The weeks before the climb I was on an emotional roller coaster. One minute I felt strong and prepared, another I felt I had no right to be thinking about such a peak. The logistics, too, were overwhelming. I felt as if I had to tie up every loose end, finish all the tasks that had long been buried in my inbox. I worried about saying goodbye to the kids and to friends. I worried about kicking my nasty cold and cough. I worried about staying warm on the mountain and avoiding blisters on my heels. I knew I would feel better once underway.
On Friday the 15th, Tom and I flew to Dallas, boarded a 767 to Santiago, Chile, and then heard the dreaded announcement, "This plane is out of service. We will all have to deplane and wait for another plane to be brought from the hangar." Painstakingly load 224 travelers and their bags onto a plane and into their seats and then, and only then, tell them, "Oops. Time to look for another plane." The pessimist in me thought there was absolutely no way another plane was going to materialize, but, lo and behold, since Dallas is a hub for American, another plane was dragged to a nearby gate. Three long hours later, after every inch of that plane was checked for security and all the bags and catering supplies were reloaded, we finally got underway. It seemed highly unlikely we would make our connection in Santiago.
The plane was a crappy retrofit--not particularly comfortable, even in Business Class (we used miles for award seats), but I took an Ambien and managed to get some sleep. Upon arrival in Santiago, an American Airlines rep in the hallway convinced us to run to our connecting flight and promised to have our bags put on the plane with us. I was skeptical, very skeptical, but we boarded the plane to Mendoza, Argentina. Our bags were only checked as far as Santiago, and there were no tags on them hinting that our final destination was Mendoza. We were relying on that one agent who had scribbled down the bar code numbers found on our baggage claim stubs.
As expected, our bags did not arrive, and I had visions of all my climbing equipment stuck on a carousel in Santiago. We waited in an endless line at the Mendoza airport and were told the bags would arrive on the last flight of the day. So, we took a short cab ride to the Sheraton, checked in, and took a nap. The phone awakened us. Stuart (one of our Alpine Ascents International guides and my lead guide on Rainier in '08) was at the airport looking for us. He found our bags, which they wouldn't release to him, but not us. I felt bad. Because we had arrived a day earlier than the official start date of the climb, I had no idea that he planned to meet us.
Later that night, Tom and I met Stuart, Dan (our lead guide), Richard and Marcel (two members of the team) in the lobby and walked to Francesco's for a lovely meal of absolutely divine pasta. Marcel is a little fussy, feminine, and high maintenance. Will be interesting to see how that plays out.
I laid pretty low on Sunday. Others in the group started trickling in--Jim M, complete with multiple silver chains on neck and wrist and a ring on every finger; Ritesh, very soft spoken and nice; Helvecio from Brazil, very friendly, lots of climbing experience, easy to talk to; Daniel, strong as an ox, our age, has climbed Denali; and Jim Keogh, affable Irish UPS pilot. And Liz. Liz, who was nice enough to say upon meeting me that she just had to give me a hug. I'm so glad she's along. She's a PA at Johns Hopkins and seems to do exactly what Catherine does.
After securing our climbing permits, we left Mendoza on Monday morning and drove to Penitentes, stopping for lunch along the way. The group is diverse but everyone is getting along and there are lots of laughs. We are now at the Hosteria Ayelen, right at the base of the ski area and only 8 km from where we start hiking tomorrow. We had to sort out all our gear--a duffel to be loaded on the mules, hiking clothes in a daypack for the hike in, and other items to be left here for retrieval upon our return. Lots of organizing.
It's been fun to watch groups trickle in as they're coming off the mountain--dirty, bearded, tired, and all anxious to hop on the gear scale to see how much weight they lost. My weight in shorts, t-shirt and Tevas: 55.8 kg. When we arrived here, it was cloudy and the wind was howling. Then it calmed and cleared. The temp is dropping as we are at about 8000'. Tomorrow begins my long adventure.
Just ate horribly bland ravioli for dinner. Dan and Stuart continue to entertain. Jim M is coming down with a cold, so he ate dinner in his room. Time for a little reading and some sleep.
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