Acatenango

Firstly, I would like to apologize for my delay on posting on this blog. Truthfully I have been wrestling on what to post about. However, I believe a quick update on the events of my hike can suffice for now before I dive into something more “in-depth”.

As a part of our hospitality team, I was placed in charge of communication with our tour group for the hike. This meant that I was the first to receive the majority of information on Acatenango (the volcano). I sat with Bill and Katie listening to all of the different parts of this hike with a growing nervousness. “This hike is no joke, it’s like doing Yonah three or four times,” Bill would explain. If you don’t remember what Yonah was, it was a mountain back in Georgia that our whole squad did for a fun activity. I would be lying if I said it wasn’t a little difficult for me, so to hear that we would be doing that more than once in one attempt was…unsettling.

The day finally came, November 18th. We all piled into the van and bus that had come to the base to take us to the volcano. As we neared the volcano, my squadmates and I looked out our windows to see the monster of a hike that stood before us. I had one thing on my mind, don’t fall behind.

We finally got to the site and after some bathroom breaks, gear renting, and debriefing, we were heading out. I made sure to be up at the front of the group, talking to the tour guide and Banks as we walked up the road towards the main path. I tried to listen to music once we got onto the main path, however I couldn’t help but try my hand at Spanish conversation with our tour guide and David, a man who had come with us on our hike from Team Naya’s ministry. Our first checkpoint was the restaurant that we had been told of beforehand. They, supposedly, were well known amongst our returning team leaders as having some exceptional chicken burritos. They were not wrong.

With satisfied stomachs, we continued our trek, now on a narrow pathway that really could not allow for passage or acceleration. This turned into stairs. Lots. Of. Stairs. FINALLY, after so so many stairs, we reached “registration”. This hike had not been too much of a struggle for myself so far, but, registration? Isn’t registration usually at the beginning of something? Unfortunately, yes.

Now the real hike began. The easiest way to tell that we had really started was the pace that John Teter began to move at. The Coloradan in him seemed to become alive at the realization of the  beginning of a hike. I tried my hardest to stay in sight of Teter, as I knew that he would be leading the pack for the majority of the hike, and I did not want to fail at what I had set out to do. We began a series of switchbacks on muddy ground surrounded by Guatemalan forestry, and with Teter in front of me and Malachi behind me, I was convinced I could hold this position of second in the group for this hike. However, I was pushing myself.

Not after too long, I lost sight of both Malachi and Teter. Every railing, rock, bench, and even turn looked like a decent enough place to stop and take a break. But I would not let myself stop. I continued to pass people, tourists, venders, and locals saying “Hola” and “Buenas” between raspy breaths. Finally, I had to stop, just two minutes on this railing then the journey continued. I made my way up past many more people and finally to two stumps with a small clearing through the trees to see that I was beginning to break through the cloud line. I decided another small rest was necessary and a taller and lighter skinned man walked up to me. Quite honestly, I had no idea if this man spoke English, but I took a shot. “This hike is killer,” I said sounding delirious. “What, sorry?” the man replied with an accent, “English is fine.” My heart actually leaped, hearing my own language for the first time in 30 minutes, “This hike is killer,” I repeated. “Oh, this isn’t even halfway, haha!” replied the man cheerfully. At this point I really couldn’t be surprised, but myself and the man continued our way up the switchbacks together. He explained that he was born in Argentina, but had lived in Germany for the past thirty years, and was hiking Acatenango to get to Fuego, the active volcano right next to Acatenango. I was shocked but before I could continue, we rounded a corner and Teter began waving and saying, “There you are!”

Teter and I waited at what I believed to be our halfway point for awhile before Malachi finally rounded the bend, followed by a few more of our group. We remained there for lunch and rest for what felt like much too long. Teter and myself felt more than ready to continue. Finally, we all up and left, however the stops became much more frequent. As difficult as this hike was for myself, I was just as eager as Teter to get to the top of this mountain and see the destination that was so ready to be seen. We eventually reached a stretch of flat ground, simply stringing around the volcano. Finally, there it was. Our campsite, looking out over the active volcano, Fuego.

Though of course we had to get down the mountain. The hike up was a struggle, an accomplishment, and has made me sore in this current moment. That hike will not leave my mind, the things that I saw, the people that I connected with, and so much else. Right now, I am simply praying that I would be able to walk again by the time that we get to Vietnam!