Gwen and I are just getting ready to snuggle into our down cocoons when she dares me: I'll drink another if you do. A litre. Water, of course. It's our second night at Plaza de Mullas, base camp for the normal route on Aconcagua, and we've both drunk only about 2 litres today. I take the challenge, grab my graduated bottle and start. It's a long, cold, breathless journey to the bottom. I have to stop and pant a few times between gulps, but Gwen evidently doesn't have a much easier time and we call it a tie. Shivering, I worm my way into my bag, tuck my headlamp in cosily, and try to get some rest.

Two little figures in the big Horcones valley

Today was a rest day all round after yesterday's walk from Confluencia. We climbed 900m over 20km, and would probably have spent last night below the final climb if it weren't for the lack of water. Instead we pushed on, breathing in on one foot, out on the other, and reached the 4200m base camp at 7pm. After a cup of what we thought at the time was mate from the mule-organisers, we pitched our tents at the lowest extremity of the camp, shoveled down some supper and tried to sleep.

It's several days before I feel well enough to walk far, by which time the others have made their first carry towards Nido de Condores, our next camp at 5400m. Iris and Gwen seem to feel fine, although only Gwen got all the way to Nido; Nir walked most of the way up in spite of not feeling well. But today we're just going to try a nearby Cathedral, 5100m, for fun and acclimatisation. I leave a bit later than Gwen and Iris, but they wait for me at the top of the first hill behind the Hotel.

A game called "ten fingers (plus a few) of Dulce de Letche", and my friend the giant penitente

The penitentes below Cathedral's south slope are soft and mushy from the sun, so we decide to try the other side of the valley, which leads to the peak Bonete. I get left behind and stop not very far up that side, and after leaving a message with a fast Spanish-speaking party (without any Spanish) head down again, via the scenic route.

Nothing happens when I press the button - no comforting little whine, no movement, and I forgot my spare battery down in the tent, so no pictures today. I've barely left basecamp, but there's nothing would make me retrace the last 15 minutes, the beginning of my first walk up Aconcaagua proper. I'm carrying as little as possible: water, lunch, a fleece jacket and my small camera which lacks a battery. The others started earlier with much heavier packs, it's already their second carry up to Nido.

The huge scree slope leading up to Cambio de Pentientes (4200m) where Iris arrives against the backdrop of ??Cuerno

It's a slow trudge all the way up: place one cheerful bright red boot's heel next to the other's toe, breathe in, other foot, breathe out. And try to choose the well zig-zag paths of well compacted scree, avoiding not the loose ski runs used to get back down. The guided parties start later and slowly catch up with me, all walking in step and no-one daring to say hi as they go past.

I stop for a snack at around noon and let them all past, but can't regain my rhythm afterwards and make very little progress in the next hour. My headache is worse and the cold creeps in despite the sunshine, so I stop again to get warm. For almost an hour I sit and savour the feeling of altitude, my headache and dizziness dulled along with my sense of time, and my vision constricted to a central tunnel.

At some point it sinks in that I should start down now, but I feel very tired and have great difficulty keeping going. Walking feels far too slow, but skiing down the scree is painful with a headache. I stop to rest often, either sitting or just flat on my back. Which is what I was doing when a Korean guy came across me, and insisted on shepherding me down, somewhat against my wishes although I couldn’t tell him that, we didn't share a language. Perhaps that was a good thing.

It's quite crowded with 5 people in a 2-man tent, and no-one wants to leave. I'm not quite sure how we came to have only one tent up here, but we do. It doesn't really have much to do with Nir's new Bibler blowing away three days ago on our first attempt to move up here. Apparently they put all the poles in before pegging it down, and then found the snow pit was too small for it. I arrived just a minute too late, and met them all on their way down 100m from Nido.

The only connection in fact was that they brought all the gear down with them, so when we decided to try just one more time, we had a lot to carry. Nir said he wanted to try out his fancy bivvy sack (he was the only one who had a job) and the rest of us decided two tents would be too heavy. That doesn't explain why we didn't take Frankwin's 3-man tent, but we didn't.

Turnig around the first time at Nido and scenery the second time.

So after a gumble-squashed night trying to sleep on my elbows and heels to escape the cold from below, we're all sitting around discussing whether to go up, wait here or go down. This is a very complicated decision. Nir's sleeping bag is somewhat damp from condensation in his bivvy sack, but he wouldn't go down without his sister Iris, who isn't feeling perfect but wants to go on. I am keen to go on, if only to break 6000m, although I think we have little chance of summiting (6960nm) and have cold toes. Gwen thinks it pointless to aim for a number, and Frankwin just knows we're going nowhere. (I'm sure I've offended everyone by now!)

After many hours of this altitude-impaired argument, we've only melted snow for 6l of water among us, and haven't had much breakfast yet. Satisfied that we've done enough circuits of the options, we all go to have a look at the path to camp Berlin. The weather looks fine, but a German party tells us the Guardia-Parque think a storm is coming. So after the obligatory group photos, we pack up and head down.

Frankwin giving Gwen encouragement over her collapsing ski poles. Ascending and descending the same snow slope on Cathedral.

The storm does arrive the next day, and finds us on across the Horcones valley trying Cathedral again, this time at the top of the snow slope. From there where the route climbs one of a spray of couloirs to a ridge which leads to the summit. These couloirs are supposed to be full of snow to stick the scree together, but this year are just impassable lose scree. We wanted to try another route along a ridge, but decided the weather wasn't going to give us long enough.

The snow slope seems harder going down; we punch through the crust and sink in up to the hip continually. Frankwin offers us coffee at the Hotel, an offer we can't refuse. Surprisingly, the hotel is unheated, but the coffee is good and they even give us some biscuits (although $3 still seems ridiculous.)

The next day we pack up and say goodbye to a much more crowded Plaza de Mullas, as it is now high season. Just as we finish negotiating with the mule-men, a Norwegian pair we had met earlier pass us, they summited yesterday in the storm! (I'm sure we're at a disadvantage coming from the near-tropics!) It takes us about 5 hours down to Confluencia, and we're back in Mendoza the next evening.

I wrote this article during 1999 just for myself, and later slipped it into a Wits journal I co-edited.

Next: Sneaking up Volcan Villarica