Our very first experience with altitude in the Andes came sooner than we would have ideally wanted. It was a trip to the Laguna Quilotoa in Ecuador. We set off the day after arriving in Quito. In hindsight, we can say it wasn’t exactly the best idea.
After arriving in the capital of Ecuador we pick up the car at the airport and head south. That evening we end up near the town of Machachi. After a long flight and connections we only vaguely realise where we are. After a brief greeting with the host, exhausted, we fall into bed and are almost immediately “shut off”.
But we don’t sleep for long. Because of the time difference our internal clocks are completely messed up. Around five in the morning I run out of the accommodation and watch the scenery around us in stunned amazement. We are in a small village and volcanoes, hills and snow-capped peaks loom in the distance. The whole scene is shrouded in mystical clouds into which the morning sun has just begun to pierce. The humidity is worth mentioning too. I somewhat feel as if I had woken up in a rainforest.
A quick look at my phone reveals our altitude – approximately 3 100 m n. m. OK, we’re high. I return to the room hoping to sleep a little longer. I manage for a few minutes, but shortly after Iva wakes up and the morning routine slowly begins. We note that, unlike last evening, the room is noticeably colder.
We still don’t fully grasp the conditions we’ve found ourselves in, so after breakfast we quickly pack our things and head straight to our first destination – the Quilotoa crater.
Quilotoa Crater
The Quilotoa crater is part of an extinct volcanic massif and is surrounded by a prominent mountain ridge that offers several viewpoints. The full circuit around the crater is a popular all-day trek, with its highest point being the summit of Monte Juyende at approximately 3 930 m n. m. Just arriving at the crater rim thus means being at an altitude we’re by no means prepared for.
The crater is very easily accessible by car and is among the most visited natural attractions in this part of the country. Despite its easy access we arrive relatively late. Our driving in this area was complicated by ordinary landslides that blocked our route. In the end we park in a local settlement at the foot of the crater and set off at a brisk pace on a short walk.
The crater rim is just a short distance from the parking lot and within minutes views into the crater floor and onto the Quilotoa lagoon open up for us. Despite the extreme altitude everything around us is green, in places even a bit like our countryside. However, this impression is quickly disrupted by the incredible colors of the lagoon, the steep rocky cliffs of the crater and the llamas running everywhere.
There is also a path down to the crater floor, but I instead eye the crater’s highest point – Monte Juyende, which looks almost within reach. We’re separated only by a small grassy-rocky saddle. The path is clear, simple and technically undemanding. So we head toward the highest point. The weather is on our side, the wind only breezes gently and the sun occasionally peeks from the clouds. Even though we’re tired, the trail seems easy and the summit itself feels like something we could tackle anytime. But this is not anytime.
First problems
Iva is the first to report problems. We’re not even in the saddle yet and she indicates she’s tired and suggests returning. The route to the saddle is still slightly downhill and I feel I can make it, so we agree to split up and meet at the car. It’s not a serious decision – the terrain is simple, you can’t get lost and there’s still plenty of daylight. So Iva turns back and I continue onwards.
I’m at the saddle in a few minutes. I only have to climb roughly 230 vertical meters in relatively simple terrain. I start climbing. After the first few meters I feel as if I’ve just run a marathon. I try to catch my breath, rest and continue. But after another twenty meters I again feel like I’ve just finished a marathon.
This repeats about five more times. On the fifth time I look at the map and realize I haven’t even covered fifty vertical meters yet. Each step literally gets harder. I sit on a rock and think. The route to the car goes through the saddle and then an ascent – roughly 150 vertical meters. If I can’t easily manage even fifty now, how will I get through those 150?
Crisis
The desire to conquer Monte Juyende has to be put aside. It’s definitely time to return. I turn and head back to the car to meet Iva. Getting to the saddle is easy, problems arise again on the subsequent ascent. The scenario repeats – a few meters up, five minutes of gasping, another few meters up. For a while it’s even funny, but then despair sets in. ‘Is this even possible?’ I ask myself.
I literally feel my strength leaving me. I try to help myself with my hands, which paradoxically exhausts me even more. I begin to feel cold. Gradually I put on all the layers I have in my backpack. I drink a lot – so much that it’s clear the water in my camelbak won’t last long.
Finally the terrain levels out and I can see the village where we parked. From there it’s still all about fatigue and cold, but at least I finally pick up the pace a bit. The last meters I feel as exhausted as after a tough winter hike in the Tatras. The situation is saved by the first café along the way called Sinchy Tupak. Iva is already waiting for me there and has very wisely ordered coca tea for us. Despair and fatigue leave me. The tea is literally a lifesaver – coca leaves miraculously provide energy and the will to continue. The car is now just a short distance away.
Lesson
The Quilotoa crater is a visually powerful place and rightfully one of Ecuador’s icons. But we also receive a very valuable lesson here – and it didn’t have to be that way. First of all, we significantly underestimated sleep and the overall fatigue from the previous flight. The second, crucial mistake was the complete lack of acclimatization.
Immediately after arrival we found ourselves at altitudes around 3 000 m n. m., which is a shock to the body in itself. That wasn’t enough for us, and already the next day we attempted to climb a summit whose height approaches 4 000 m n. m.
During our further wanderings through the Andes we occasionally encountered enthusiasts similar to what we were back then. Some of them did not avoid serious health complications. From this perspective we were actually lucky – we exhausted ourselves completely, but left without consequences. The lesson, however, stayed with us for life:
‘If you’re not acclimatized, you simply don’t climb to 4 000 m n. m.’
Today we take the acclimatization factor for mountain trips extremely seriously.
Facts about the Quilotoa crater
- Type: extinct volcanic crater
- Highest point: Monte Juyende – approx. 3 930 m n. m.
- Lagoon in the crater: mineral, with changing water color
- Hiking options: viewpoints, descent to the lagoon, full-day circuit around the crater
- Difficulty: technically low, physically medium to high (due to altitude)