I am not known for reading “the fine print.” But this is one time when it may have helped. Apparently, the ascent up Cerro Chirripó is rated as “very difficult.” But I never read that. I assumed that since it was “only” 12,500 feet in elevation that it would not be especially challenging. After all, I reasoned, a few years ago I summited Kilimanjaro which is over 19,000 feet. Chirripó should be a like a “walk in the park.” Never have I been so wrong!
Our hiking team consisted of 7 people. Four were from the USA and three of us live in Costa Rica. It was a special treat for me to have three people from Summit join us: Dan and Kayden Thornton and Mike McBride. Our team assembled on Tuesday morning at my house to board our transportation for the 4-hour drive to the national park. Looking back, we were all smiles! The old adage proved true: ignorance is bliss!
After checking in at the park to get our hiking permits, we stayed in a “boarding house” style hotel for the evening. Wednesday morning at 5:30 AM we assembled to begin our uphill journey. Two things I did not know ahead-of-time about Chirripó that made the hike especially challenging…
1. The first day we climbed 6,500 feet in elevation gain in 8.7 miles. For those who live in Nevada, this will put it into perspective: My home in Sparks was about 4,500 feet above sea level. The peak of Mount Rose is about 10,500 feet. So, the Chirripó ascent was like climbing to the top of Mount Rose from the elevation of my house in Sparks. I’ve climbed Rose many times. It’s a rigorous hike. But the trailhead is about 9,000 feet. So, the elevation gain in the Mount Rose hike is “only” 1,500 feet. A 6,500- foot elevation gain in 8.7 miles is insane! Looking back, I’m glad I didn’t read “the fine print.” I may never have attempted Cerro Chirripó!
2. The second thing that made the hike challenging was the trail. It was rocky, muddy, slippery and steep. I’m used to the trails in the Sierras. This trail was not at all like that. Nearly every step had to be navigated with care and physical effort. The longer we hiked, the slower I moved and the more tired I became. Toward the end, I felt like I was taking one-half step at a time, creeping more than hiking.
After 8 long hours of uphill hiking, I made base camp. The facility was actually quite nice. We had delicious hot meals, WIFI, 4-person coed bunk rooms, bathrooms with flushing toilets and even a small gift shop.
Thursday morning at 5:30 AM our team assembled to head toward the summit. But I must mention one important detail. This is the rainy season in Costa Rica. As a result, we were told emphatically that we would need heavy duty rain gear to make the hike. All of us brought this gear with us. We were ready!
However, on the morning of the ascent, our guide looked at the weather and said he thought it would be clear. (He had climbed Chirripó over 500 times, so we assumed he could be trusted.) As a result, none of us brought the rain gear that we had so meticulously purchased just for this trip. We headed out under clear skies, looking forward to reaching the top of Costa Rica’s highest peak.
About an hour into the hike, it started raining. Our guide said, “That’s not rain, it’s only sprinkling.” But before long it was pouring. We looked back and our guide was pulling out his rain gear…the same gear we had left at the base camp. The irony was not lost on any of us. Fortunately, I had a flimsy poncho I had carried for about 25 years that I had never used. (Most of my hiking has taken place in the summer in the Sierras and I never needed it.) I pulled on my poncho and we kept trudging up toward the peak.
At this point, we’re not only tired, but we were also wet. Our “waterproof” boots were slogging wet and our clothes were soaked. The trail was even wetter, more slippery and still uphill with a vengeance. I’m not sure why they don’t use switchbacks. I guess a straight-line uphill is the shortest path…but it’s certainly not the easiest.
Have I mentioned the wind? By this time the wind was whipping with gusts of over 30 MPH. It blew the rain into horizontal sheets. Are we having fun yet?
At some point, we reached the final ascent. The last 250 meters were virtually straight up. It required crawling on all fours. We were not hiking, at this point. We were scaling a cliff.
For those who have climbed Half Dome in Yosemite, it was similar to “the cables.” Except, there were not any cables. In addition, the rain was beating down and the wind was blinding as we attempted to find rocks to grip each step up on the “final ascent.” I’m not entirely certain, but I suspect that final climb was one of the more dangerous things I’ve done in many years.
Mike McBride was right behind me. He said later that he kept looking up thinking, “If Steve loses his grip and falls, I’m going down too…and there’s nothing I can do!” Crazy may not be a strong enough word for those final 250 meters.