Volcano!

Yesterday was one of the most physically challenging days of my life. We climbed a volcano called Purace, in yet another national park near here. (I'm impressed with the number of national parks Colombia has. Every area we've visited has had a park).

We took the 5:00 a.m. bus from Popayan, got off at 6:30, and walked half an hour up a gravel road to the park headquarters. All national parks in Colombia charge foreigners 19,000 pesos (or about $12) entrance fee, but we learned at the last national park we visited that if we bring our passports and can prove our ages, we are eligible for the senior discount.

The park ranger had climbed the volcano with his father since boyhood, and was enthusiastic. He even walked us five minutes along the trail to get us going. "Have you climbed summits before?" he asked. "Oh yes," we reassured him. "Lots of times!"

Easy words. From the very beginning, I found it hard going. I had forgotten that simple physical reality known as elevation. Popayan is at 1760 meters, the park headquarters where we started at 3350, and the volcano crater at 4760. Translated into feet, Popayan is at 5800', the park headquarters 11,000', and the crater at 15,600'. So we would be almost 10,000' higher than what we were used to.

We were not alone. At 5:30 that morning (two hours before us) a group of 33 from Cali had set off together, and a French couple started more or less with us.

The countryside was gentle and farmlike at the bottom, becoming increasingly steep, desolate and rocky. Sometimes I felt like I was trudging, one foot after the other. We had to rest at various points. It was hard work!

We reached a plateau, the low point of the crater rim, around 11:00 a.m., and then walked around the crater to the high point, watching rocks tumbling down the crater creating balls of dust as they accelerated. We could see vistas from both sides: the crater on one side, and sweeping valleys on the other.

As we started down, three people we had passed earlier reached the crater. One of the women burst into tears and got hugs from everyone. I think she was just overwhelmed by how challenging it had been. I kept thinking of her on the way down, wondering if her ecstacy at reaching the top might have dulled her awareness that descending wouldn't be much easier. It wasn't easier for me-- just a different kind of challenge. The upper stretches of the volcano hike were very steep and slippery. Plus I had developed an altitude headache that didn't fade even back in town, and we both felt nausea, though neither of us got sick.

We had just missed the bus when we got back to the park entrance, but as is our experience in countries like Colombia, you can forage rides this way and that. We got a ride in a van with a huge family (grandparents in the front, parents in the back, children of all ages from a baby to kids to young adults, plus us, all somehow sandwiched in the middle). That got us to a town about 40 minutes from the park, where the father pointed to a guy across the street and said, "He'll give you a ride!" Sure enough, our "pirate" taxista drove up and down the main street of town beeping, busking for passengers, finding two other adults and a kid, and drove us the last hour to Popayan for $3 each (well, that's what we paid, I suspect the locals paid less).

Back at our hostel, I took an ibuprofein, had a shower, then lay in bed wearing Barry's noise-cancelling earphones (well worth their weight here!). Two hours later, I was up for an Italian dinner.