We had a clear view of Volcán San Pedro from our campsite just outside of San Marcos, and with each passing day the thought of climbing it became more daunting. On day six, with our minds made up and the plan set, we caught a morning boat across the lake to the town of San Pedro. From there, it was a short tuk-tuk ride to the park entrance.
There was a non-optional guide for the first 30 minutes, to ensure we stayed on the proper trail. Although we appreciated his guidance, he set a faster pace than we would have for ourselves, which did not help our stamina for the remainder of the climb.
The bottom third of the hike took us through coffee and avocado plantations. These are often planted together, as coffee plants need the shade of the large avocado trees. These gradually turned into corn fields as we reached mid elevation. As we walked we appreciated how much work it would be to farm this steep landscape.
There were three lookout points along the way, each one giving a better view of the lake than the last. Even with our slow pace and frequent stops, the climb only took us 3.5 hours.
Although a burden on the way up, we were happy to have packed a large lunch. As we enjoyed the view and our sandwiches, we felt slightly discouraged with our physical endurance. While we had to rest and recuperate, everyone around us was casually enjoying their cigarettes.
The walk down was slower than you would expect for being downhill, it was steep and the stairs required close attention. We took just as many rests on the way down as we did going up, which is not usual. One of these stops happened to have a rope swing. Naturally, we had to give it go. A quick risk assessment, a test pull, and we were swinging!
We could not pass the opportunity to climb Volcán Acatenango and watch Volcán de Fuego, one of Central America’s most active volcanoes, erupting from camp at 13,000ft. On hiking day, we made our way to the base, parked, and rented some walking sticks (If you ever do this, trust us, you want the walking sticks). Learning from our mistakes on the last hike we set a slow pace.
After a few kilometres of farm land, we reached a forest in the clouds. The temperature dropped quickly, but was welcomed during the hard walk.
We knew from our research that there were three stops along the way, where you could purchase snacks and water. It was a relief knowing that we did not have to ration our water until after this stop. From here, the trail turned into steep, narrow switchbacks. The hard ground was turning into loose volcanic rock. The tumble that would follow a misstep kept us focused on planting our feet properly.
We kept hearing an ominous boom in the distance, and were full of excitement knowing we were approaching an erupting volcano. It seemed like forever, but at last, we rounded the final corner and seen ash and lava being thrown from the earth.
As we set up camp, the effects of the high altitude were obvious. We had to conserve energy when we could to keep the fatigue and headache from setting in. Sitting still and watching Fuego erupt was not a problem though. In between the eruptions we found ourselves looking out over the horizon, at the clarity of the blue sky and white clouds. It was a view we were used to only seeing outside an airplane window.
At dusk we got our first glimpse of what molten lava looks like. Intense. The ash plumes we had seen throughout the day were now glowing red hot and pouring down the side of the volcano. As we sat around our campfire, the eruptions had us laughing like excited kids (or maybe the high altitude and old friend whiskey had a little something to do with that to).
It was hard to sleep, and not because our hammock was hung higher than ever before, but because every earth shattering explosion was enough to wake you. At four AM we got up and made a group decision to not hike the summit and watch the sunrise. Rather, we would spend the final hours of darkness watching Volcán de Fuego belch out its fiery contents.
The hike down was not easy, but it was fast. Because there was hardly any stairs we could shuffle down at break-leg speed. Wearing a dust mask was crucial, as the volcanic soil flashed to dust the second you even looked it it. Back at the packing lot, the only thing on our minds was a rewarding after trek meal, a shower, and sleep.
The third and final volcano to climb in Guatemala, only this one we would climb on our motorcycle. The directions we had were spoty at best, and combined with the lack of signage, we got lost. This gave us an opportunity to explore the communities scattered along the slopes of the volcano. As we made our way closer to the top, the trail became extremely steep, rocky, and rutted. The front wheel of our fully loaded bike spent more time off the ground than we preferred, but we reached the top without incident.
After we set up camp, we climbed over the west-facing ridge to catch the fading daylight, and to us, the mosquitos were more of a sight than the landscape. Billions of them stacked in towering columns. It looked like tornados touching down. Amazingly, not one was biting. The thought crossed our minds that if they turned on us, we may die of blood loss. Or, barely survive, only to have contracted malaria.
That night we enjoyed a beautiful and clear night sky. We considered taking some photos, but we were exhausted from the journey to get here, and so we resolved to get the camera out the following night. That plan was quickly forgotten when we woke up in a thick cloud, which is less romantic than it sounds. It was extremely wet, in a 3 dimensional way, very unlike the rain we had become accustomed to over the last thirty days. We usually never had any issues keeping dry under the rain fly of our hammock. But, in this thick cloud, everything got wet. So much so, that moisture even crept into the camera (hence the lack of photos). Our original plan to stay two nights was quickly modified. Instead, we decided to be wet blankets, or rather we did not want to have wet blankets, and headed down mid day to avoid another bath in the clouds.
