El tiempo had some mercy on us today as Alli, Gaby, Tiago and I, along with the Paypahuasi crew, climbed Rumiñahui, the volcano located in Cotopaxi National Park that rises 15, 459 feet above my lovely hometown.
You see, the rain did not start to fall until nearly the last 2 miles of our hike. And the pelting hail? Not until the last mile. As the previous 3 mountains we have hiked have offered 4-8 hours of soggy... no, soaking misery, this is progress I can appreciate, change in which I delight.
I think part of the deal today was I learned how to play the weather's game. As we were climbing, making our way into the final, rocky ascent, I saw rain drops splattering on the pierdras around me. I ignored them. This is every teacher's and parent's trick. Do not reward unwanted behavior with attention. It worked. We reached the summit without our socks squishing in our boots, without being fearful the wind was going to whip us right off the rocks we were scrambling up, without sleet slashing at our eyes and without frozen arthritic claws for hands.
Those smiles are authentic because it feels nearly balmy up there on that summit.
I'll eat chocolate to that! Salud, indeed.
This was actually a very peaky summit, and another group was on its way to the cumbre as well, so we spent little time up near the sky and began our descent perhaps 10 minutes after we had arrived. (Still, plenty of time to polish off most of the chocolate.) As I was butt scooting my way down the steep and somewhat slippery rocks, I saw la lluvia start to splash around me once again. Well, don't cha know, I had another trick up my sleeve: a big, yellow poncho. As soon as I was at an appropriate place for a little parada, I donned that rain slicker and continued on my merry way. Not more than five minutes later the rain let up de nuevo. Getting the hang of this, I thought to myself. It's all about not playing the game, or knowing just which card to throw down at the right moment. Clearly, it is time I pick up poker. (Clearly, also, I should have used that poncho on previous climbs. It occurred to me that while I have some kick-ass super powers, I am also a little slow on the uptake from time to time. No need to dwell on that now, though.)
The four trekkers were nearly skipping to the finish line as we entered the last hour of our hike. Then the rain came. For real. But at this point it seemed nearly inconsequential (until we reached the bus and I realized I had left my dry clothes sitting on my desk...mmm, again no point in dwelling on such faltitas...so I have some areas for growth, I'm really enjoying working on my evolution as a climber here...). As I realized my poncho was more rain resistant than rain proof, I still took great pleasure in the fact that my feet were in working order.
Altogether, today's climb was full of more pleasure than pain, and that puts us on the right track. I have an inkling that on our next climb--Pichi and her four cumbres in October--el sol may peak out from between the clouds and grace us with his presence.
I will leave you with my favorite photo from the trek. Thank you, David Weaver, for informing me that, no, I was not looking at Cayambe, but rather Cotopaxi, that ominous, but majestic volcano that haunts men's dreams and calls us forth to take on the challenge of its more than 19,000 foot summit.
