Andean Adventures 2023

The complex west face of the 6188m Nevado Copa, Peruvian Andes.

Sweeping up from the glacier one thousand meters below, the imposing west face of Nevado Copa, with its domed summit at 6188m, is a complex mass of twisting crevasses, seracs, and vast fields of nieves penitentes. Whilst never too steep, weakening snow bridges and intricate route finding give ample cause for caution. 

From a glacial high camp at 5200m, Karen and I make an initial reconnaissance of the lower snow slopes to a high point of 5536m on 26 August 2023. After taking this day to rest, Alan joins our rope party for a summit attempt the following day, and we depart frost-encrusted tents at 4 am under clear and cold skies.

An initial one-hundred-meter scramble over smooth moraine slabs leads to a broad convex snow ramp, which forms Copa’s western spur. After reaching the previous day’s high point, we traverse northwards along the face, weaving between open crevasses and skirting beneath a towering wall of deep blue serac ice. Safer ground follows, although breaking trail on steepening snow drains energy, as further crevasses are negotiated and the 6000m contour line draws closer.

Pausing below yet another crevasse high on the face, we consider our options. Concern grows over the sun’s weakening effect on the myriad of snow bridges we had crossed earlier in the morning. With half an hour before our agreed turnaround time, it is clear any hopes of summiting are dashed, and the merits of continuing any further are carefully weighed.

At 8.59 am and 260m below a rapidly clouding summit, the decision is made to turn around. We descend through the maze of impeding snow features so aptly negotiated only hours before to arrive safely at high camp around midday. The summit may have proved elusive, but we had an excellent high-altitude adventure.

To climb in the Andes had been a dream for many years. Perhaps it was the allure of greater altitude, expedition-style approaches and more complex logistics. Or maybe it was the remoteness, the Latin American culture, or the attraction of something more adventurous. It seemed to me a logical progression from climbing in the European Alps, and it would serve well to further my mountaineering apprenticeship before further exploratory expeditions to the Greater Ranges.

This venture also had more practical desired outcomes. With the International North Sikkim Expedition 2023 a short three weeks after my return to the UK, this was the perfect opportunity to test new equipment and refine my living in the mountain environment. I wanted to provide Montane with feedback on some of our latest gear, test my choice of Precision Fuel & Hydration products, and capture content for our long-term expedition partner Expedition Foods. I was also enthusiastic to better understand options for water purification, mountain nutrition, medical supplies, expedition cooking, and the development of acclimatisation profiles.

I also believed that time in the Andes might shed light on my own elusive motivations for expedition climbing: why am I inescapably drawn to these remote environments, and why do I keep coming back when success, or even the chance of a few days at the sharp end, often seems so fleeting. Since it has become clear I will not stop doing this anytime soon, how do I curate a lifestyle where regular big expeditions are possible, and to what ultimate purpose?

Of course, I have some insights which, with further contemplation, go some way to furnishing such questions with useful answers. For now, however, they give plenty to consider whilst waiting out rainstorms under the flapping fabric of our small, tented home.  

After arriving in Huaraz on 6 August, Karen and Alan had to wait several days for delayed luggage to arrive from Lima. Keen to start acclimatising, we spend the next few days exploring the hills and pequeños lagos surrounding the Ancash capital. Once all bags had finally materialised, preparations were quickly made for a five-day outing to summit the 5326m Nevado Maparaju in the Chinchey massif.

From the trailhead at Pitec, 20 km east of Huaraz, we establish a basecamp next to a freshwater spring where the Quilcayhuanca valley forks to the north and the Cayesh valley to the east. The following day we make an acclimatisation trek to the 5100m Huapi Pass, which offers striking views over the east face of Ranrapalca and the imposing south face of Palcaraju. On 13 August, we establish a high camp at 4350m in the Cayesh, which allows for an acclimatisation reconnaissance up to 4822m the following day.

With the return to high camp came the onset of two days of heavy rain. Waking at 1.30 am on 15 August for a planned summit attempt, a torrential downpour and thick cloud put paid to any hopes of further climbing. During a drier spell later that morning, we packed up high camp and descended to basecamp, waiting out yet more rain until our mules and arrieros arrived the following morning.

This outing proved to be a superb demonstration of concept. I learnt we could take advantage of mules to establish a comfortable basecamp, giving the opportunity to effectively acclimatise before moving to a higher camp that was optimally placed for a summit attempt. My layering system worked well, I ate well and stayed hydrated, and I felt fit on the mountain. I felt taking a day to reconnoitre the start of the route was wise, and our decision to call off the summit attempt due to unfavourable weather conditions was sensible.

Would it be possible to do this route in a two-day push from Huaraz? Yes. Would such an approach afford the same opportunities for acclimatisation, learning, and, ultimately, enjoyment? I doubt it.

Nevado Pisco at 5760m was selected as our next objective. Nestled in the heart of the Cordillera Blanca, the mountain commands a superb position over the valley and trailhead of Cebollapampa. The peak came highly recommended by friends, we understood conditions to be good, and at just over 400m higher than Maparaju, the altitude suited our acclimatisation profile perfectly. We meet our mules and arrieros by the trailhead at Cebollapampa and set off up the steep twisting trail to establish a basecamp at 4650m. Set just below the Refugio Peru, in the shadow of the grand east face Nevado Huandoy, our tents nestle beneath the boulder field of a small green pasture with a spectacular panorama of Pisco’s steep south face.

The following day, we establish a moraine camp at 4850m. We are blessed with a magnificent position on the northern flank of the severely retreated Huandoy Glacier, a poignant reminder of the dramatic and terrifying challenges these precarious mountain environments now face. We take 19 August as a rest day and decide to explore the short distance from camp to the edge of the Pisco Glacier. We enjoy life in this wild place. The situation is truly spectacular; we have fresh spring water just meters from the tents, and we are blessed by good weather. We listen to music, practice meditation, and undertake afternoon yoga sessions. We could have taken the single-skin tents; these would have been lighter and made the approach from basecamp less arduous. However, we find a little extra comfort makes for better sleep and more effective acclimatisation, and as we plan on spending three nights up here, we feel the additional weight is well worth it.     

We start before dawn on summit day. A trail leads steeply up the moraine bank to the start of the glacier. The snow is good, and the route is straightforward. We reach the 5300m col at sunrise; we are moving smoothly, and I feel well acclimatised. The short crux pitch gives a few enjoyable moves on reasonably steep ice and provides the route with some technical interest. It feels good to place a few screws; at least now, it feels like we are climbing. We summit just after 8 am under clear skies and a chilling wind. The superbly steep south face of Chacraraju at 6108m dominates the skyline and provides a beautiful backdrop to our summit photographs.

Our experience on Copa has made me think about how I approach each day on a big trip and how important it can be to understand your objective for a given day. Is it rest, establishing a higher camp, or a true mountain day? On the mountain, is it to survey a particular section, to reach a high point as part of a planned acclimatisation profile, or a summit attempt? If one can’t achieve that goal, maybe due to time, conditions, or human factors, is there any benefit to not turning back?

Staying on the mountain longer than you need to, just because you can, when you know you can’t achieve a defined objective, may put the team at a greater risk than was accepted when the plan for the day was first hatched.

I certainly agree with the style in which we approached these climbs. The term ‘light and fast’ in Alpinism is apt for modern marketing campaigns and certainly has its place in mountaineering, but I prefer an approach that is appropriate and efficient. With each outing, we took less, refining our clothing, technical equipment, and food. We gave careful thought to how we acclimatised, where we placed our camps, and when to commit to a summit.

Using the mules added an extra dimension to the adventure. It placed due importance on the idea of enjoying the journey, not to mention allowing for the addition of a few extra comfort items at base camp. I sought to strip back everything for the summit day, seeking to carefully balance weight, safety, and the expected technicalities on the route.

I was also fascinated by some of our discussions on this trip, from secular Buddhism, sleep science, and expedition nutrition to mountain leadership, human performance, and human factors affecting decision-making. I felt inspired to delve further into all these subjects, inspired to understand better how these disciplines can enhance performance in expedition climbing and shape my own personal development.  

Indeed, it has been most interesting to think about what is next. The obvious answers come to mind first: I want to be lighter, to refine my packing list, and to be fitter, stronger, and technically more proficient. I want to hone this craft in the European Alps before taking Alpine-style climbing to expeditions in the Himalayas and other Greater Ranges.

Whilst Peru has been a wonderfully enjoyable and developmental experience, I feel an unshakable desire to climb bigger routes at altitude. Perhaps not unsurprisingly, my most profound sensation is that I crave increased technical stimulation and difficulty. What has also become critically apparent is that this must be supported by a far greater breadth of experience in climbing big routes in the European Alps in summer and winter.

This trip has been a great adventure. I have found enduring friendships, and I have glimpsed a greater understanding of the why and the how of this great game. I may not yet have all the answers, but I do have some of the questions. Often, knowing what to ask is the most difficult part of the journey. I know what I want to be doing, and I am developing a framework for getting there. I believe I have a lot to gain from further mentorship, and I must seek to expand my network, for I have much to learn. For now, however, an expedition to India is just around the corner and with great excitement, much preparation is still to be done.

My participation on this Alpine Club Greater Ranges Meet was kindly supported by Montane, Expedition Foods, Precision Fuel & Hydration, and FATMAP. During this meet, I am also most grateful for securing the support of Mountain Safety Research for at least two future exploratory climbing expeditions. These adventures would not be possible without their continued backing, and for this support, I am enduringly thankful.

Huaraz, Peru, August 2023.