On May 18, 2024, we were the highest people in Mexico! That’s right folks, over 18,000 feet (5500 meters in the sky) we were on the Jamapa glacier, just a 200 meters from the summit of Pico de Orizaba. We couldn’t reach the summit that day but neither could anyone, due to the sketchy ice conditions on the glacier. To have a smooth summit experience and enjoy this adventure, keep on reading below!
Skip to...
BACKGROUND
Citlaltépetl - “star mountain” in nahuatl - aka Pico de Orizaba, is the tallest volcano in North America and third tallest peak on the continent after Denali (Alaska) and Mount Logan (Canada). Orizaba is considered a dormant volcano and therefore safe to climb, unlike the second tallest mountain in Mexico (Popocatépetl volcano), which is actively exploding.
Where did the idea to conquer such a mountain come from? Well, I have certainly have caught quite the mountaineering bug since 2020, and every time a big mountain challenges me and I’m recovered, I’m just left wanting more!
Previously, my boyfriend and I hiked Nevado de Toluca and Iztaccíhuatl volcano in Mexico, both mountains that top out well over the continental US’ highest peak (Mt Whitney, 14,505 ft). After living in Mexico so much time, we knew we couldn’t move away without trying the “mero mero cumbre,” the very peak of the country!
our previous high Mexican peaks together... is this becoming our thing?
PHYSICAL TRAINING
Ooops, or shall I say lack of training thereof. I didn’t exactly train as I should have because 1) we booked this last minute and 2) the current Mexican heat wave gave me very little time to comfortably train and my body has been exhausted! For this mountain, my lack of training definitely affected me, and both Ransom and I experienced altitude sickness as characterized by feeling woozy and having headaches. That being said, AMS (Altitude Mountain Sickness) is known to hit all kinds of athletes in all kinds of situations, but being well trained and acclimatized is one of the best ways to prevent it.
In my past experience, it has worked for me to train for at least 2 weeks by going on hilly runs, doing a couple of runs at interval pace, and doing at least 1-2 prolonged, high altitude hikes in the week of my summit.
My baseline lifestyle includes lots of walking and heavy lifting, so if you have a more sedentary lifestyle OR live at sea level you probably want to start training sooner. Living at 1 mile altitude right now (about 5000 feet), also gives me that advantage and If you are in Mexico City before this trek, you are also at a great height to train.
If you are traveling near Mexico City before your Orizaba trek, I recommend you to go on runs and get some acclimatization hikes in. Ajusco is a hiking area just south of CDMX, or you can travel about 3 hours to Nevado de Toluca or Malinche for a very long day. If you are nervous, you can ask your guide for a training plan. They can often even add in acclimatization days as part of your hiking package.
Ransom and I live nearby an 11,000 foot mountain in central Mexico called Peña de Ñado or Cerro de Pelón which has served as our longer training hike for the last year.
HIRING A GUIDE
After a bit of an unpleasant experience on Iztaccihuatl volcano with another trekking company, we had identified Luis, the lead guide at Rose Adventures, whom we trusted to safely and confidently guide us up Pico de Orizaba.
It turns out, he runs his own mountain trekking company and gave us a great deal on hiking Pico de Orizaba, so we knew we had to do it before the mountain season escaped us. We each paid 5500 pesos which included the roundtrip transport from CDMX, technical equipment like crampons, hiking poles, helmet, and harness, the majority of meals, and obviously the guiding services and personalized photographer from our guide and friend, Luis. (I have read other mountain companies offering triple the price for the same thing. I believe that having an English-speaking guide is significantly more expensive, book more locally when you can). Luis is fantastic and if you reach out on his Instagram or Whatsapp, you can easily get set up in no time.
Mexico’s rainy season is concentrated from the end of May to early October. We did this hike in the middle of May which meant we had among the least snow and ice you can find all year. This affected our ability to summit. Had we waited a few weeks more, we would then be looking at the storm window and I personally don’t want to be the tallest person in Mexico in a lightning storm! So on this particular date, it was Pico or bust for us!
DAY BEFORE THE SUMMIT
Our guide, Luis, picked us up at around 7 AM in Mexico city. This was gonna be a long day. We drove about 3-3.5 hours west, through the states of Mexico, Tlaxcala, and Puebla, to finally arrive to the town of Tlachichuca, one of the main portals to the mountain.
**IF you want to hire a guide directly from the source, you could show up at the Canchola's family hostel in Tlachichuca, run by the most hilarious older man and mountaineer, Don Joaquin and his family. Their hostel is made just for this mountain, so they can arrange everything from your stay the few nights before, the transport to the mountain, gear, food, and guides! Everything can be found on their website, and I highly recommend!*
We arrived at the Canchola's hotel to have a hearty lunch, our last warm meal before the summit. We loved being able to sit and chat in this homey location, surrounded by photos of alpine peaks around the world. From the town, we stocked up on all the food and snacks we would need for the summit -- about 2 L of water each, energy drinks, chocolates, fruit snacks, stuff for sandwiches-- and Don Joaquin himself drove us up to the mountain base camp. This was a wild 2 hours of bumpy dirt roads, so while I tried to catch a little sleep, it wasn't comfy!
Other folks choose to go through Ciudad Serdán as a base instead, where there is another family-run hotel that can arrange your mountain excursion.
BASE CAMP
We arrived at "Refugio de Piedra Grande" to camp out before the northern route to the summit. There is also a shorter, perhaps sketchier route on the southside that has much less snowpack and glaciers. Although we hired a private tour with a guide, I kind of hoped we weren't the only ones to attempt the mountain the next day (while it would be epic to go alone, safety in numbers!) Turns out there was actually a huge group of 22 people between guides and hikers, and they ended up being pretty obnoxious and loud for the whole night and morning. Ooops.
Don Joaquin dropped us off around 3PM and we asked him to come back for us at 1PM the next day, hoping for the best. Piedra Grande has a gorgeous stone building with high ceilings and three stories of bunk beds. It also has tables so you can prep your food, and plenty of space for probably 50 people. A lot more glam than I anticipated, as we were ready for a chilly night bundled in our tents.
For the afternoon, we briefly did an explanation of our gear, how to mount our crampons on our boots with gloves on, and how to self-arrest with our ice axe in case one of us slipped on the glacier. We walked around a bit, took some photos, and even got a sprinkling of rain! But nothing to be concerned about, as high mountains always get afternoon rains. There were no proper bathrooms (just some latrines out of commission), so the wilderness was our toilet.
By 6 PM, we were eating our simple tuna and crackers dinner and winding down for the night. We were lucky that the big group had set up camp outside, so we got the refuge to ourselves to sleep that night. But regardless, some of the guides from the other group talked loudly throughout the night so I didn't really get shuteye until 8PM.
SUMMIT DAY
Up and at 'em at 11:30 PM, we were aiming to start our hike just past midnight.
Luis made us some hot coffee and I drank maybe half a cup, had 3 cookies, half of an applesauce pouch, and that was "breakfast." I felt fine, though really tired. I hadn't slept as much as I wanted during the night, nor did I sleep super well the week leading up because of the hot, hot nights.
But alas, we set foot at about 12:20 AM, trailing right behind the big group of other trekkers. Their pace was really conservative, so we felt totally fine the first two hours, hiking in the dark, with the beckoning shadow of the peak in front of us. This hike was definitely steep and direct, so you get to skip some of the distance that normally builds up over switchbacks. The night was peculiarly warm, so I shed most of my layers right away and was hiking just in my Patagonia fleece.
We had two rest points in the first two hours, at the 1st and 2nd nidos aka a small collection of rocks. Come 3:00 AM, we started hiking into El Laberinto, a section of rocks and boulders that requires careful footing and the occasional use of your arms to climb over a section. This is where the altitude sickness started to kick in. I got really sleepy and just wanted to sit down all the time. Little did I know, Ransom didn't feel good at all (he was just faking his enthusiasm, which I am thankful for, because it helped me keep my morale up). I got pretty dissuaded and was asking to take just too many rests.
Luckily, we then made it to the base of the glacier and around 4:30 AM and admittedly I was being pretty negative and bringing down everybody else's energy, which I apologize for. Cue half of an energy drink and I was amped again, got my crampons and harness on, and was ready to tackle this glacier, in the dark! We also had a light "breakfast," just a little more food to get enough energy for the next portion.
This glacier was steep and only got steeper the higher up we went. In the beginning it was totally fine, just one foot in front of the other, making sure the crampons dug in at the toe, and getting a firm grip with the heel. We tied in myself, Ransom, and Luis, which means that if one person slipped, the other two could catch them by arresting with their crampons and harness.
As first light lightened up the horizon, I had cold wind in my face, was planting one foot in front of the other, and knew Ransom was equally struggling behind me. BUT, I couldn't help but feel so freaking grateful for this moment, to have an expert guide, to witness what remains of this glacier in a rapidly warming world, to be among the highest people in Mexico!
And enough of the marveling, because THEN is when it got just too tricky. Some pro mountaineers had tried to summit several hours earlier than us because they started from a camping spot higher on the mountain. They had just come down and warned our guide and other hikes that they couldn't get to the peak because of the poor, thin ice conditions at the top. Knowing this, our guide was trying to take us through a more roundabout route where the ice and rock might hold up a little better.
Oh yeah, at this point there was an amazing shadow like the one below seen over the horizon. I didn't snap a pic because I was preoccupied hanging onto the glacier for my life!
Unfortunately, at around 6:30 AM, I panicked as the glacier got to 45 degrees, my crampons were still sticking but my ice axe was slipping and I was just imagining the worst. (I should have prepared better mentally and researched more about this glacier, because my reaction definitely isn't safe to have in that position.) The one group of three a few steps in front of us had started to slip over a rocky outcrop and their phone and gloves had gone tumbling down the glacier, so it just added to my fear of slipping and falling. Between my freakout and assessing the conditions and how the other groups were going, we decided this would be our turn around point.
We wouldn't be able to summit Pico de Orizaba today, and that was okay and that was the safe and responsible thing to do. Thanks to Luis and Ransom for helping me calm down in that moment and deciding we would all turn around together. Every other group on the mountain also turned down. No one would summit on May 18.
And so commenced the downhill. Luckily, we had secured our crampons on super well, because climbing down the steep glacier required us to rely fully on our feet and anchor well. Ransom did a fantastic job leading us down the glacier slowly and surely, and until we got to a flatter point could we fully appreciate what we had just attempted and take a mini photo shoot on the glacier. By around 8:00 AM, we were back down to where the glacier ended, could take off all of our harness and crampons, and begin the hike back down.
We made about 3 hours, feeling the heavy weight of the downhill on our knees, relying on our hiking poles, and avoiding any rockslides on the rocky terrain. I observed the little bits of nature around us: at the highest point, only moss, then as we got lower, some little lizards, grass, and wildflowers started to peek out.
By 11:30 AM, we were finally back down at the hut and we all passed OUT for a well-deserved nap. By 1 PM, we were picked up by our trusty ride and did the whole trip back to Mexico City in reverse, arriving around 7:30 PM back in CDMX.
REFLECTIONS
This mountain was significant to my mountaineering experience, as it was the first time I couldn’t summit. A summit is never certain when talking about high mountains, and Pico de Orizaba certainly humbled us this day.
It is a common concept in certain religions or indigenous beliefs to personify elements of nature, water, weather, and mountains, and Pico de Orizaba is no different. On May 18, the mountain did not allow us to summit, and so we will just have to try another time when we feel ready and the mountain is ready for us.
I recognize not everyone will have the time, energy, money, or opportunity to summit mountains like these in their lives, which is why I share my story with the hopes that you might experience some of the wonder that these mountains have given me. Nature always humbles and inspires, puts us in our place, reminds us that everything natural is not something to be conquered by humans. I'm no expert on mountains, but it is possible to have these experiences with a great guide like ours. Thanks for reading our story!
the tallest point in Mexico in the background... but we will have to be back to stand there!
