reminded me, I owe you all an update!  As you might have guessed, we’re back down in Copiapo, much earlier than we had hoped.  Here’s the story.

We met Caio, our professional photographer (and all-round awesome guy) and headed back to the mountains.  Our plan was to stay in a hut by a lake (Laguna Santa Rosa) for two days so he could acclimatise to 3800 metres, before pushing him higher.  It was cold while we were there, and so we went for a few walks.  Below are some of Caio’s photos during those days.  The place was beautiful, and his photos capture it perfectly.  The lake was full of flamingos, and the days were cold but clear.

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Caio and I went for lots of walks to take photos and enjoy stretching our legs.  I became ‘the hiker’ in his beautiful photographs.  The first one is the photographer himself, taken by me

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Caio and I walked around the entire lake one day, and were close back to the hut when we realised there was a stream we had to cross.

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There was no way we were retracing our steps…so we decided to jump.  I will try to upload the video somehow (it’s on facebook).  Suffice to say that both of us landed in the thick, black mud of the lake, with both feet.  It was hilarious – check out Caio’s little wobble, before he even jumps.  So funny!  (although my boots then froze and only defrosted several days later).

Max found loads of flint chippings, which, given that flint is not found locally, lead us to believe that Incas were making arrow heads in the vicinity.  This was later confirmed by some locals who came to the hut.

In honour of our visitors, we had a little party:

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We were waiting for a mechanic friend from Brazil to arrive with his car.  He got stuck at the Argentinian border as they closed the road (despite no real snow and only moderate winds) and were really making life hard for us.  We had to stay an extra day at the hut, and just as we were packed and ready to leave for the border….the car broke down.  The battery was flat.  I ran to find a nice German couple who had arrived to see the lake, and they lent us their car and some jump leads:

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and we were off.  We drove to the border, met up with Jiovani and his car, and headed to the mountains.

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More about the drive in the next post!

Thank you!

Hello!  I just wanted to say a huge thanks to everyone who sent messages to say good luck, and keep me going, especially when I was feeling rubbish, and when we were stuck in Chilecito for all those days.  I loved the photos with messages and the photo of the Bowline hanging off the cave in Loughborough!  I wasn’t sure if people would be happy with me re-posting the photos, but you know who you are.  I don’t deserve such a great group of friends all over the world, thank you so much xxx

We are heading back to the mountains for ten days now, to climb a bunch of mountains including one called ‘Dead Lion’, 5780 metres, which we think is unclimbed, and we’ve identified ruins nearby.

Just to show you our happy faces, here’s a tent photo – we had ‘film night’ at 4300 metres the other day.


Onwards and upwards

I’m going to condense the next three days into one post.  Suffice to say, we climbed four 5000+ metre mountains.  The first one, called Laguna Brava, was close to our camp (at 4100 metres) and was 5304 metres high.  Pedro and I set out first, and Max followed us up the mountain.  I reached the top after just over three hours (400m per hour ascent rate), and waited there for Pedro and Max (who climbed it in 2 hours 37 mins!).  It was a beautiful summit, not too cold, and the views out over the lake were spectacular.  There were some rocks on the top, but it’s hard to say who put them there…

This one’s for you, lovely Bowline swans:

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Right, well, day two.  First thing, a 5050 metre mountain close to our lovely camp.  Max and I raced up there in an hour and 37 minutes, with a 2 and a half hour round trip.  You can see a pile of rocks on the top – we were not the first to get there…

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Well, because it was such a quick climb, we decided to make lunch (Max is actually quite a good cook!) and move camp to a place where we could go for two more mountains.  We did that, and I was just about to take a siesta….when the boys dragged me out of the tent and we went up another mountain.  This one was Loma Colorada, 5268, and we raced up in 1 hour 37 minutes.  On the top was an apacheta which is a high pile of rocks built by the Incas.  We believe that this mountain is unclimbed, and were the first to see this structure!

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Well, we raced back down for tea.  On that topic, I brought about 90 sachets of delicious milk tea both from Japan (thanks Sarah!) and Singapore (thanks Gina and Kai!) and Max mercilessly mocked me for bringing so much with me.  Ha, well, one day rather than making their usual sickly sweet black coffee, Max and Pedro tried a sachet of my tea.  They are now properly addicted, although they insist on adding yet more sweetener.  I think I may have found a continent whose sweet tooth rivals even mine!

Ok, back to the climbing again.  They promised me a lie-in when they persuaded me to climb two 5000ers in one day, but took it all back the following day, and we broke camp and headed for our fourth 5000er in this region.  This one was called Morado, and we believe is unclimbed.  It’s 5223 metres, and took Max and me one hour and 40 minutes to climb (we’re now moving at 500 metres of ascent per hour if it’s not terrible scree, although I know Max can go much faster).  We found absolutely nothing on the top.  Nothing Incan, and nothing modern.  Interesting…

VIRB Picture

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Well, this post cannot end without one final tale of high tension.  Max and I came down from Morado and started the car.  It coughed some black smoke (as usual) and started ok.  We then noticed that the fuel gauge was showing 1/4 full.  The Argentinian border will not allow anyone to pass with a spare container of fuel, and they won’t sell fuel at the border either.  There was no way we could have carried more diesel, however we had many tens of km to drive off-road through thick sand to get back to a small track, and then 120km to the nearest town where we could buy fuel.  We started heading back, frustrated because we were super-acclimatised but stressed about the fuel situation.  The tyres had only 15 psi in them to get us over the rough terrain, which wasn’t helping our fuel consumption.  The fuel light came on shortly after we left, indicating 100km left in the tank, of tarmac road type driving.  Shit.  Pedro was calmly driving, while Max and I were calculating and re-calculating the distance to travel.  We made it to a mine and talked to the miners, but (despite having about half a dozen diesel vehicles and a diesel generator) they refused to sell us any fuel.  We carried on, now having 120km of driving along a track.  We were feeling seriously tense.  We put the car in neutral at every opportunity, calculating continually how far we’d have to walk if we ran out of fuel.  We didn’t see any other cars, so no hope there.  The gauge finally showed empty with 44km to go to the nearest town.  We held our collective breath and urged Conway onwards.  It was a long drop into the town, and we were doing 120kph in neutral at one point, cursing a bus that got in our way.  We promised Conway we’d fill his tank with gin if he’d get us there on the fumes that remained.

Max and I had been having a debate about Alanis Morisette’s song Ironic over the last few days.  Rain on your wedding day?  Irritating, but not ironic.  A black fly in your chardonnay? Really?  No.  Managing to get 130km on empty in your 4×4, with 20km to go and getting held up on the final climb before descending into the town by a lorry carrying DIESEL??  Yup, that counts as ironic to me.

Anyway, as you might have guessed, we made it.  Pedro refused to pull into the first petrol station, declaring the fuel low quality, while I shouted from the back seat that I didn’t care if it was kerosene, but it turned out he’d spotted another petrol station a bit further on, and they were open.  This was our fuel situation as we pulled in:


We filled up and drive 200km further to Copiapo.  We’re staying here for a few days, picking up our photographer, and heading back to the mountains on the 8th.  Wish us luck!


The following morning we drove straight to the Chilean border, 70km from our hut.  We could see that they had had quite some snow over the preceding months, and the officials there confirmed that the San Francisco pass had been closed nearly every day for the last 6 months.  The Chilean officials were friendly, and our crossing was much easier, although they did find my lovely raisins from the farm near Chilecito and confiscated them :-(

From there, we headed off-road and into the desert, finding a beautiful waterfall on the way.

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You’ll get used to the llama appearing in photos I’m trying to take from the back seat of the car.  This is Conway driving up a river.  When asked whether there was a story behind the slightly irritating llama swinging from the rear view mirror, Pedro’s reply was ‘It’s a llama.  I like him’.  Ok…


We passed high altitude lakes filled with minerals, complete with flamingos and even found some Incan ruins on the shores.  We were surrounded by the mountains we had spent months looking at on google earth.

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We made a great camp on the shores of a beautiful (and extremely remote) lake, and settled down for the night.

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The cliffs just above our tents must have thousands of trad routes, as well as bouldering galore.

Heading to Chile

Well, we decided to attempt to cross the (now infamous) San Francisco Pass and head for Chile.  We had to cross the pass sometime in the next week to pick up the photographer who’s joining us for a couple of weeks (Caio) and we heard that the pass was finally open.  It has only been open for a few days since March, so we drove up there.  We stopped at the hut at 4000 metres where Pedro and I had stashed water a couple of weeks earlier, to find that someone had taken it.  That’s a pretty dangerous thing to do – thankfully we weren’t relying on it, but up in the high altitude desert, water can be a precious thing.

We carried on to the border.  Max has had some degree of trouble at this border in the past (well, he’s been arrested a few times), so we were understandably nervous.  Some of the border guys are ok, others appear to be looking to cause problems.  We hadn’t been given a piece of paper for the car when we crossed from Brazil into Argentina, which we needed, but thankfully (with a few hot exchanges of words which I couldn’t understand!) the border guys allowed us to cross.  We were lucky, they could have turned us away.

So, we were through the Argentinian border.  Now to reach the Chilean border.  It’s 120km away though!  We were supposed to drive straight through, but there’s a beautiful hut en route on the shores of a lake which had thermal springs, so we stopped for the night there.  It looks like paradise, but it’s absolutely freezing!  The lake is full of minerals which stop it from freezing over, and the wind is so fierce that waves lap the shore.


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Well, it turns out that Max and Pedro have been there lots of times, and were wusses when it came to the hot springs.  The water wasn’t actually hot, but it’s all relative, so I donned my bikini and jumped in.  I didn’t linger too long, and getting out of the warm water back into the wind nearly gave my hypothermia!


Still, we had a lovely dinner there, eating all of our fresh food, before heading for the Chilean border the following day.  The guys there were really nice, although unfortunately we had to hand over all vegetables, fruit, cheese etc, and the lovely raisins from my adventure in Chilecito.

Still, we had made it over the border, and could now head for some of the most remote mountains in the Andes.  We had picked a route, and several mountains to attempt to reach…

Desert adventures!

We left the hut the next morning and headed into the desert.  We drove for hours, before getting stuck in a snow drift.  We collected rocks and made a hard surface for the tyres, and I drove while Max and Pedro heaved the car out.  Note to selves, avoid snow…

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We reached a beautiful lake, and Max’s keen eyes spotted some Incan ruins on the shore.  We already knew that Incas tend to build structures on the shores of, or overlooking, lakes.  These ruins have been discovered before – we were not the first people to take this route.  The water is filled with minerals, and totally undrinkable.

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Well, onwards for us!  One more problem though…a muddy river crossing which had us all holding our collective breath, and then a security checkpoint.  It seems that the area containing our mountains is environmentally protected, despite a huge mine and an associated road going off into the mountains.  We were nervous because we knew the people at the checkpoint would stop us and make us turn around.  So…we didn’t stop.  We just kept on driving straight through the checkpoint and up the road.  The officials didn’t appear to chase us…perhaps because they knew we’d have to come back that way.

The road wasn’t great either, and we had some problems with deep snow, but after several attempts and some great driving from Pedro, we powered through:

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Until we reached a huge patch of ice.  Seriously massive.  No going any further.  We were disappointed as there were a couple of mountains we really wanted to reach, but there was no way we could get there, so we set up camp in the road.  I fell over and smacked my face on the ice (typical), biting my lip which then made me look like I’d been in a bar fight.

We were definitely the first people to reach this place since the previous March, so no fear of getting in anyone’s way with our campsite in the road.


The following day, we decided to climb a mountain a few km away from camp.  We had 8km of distance to travel to the top, and 1200m of altitude gain.  The mountain was 5225 m high, and it took me 6 hours to get to the top.  When I finally arrived, Max was asleep on the top!  He’d been waiting there for quite some time, and it was freezing up there!  Pedro took some nice photos when he arrived, and there were some Incan ruins on the top:

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We headed down, and the following day decided that as we couldn’t go any further, it was time to face the authorities.  We had a plan – Max would do the talking, and, if necessary, I would cry.  We approached with some trepidation, having seen that they had followed us some distance up the road before turning back the previous day.  We crept through the checkpoint, looking behind us all the time, but nobody came out to chase us.

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We managed to cross the muddy river again (thinking hmmmm, please don’t get stuck here and have to go and ask the authorities for help to get out!) and we were away, back to Chilecito, my favourite place.  Here’s a photo of the ‘main road’ back, part of the Dakar Rally route from a few years ago.


And that was our first mountain.  We thought it was unclimbed (apart from the Incan ruins on the top) but we later found a report suggesting that a mountain of that altitude (roughly) near the mine had been climbed before, so we aren’t counting that one.  Still, it was great for acclimatisation, and the adventure continues…

Leaving Chilecito!

We left the hostel in Chilecito at 5am and drove straight to the roadworks.  We  got there well before 7am (when they conveniently close the road for 12 hours) and went over the pass.  Then it was off-road and we drove up to 4500 metres, passing some awesome ruins built in the 19th Century.


Unfortunately as the terrain was so rough, Conway got a puncture, right in the middle of the open desert with no protection from the wind.  It was totally freezing, but the boys changed the tyre in no time!


We then had a choice – go on with no spare tyre, tens of kilometres into the desert with no roads, or go back to the last town (a few hours back down) to try and get the puncture repaired so at least we would have one spare tyre.  We went down, but, of course, it was the middle of the siesta.  We asked around and some lovely local guys phoned up the mechanic (who was at home, asleep) and he came and fixed our tyre!  Then we were off again, but we had lost quite a bit of time so we made it to the ruins and slept there.  We made a fire in the hut, and put our tents up in there, so the mice wouldn’t nibble us in the night!