Chimborazo Summit attempt
I write this as we lay in our tent at Chimborazo Base Camp staring up at the towering summit through the tent window. The deep blue sky providing a vivid backdrop to the whisps of clouds being whipped across the summit of the 6273m peak. The gentle domed top is surrounded by more aggressive looking cornices, steep cliffs and the long scree/morraine slopes that surround this dormant volcano.
The wind rattling the tent is doing nothing for my nerves, "if it's this windy down here, what will it be like on the summit at hopefully 6am tomorrow" I worry. We shiver in the cold tent; after spending a few weeks in the warmer lowland cities it's somewhat novel feeling cold.
Our nerves are slightly calmed by the knowledge that we've acclimatized almost as well as possible: sleeping at over 3500m for almost 10 days and also summiting 3 peaks between 4300-5100m during that time.
Still, the 10pm start and the cool weather forecast weigh heavily on our minds. There are a number of factors besides our own fitness that may prevent us from summiting. We keep reminding ourselves that whatever altitude we get to, we will be at a new "personal best". The thoughts in my head flick between the fact that we've spent quite a lot of money so we need to give it our best shot to the thought that we need to enjoy it and know that we can turn around at anytime if we aren't. I think this might be the pinacle of type 2 fun.
The 4.5km trek from the refuge sounds do-able in the 9 hours before the turn-around cut off, however the 1500m of elevation gain at that altitude is somewhat daunting. "An average of 33% for 4.5km!!!!" We tell ourselves it's shorter than a parkrun, whilst scanning our Strava history to find our biggest previous acitivity to re-assure ourselves. Alas, nothing quite compares...
We pack our bags as we await the 4x4 that will take us up to the refuge. Not wanting to exert ourselves too much we spend hours chatting with others. As the morning progresses we busy ourselves with last minute kit decisions and repeatedly repacking our summit bags.
I'm finishing this post a few days after our unsuccessful summit attempt. I don't quite know where to start.... TLDR - we didn't reach the top due to some minor diabetes issues. Longer story below..
We got to the refuge in the afternoon, had an early dinner and went to bed at 6pm. Despite the nerves and the bizarre timing, we had. a surprisingly good sleep. We awoke at 10pm to begin the ascent.
After some tea and biscuits (for our rather surreal 10pm breakfast). We left the hut at 11pm, after a little bit of confusion amongst our guides regarding guiding ratios. After a later start than everyone else at the refuge, we put in a storming pace and reached the high camp at 5300m within 90 minutes, catching up with some other groups, where we met the other guide and redistributed the teams to ensure we were within the legal guide ratio. The snow line is susprisingly high, even relative to other nearby peaks.
We put our crampons on, and roped up. And continued progressing up the glacier. It was about 2am and the glacier was getting increasingly difficult to traverse. We were summiting in the dry season that meant clearer skies but the glacier is less snow covered so is more difficult underfoot. It was getting increasingly difficult and it soon became apparent I wasn't on my A game...
Successful summit attempts like this requires the alignment of multiple factors. The weather was perfect, our acclimatisation was as good as it ever will be and (we'd like to think) our mountain fitness is not to shabby either.
However, those who have run/skied/cycled with me before will know that one other factor unfortunately affects me.... diabetes. High altitude climbing presents a series of complicated maths conundrums regarding insulin requirements. On the one hand I was exerting myself strenuously which tends to increase insulin sensitivity and thus lower insulin requirements. On the other hand, the adrenaline, high altitude, and the early wake-up all increases my insulin requirements. Diabetes is always a balancing act, but with all of these factors it was even harder than usual to balance. Combined with the high potential impact of getting my insulin dosing wrong in a dangerous environment I was somewhat over cautious and didn't inject enough. This resulted in some lethargic/weak legs as I was getting insufficient energy to my muscles.
At 5700m, after a few stumbles and a few requests to our guide to slow down falling on deaf years, Mary and I made the difficult decision to turn around. It was a really difficult decision to make, but it was definitely necessary. Even if my body wasn't on its A game, I'm glad Mary and I had the clarity of thought to make the correct decisions on the mountain!
The long trek back to the refuge was surprisingly tiring. Turning around at 3am meant that we did 7 hours of walking completely in the dark without the reward of any sunlight or a view any further than the extent of our head torches. I think this made it even more difficult, to put in most of the work but get none of the reward was difficult.
We returned to the refuge at about 5am and slept. It has been a pretty exhausting effort!
So whilst we didn't have the fairly tale ending to our time in the mountains, and the smiling summit photo will need to wait for another day, we came down safely. Obviously many diabetics have summited more difficult peaks before, and I don't want to make it sound like an insurmountable challenge! However, your control needs to be on point, and this time (as a first time for me in the high mountains), I didn't get it quite right. Would we try another similar summit in the future? Possibly, but right now we're in no hurry to do so. Perhaps we would try lower but more technical summits in the Alps, but who knows. For now, we will return to the Spa town of Baños where we'll take some much needed rest in the thermal pools and replenish some calories in hot chocolate.
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