It was an overwhelming evening up there.
I woke up sick however Martin didn't have
any problems. By the time the rest of the
team joined us I had made a decision not
to continue. I would start my bike down from
where we were.
No mountain is worth seriously risking
one's health and the chance that I'd make
it unscathed to the summit was minimal.
I said goodbye with a heavy heart and sat
in contemplation as my friends continued
their journey.
The ride down was exhausting but truly
special. Completely alone across the
volcanic slopes, I soared towards base camp.
BIKING IN CHILEI was exalted by the beauty of this hostile
environment.
The rest of the team formally started their
ascent to the summit at about midnight with
the temperature hovering around 25 degrees
Celsius. They went up a steep gully, put on
crampons once they hit the snowfield and
made their way up carefully to a ridge. The
boulders around them soon reached the size
of small cars.
They took a short break when the first rays of
sunlight reached them, a brief respite from the
huge blocks of rock that obstructed all points
of orientation.
Martin was the first to reach the summitaround 2pm with the rest following an hour
and a half later. With bikes on their backs
the whole way this was a truly remarkable
achievement. As it was so late there wasn't
much time to take in the glory of the
summit before beginning the ride they were
all here for.
Rocky terrain made the descent impossible
at first and despite being completely
drained they continued to carry their
bikes. The first rideable passage arrived at
the snowfield before a quick rest and the
massive gravel slope, a highlight for Pato,
Frederico and Nico and well worth the
arduous trek up.