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| October 22 |
 Wind generators, solar panels, converters, walkie-talkies, computers. I’m beginning to think we could erect our own enclave up here at base camp. We struggled all morning in erecting our little empire in the sun. The sky was deep cerulean, and the full brunt of the sun was hitting the solar panels. The wind pushes the blades of the generator incessantly. By noon we were set up, but not without the surgeon’s touch of John Lochow from Bell Sygma. |
| “You don’t work for a telephone company for nothing,” I told him. He agreed. To connect our power cables to the inverter, John delicately spliced the wires, bypassing a lethargic DC adapter. The result was a direct feed into the battery from the inverter. I could see the LED lights flashing and the satellite modem charging. We were now wired. |
 Afterwards, I ventured solo to the summit with the hope of reaching José and his students, Orlando and Jimmy. I toted an ice ax, water, cameras, and a goretex shell. The climb was fierce and dangerous—a two hour trek up loose volcanic scree. In places, the ridge narrowed to an uncomfortable bridge. Rocks gave way beneath me. Soon I was in snow and ice. |
 At the top, I was exhausted and my water supply gone. High camp was below and on a ridge east of my position was José, Jimmy, and Orlando working at the platform. The panorama up there beckons dreams. Ice fields, knobbed ridges, misty sunshine, bitter cold. I put on my jacket and decided to head back down before night. I can see José and the others yelling out to me in what I perceived as the usual jest. “Mi corazón,” I yelled, meaning my heart, which was pounding. |
 Before I could go back down, Jimmy scampered over and promptly stopped me. He told me another way down was less dangerous than the way I came up. No problems here. We followed the ridge over to the platform, where José and Orlando were picking at the frozen ground. They refreshed me with tea, crackers, and marmalade. I watched them dig, and after a restbit Ignacio, Carlos, Arcadio, and Marco guided me down a steep slope of sand and loose gravel. We were back in forty minutes. |
| I supped again with the boys. Everyone seemed a bit on the tired side, myself included. Hindsight being infallible, I probably would not have gone. The images, though, the chance to unearth an artifact, in part justifies my lack of good sense. Tomorrow I’ll return to the summit with Johan and the others. And the next day, I’ll go to high camp, hopefully for good. |
Yancey Hall
nationalgeographic.com