Months ago, the La Paz Highest Hash House Harriers set the record for the highest hash ever run at 4,888 meters. Truly remarkable, considering that we are talking about a run/hike above the Montblanc, Europe's highest mountain. Back then, I can recall running in a blizzard, the cold wind biting into any square millimeter of exposed skin. Although there was a sensation about this, running in this wide and open land as if this was some newly discovered planet, I was, in essence, running for my life.
The next challenge will be a little more daunting for LPH4: The Even Higher Hash, as we label it, takes us to Chacultaya, a mountain standing at a proud 5,400 meters. I doubt very much there will be much running involved.
First, the drive: I take Matt out to El Alto--standard procedure, before inching our way through mostly pedestrian traffic at the market until we are home free and head for Chacultaya on a straight shot. Of course, that term is relative. A few hundred meters from the market, the paved road ends, and the SUV's power and navigating abilities take over.
Once outside El Alto, I am convinced I am in a western, and that at any moment I will find two lonesome riders, heads humbly bowed, riding in from the prairie. There are miles of prairie land and rolling hills in the distance with not a house or animal anywhere. It is simply a beautiful sight. This will change once we reach Chacultaya and start the long descent up to the mountain hut. This is the Death Road revisited, with the exception that this place is not nearly as wide! Eyes on the road, I keep telling myself, and let the 4 x 4 do its thing, right?
Eventually we reach the hut and the parking spot for the minibuses and other tourists' vehicles--at a proud 5,300 meters, as the sign proclaims. Supposedly this is the second highest place you can reach by car in the world (I still have no clue where the highest is). I get out of the car, and a blast of wind nearly knocks me off my feet. The fleece, sweaters, long pants, gloves, cap, and cowboy hat are not nearly enough--I am freezing!
Once I get over the cold, I look around, and there are the peaks of the Andes wherever you look. On top of the world. Ignore the cold, and it's a view you won't have anywhere else.
The two minibuses carrying over 20 more hashers arrive, and it's time to run. The trail was set well in advance, so now it's time to perform.
I go on a slight jog for only thirty meters...and am about to drop. Easy, Cowboy, I am thinking. You're at over 5,300 meters, dummy. Even hiking, I am amazed at how much effort it takes me to move forward--and I am the leader of the hasher caravan! The wind is blasting unmercifully, I can barely breathe, and my heart flutters. Not good. For an uncomfortable moment, I am sure I will pass out. But I can't. Not as the leader.
Eventually, we all make it to the summit of Chacultaya 150 meters later--it takes forever! I am still not breathing well, and I really want to get back to the hut, but I'm not alone here. We take our photos at the top, start a couple of snowball fights, and heckle a group of Austrian hikers who thought they were so much better than us.
Descending is an easier task. One of our group--a Polish journalist is very slow and a long distance behind the pack. While we are all drinking beer near the hut, we are seriously beginning to wonder about him. We send out a couple of men with the oxygen tank back up to the summit...until we see his big silhouette appearing in the distance. We all let out a hearty--and thoroughly relieved--cheer. He joins us for a nice cup of Saya beer.
We eventually settle in a pyramid observatory. This is a pyramid like glass structure that will fit 15 people (if they make room), is protected by the wind, and allows us to gaze out over the Andes for as long as we please. It is--literally--a breathtaking view. The Andes in their full glory.
Mission accomplished. We make it to the summit without any casualties. I am now more aware of altitude and what it will do to you, if the necessary precautions are not taken. I can see now how 150 meters at an altitude like this can take 30 minutes...the body was simply not made to live under those conditions. This is where mind and body are severely tested. They certainly were that day.
The next challenge will be a little more daunting for LPH4: The Even Higher Hash, as we label it, takes us to Chacultaya, a mountain standing at a proud 5,400 meters. I doubt very much there will be much running involved.
First, the drive: I take Matt out to El Alto--standard procedure, before inching our way through mostly pedestrian traffic at the market until we are home free and head for Chacultaya on a straight shot. Of course, that term is relative. A few hundred meters from the market, the paved road ends, and the SUV's power and navigating abilities take over.
Once outside El Alto, I am convinced I am in a western, and that at any moment I will find two lonesome riders, heads humbly bowed, riding in from the prairie. There are miles of prairie land and rolling hills in the distance with not a house or animal anywhere. It is simply a beautiful sight. This will change once we reach Chacultaya and start the long descent up to the mountain hut. This is the Death Road revisited, with the exception that this place is not nearly as wide! Eyes on the road, I keep telling myself, and let the 4 x 4 do its thing, right?
Eventually we reach the hut and the parking spot for the minibuses and other tourists' vehicles--at a proud 5,300 meters, as the sign proclaims. Supposedly this is the second highest place you can reach by car in the world (I still have no clue where the highest is). I get out of the car, and a blast of wind nearly knocks me off my feet. The fleece, sweaters, long pants, gloves, cap, and cowboy hat are not nearly enough--I am freezing!
Once I get over the cold, I look around, and there are the peaks of the Andes wherever you look. On top of the world. Ignore the cold, and it's a view you won't have anywhere else.
The two minibuses carrying over 20 more hashers arrive, and it's time to run. The trail was set well in advance, so now it's time to perform.
I go on a slight jog for only thirty meters...and am about to drop. Easy, Cowboy, I am thinking. You're at over 5,300 meters, dummy. Even hiking, I am amazed at how much effort it takes me to move forward--and I am the leader of the hasher caravan! The wind is blasting unmercifully, I can barely breathe, and my heart flutters. Not good. For an uncomfortable moment, I am sure I will pass out. But I can't. Not as the leader.
Eventually, we all make it to the summit of Chacultaya 150 meters later--it takes forever! I am still not breathing well, and I really want to get back to the hut, but I'm not alone here. We take our photos at the top, start a couple of snowball fights, and heckle a group of Austrian hikers who thought they were so much better than us.
Descending is an easier task. One of our group--a Polish journalist is very slow and a long distance behind the pack. While we are all drinking beer near the hut, we are seriously beginning to wonder about him. We send out a couple of men with the oxygen tank back up to the summit...until we see his big silhouette appearing in the distance. We all let out a hearty--and thoroughly relieved--cheer. He joins us for a nice cup of Saya beer.
We eventually settle in a pyramid observatory. This is a pyramid like glass structure that will fit 15 people (if they make room), is protected by the wind, and allows us to gaze out over the Andes for as long as we please. It is--literally--a breathtaking view. The Andes in their full glory.
Mission accomplished. We make it to the summit without any casualties. I am now more aware of altitude and what it will do to you, if the necessary precautions are not taken. I can see now how 150 meters at an altitude like this can take 30 minutes...the body was simply not made to live under those conditions. This is where mind and body are severely tested. They certainly were that day.
