The Climb

It seems that every week I do something a little more dangerous. Two weeks ago I sauntered into a riot. Last week I jogged down a mountain. This week I climbed a hill.

Maybe I should back up a bit. Last Friday we had a small rainstorm, clearing up the air for the next couple of days. So Brian, Peter, Tito and I decided to go to San Cristobal Hill, the highest point in the city. People told us that you can see everything from up there. Seemed a good a way as any to spend the day.

Cristobal is notable by the statue of Virgin Mary on its peak. You can juuust make it out here. It's under
the central spire. We walked in, started taking the path up. Then Tito pointed at a small but steep slope and said "hey, we should climb that."

It didn't seem like a bad idea. I mean, hey, we could see the top. Twenty feet at the highest. You guys can't because at the time I wasn't thinking it was important enough to photograph. It was going to be a two minute diversion followed by more walking. So we set out to scramble it.

Two minutes later we were at the top. That was fun. Hey wait, there isn't a path here. Oh, there's another climb. Looks a bit steeper, but I can manage. Hey, there's another one!

Repeat ad nauseam.

After about the third time this happened I realized I was in for the long haul. The slopes got harder and more painful. Nice little ledges and tractioned dirt gave way to precarious carpets of rocks, brambled trees, and slippery mud. Bad where the ones where your footing gave way from underneath. One wrong move and I'd tumble back down. It almost happened a couple of times. One time the stones tumbled away from me, leaving my body supported by a slick patch of mud and the tree branch I clung to. I hoisted myself up, slipped my feet behind the trunk, and continued on. Tito and Brian quickly ranged ahead. I stayed behind to help Peter, the only one among us who realized at the start this may have been a bad idea. We continued together for a while, then drifted apart. I was on my own.

I adamantly believe that of the four of us I had the hardest route. At least Tito and I worked that out in retrospect. At the time it was all about getting a little higher, trying to find the next handhold, calling out names to make sure nobody got hurt. It was a long way down and a longer way up. The route steadily got worse. Fields of loose rocks, one in a dozen offering a small foothold. Make sure to find a second fast before the rock, loosened by your entire weight, pops out. Gaps between me and the isolated trees. Throw my body forwards and grab it fast. Dead ends, far too far to the next target. Only thing to do is to move sideways and hope the sickly bushes there can be worked into handholds. Up and up. Dimly I realized how high I was and that falling was my most primal fear. I should be paralyzed with terror. I looked down, saw the long tumble behind me. But foot balanced on an sunken boulder, hands resting on a fallen log, I felt safe. I knew the fall wouldn't happen. I would get to the top.

Spined bushes gave way to more seas of stones and iron deadwood. Another patch of forestry, this time a little thicker. Then sight of the other three behind a stone wall. I climbed my way up to the threshhold and pulled myself on. Victory at last!

I turned around and pull out my camera.

The tallest building in Santiago is 200 meters tall. I think we climbed past that. Probably the most foolhardy climb yet (man I need to read about climbing safety), but we did it. And we still had higher to go. We ended up a little off the proper path, and there weren't any of the ubiquitous railings. The short walk to the proper path was the scariest part of the trip. Weird that a guy who just went through that would be so terrified of an unprotected walk. But the fear of falling was so bad I almost had to crawl. After five minutes we got a railing again and everything was okay. I'm scared of heights. Sue me.

We quickly got to a place way from all of the bush and bramble, where the slope was steep enough to take pictures of the city itself.

We were now near the peak of the hill and the Virgin Mary, which is much larger up close.

 

When we finally got there we found the place packed with tourists doing that "hold out the camera with one arm facing your" touristy camera picture. Totally in contrast with the stark Mary my camera caught. We got bored quickly and left.

On the way down we took another (but smaller) rocky path. Peter finally decided he had had enough of our suicidal tendencies and abandoned us. I got mud all over my pants and shoes, but it was worth it for the view. We landed on the ledge just as the sun was setting. It threw crimson bands along the mountain peaks, a lazy crown over the Chilean city. We stared solemnly at the scene for a minute and then ruined it with the clicks of cameras.

Vertigo wasn't much of a problem on the way back. Even if somebody shoved me off the ledge the mud on my sneakers would have kept me anchored. I know it sounds facetious but that's what kept me from curling into a ball. Eventually we made it back sans Peter and went shopping. What we bought is a story for another time (like never).

One of the really great things about this trip is how it's been pushing me outside of my comfort zones. It's not just because of my surroundings; many of these things (sans riot) could happen in Chicago and Michigan. I think it's also the company. We are eight college students, all roughly the same age, all near the peak of physical aptitude and adventurousness. We are physically isolated from our friends who could tell us "um..." and given a huge travel budget. We build on and amplify each other. I would not have climbed the hill until Brian and Tito went first. They showed it was possible. I merely tried to keep up. This doesn't explain everything (again riot), but I think it's part of the explanation.

And I'm pretty glad for it. The hill was a dangerous and scary experience, yes, but it was also wonderful.  I was happy while it happened and I'm happy it had happened. But it's gonna be hard to find something even more dangerous to do next week. We're planning on exploring the desert. Maybe we shouldn't take supplies? That or start water fights while there. Give it time. I'm sure we'll figure out something.