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The Haba Bean & El Pico de Orizaba

Diane Jochimsen

Tuesday, Nov. 27,2001, 3:30 P.M. Arrived in Mexico City. We're finally here in Mexico traveling on our way through Mexico City to Tlachichuca.

My memories of Mexico City, when I shut my eyes, are of clothes hanging on wash lines—wherever a wash line could be strung. Mike C. kept remarking on the electrical wiring and on the constant ‘building in progress’. In our ride through the city, we saw very few buildings more than two stories in height. Shops were in the median and on both sides of the major highway with people hawking their wares whenever our vehicle was stopped for a traffic signal. A young youth washed the windows of our van, at the protest of our driver, and then asked for money. He got none, he gestured with his palms up/palms down and proceeded to wash the next stopped vehicle’s window. Mike B. says whenever he thinks of Mexico City he remembers the plane flying into the city, looking out the plane window and seeing a thick haze/smog from the city stacked against the mountains. Jim remembers flying into Mexico City, looking out the plane window, and seeing the city snuggled between all of the volcanic mountains. He was surprised that such a large city was amidst all these big mountains. Gee, you can sure figure out who was thinking of mountains.

The trip to Tlachichuca, a city of 6,000, took us four hours. My butt hurt from all the plane and car riding. The district is also called Talachichuca and is comprised of several communities of approximately 20,000. We saw small plots of land and a few times we saw something that appeared as white upside down cones, almost like pyramids with a hole near the top and an igloo hole at the bottom. We learned that these were once used to store corn bought from the locals by the government in an unsuccessful project, whose eventual intention was to sell the corn back to the locals. We arrived in the middle of the corn harvest season. People were cutting the corn by hand and making corn ‘silos’ by stacking them together like a tepee. They then shucked the corn by hand and put the shucked corn in sacks. From there the ears went to their homes to be dried on roofs, cement slabs, or the like with the kernels then removed by hand.

We stayed in the Reyes bunkhouse, which can hold about 20 climbers. The bunkhouse was once an old soap-making factory. The current owner is a surgeon who returned to his native residence to take over the family business from his elderly father. Starting with the grandfather in the early 1940's, the family has a history of catering to climbers. Settled in our bunk beds late in the evening, all we heard were dogs; the most forceful sound piercing the night. Early morning, church bells ringing and ringing and ringing; then the fireworks started. Fireworks celebrate life, death, anniversaries, and birthdays—hmm, maybe the dogs weren’t so bad.

At 9 A.M., we eat breakfast, cooked by Lucinda. Her breads are freshly made and melt in our month. I asked Lucinda if she had taken a culinary course because her meals were so tasteful and varied. Her translated reply "Si, I was married for over 40 years." After breakfast, it is suggested that we hike, to acclimatize for our trip, to some crosses up on the hill.

Our hike took us to the outskirts of town above the shrine of our Lady of Guadeloupe. We walked approximately one-half mile on the road, then up the trail to the shrine and the first set of crosses. Then up some more on the trail to the next set of crosses. Someone suggested that we go to the third set of crosses, a traverse on a ledge, a cactus scramble down and then a cactus scramble up again. A little exposure, but no one reached for a plant-belay nor did we get our butts too low. We were scheduled to be back for lunch at one, but we were looky-lous. We had a great view of El Pico de Orizaba, beautiful with its snow-capped top. The glacier is receding, as all the glaciers in the world seem to be. From our view, the tapestry of farmland was a revelation. We didn't find one farmer with a tractor; all were using horses or mules. A few fields were being tilled. We saw two squares of bright green in the distance and also a few scattered communities. Our view also showed us that the Catholic Church is the center of Talachichuca. Does anyone here belong to another religion?

And we saw the evil of plastic. We all agreed that plastic should be banned worldwide or have a worldwide deposit-refund system. We debated how many centuries would pass before the plastic will decompose. We reminded ourselves that this is a third-world country and the wealth and technology are not as advanced. Their garbage disposal is an arroyo and they will wait for the rains to dispose of the garbage. But an old gentleman driving his donkey and wagon brightened our day. With hand gestures, we asked his permission to take his picture. He was nodding and all smiles.

Mike B. found it mind boggling that subsistence farming was so wide spread. And here all we thought we were going to do when we went to Mexico was climb. Now, we are philosophers, biologists, historians…

We were looking to exchange some of our American currency to purchase a few extra supplies but found no bank in town. A new bank was built a few years back, as the people in the town had to travel to a village several miles away to do their banking. But the townsfolk preferred to continue that practice and so the new bank closed.

Villa Hidalgo, 11,150'; the highest village in Mexico was our most awesome site traveling up the road on our way to our next acclimatization stop; a spot in the forest. We are to stay the night, November 29, in our tents. To get here, we traveled through farmland. The farming changed from all corn to haba beans and corn. Haba beans are used to make refried beans. The other major difference that we noticed is that the village of Hidalgo's houses are all built of wood in comparison to concrete and stone in the lower altitudes. Our driver stops here to pick up vegetables. He said the land is very fertile and grows carrots, potatoes and other vegetables quite well. We were beginning to see more sheep herds along with their owners. The headers were outside the village tending to their flock. We were dropped off about the 12,000' level in the middle of the forest; which, according to our map, is Pico de Orizaba National Park. We set up our tents and decided to take a hike up above the tree line to get a better view of the mountain. On our way, Mike C. said, "look, moose that are black and white". Actually, we had a view of a herd of Holstein and Jerseys, approximately 20 cattle. They seemed unattended and were not bothered with our presence. As we hiked up the road, three different vehicles passed us going down. We appeared to be on a crossroads from a village on the other side of the mountain. On the hike, all of us remarked and noted the same thing, the absence of young seedling trees and immature trees. We later learned from a biologist, who was climbing, that the cows eat the seedlings; which have more nutrition than other vegetation at this altitude. The government is trying to educate the population, but without much success. The forest was more open than what we'd call a forest in Washington and the grass was spiky and long. Several times we saw small fields of flowers that look like lupine, but the flowers were not in bloom and it is hard to identify them.

The sun descends quickly and darkness is upon us. At 5:20 PM we started boiling water. A little after six, we are eating by a full bright moon. We can see down the valley to the west of us. To me, the villages look as if they were terraced and at our level. Then Mike C. tells me to look again. That the villages are between hills and it is creating an illusion. And Mike B. tells me they can't be as high as us; we've already passed the highest village in N. America. Jim chuckles at my "illusion" and agrees. We talk about what it would be like to live so high; we note that all seem to have electricity.

Lying in bed, actually sleeping bag/tent the next morning, I was recalling a conversation from last evening. Jim and Mike B. were talking about taking vacations in Mexico. When they mentioned to people that they were going to Mexico to climb a mountain, people were surprised; they did not realize that Mexico had mountains, let alone large volcanic mountains. They thought of Mexico as beaches, sun, relaxing. I guess we have done the relaxing portion; we retired last evening an hour after sunset (7:30 or so), read for approximately an hour and it's currently 7:30 AM and we're just starting to stir.

The people we've met to date are absolutely wonderful. No one misses a chance to say "Buenos dias". People seem happy and contented.

Alas, I've never mentioned how the four of us got together for this trip. We owe Jim one big thanks. As I recall the story: A few years ago, he guided a group of three men from out of state up Mt. Rainer for Cascade Crags. After a successful trip, the men asked them if he would guide them up El Pico de Orizaba. Jim said he could not guide out of the country but would gladly put the trip together if they would pay for his way. Jim gathered all the pertinent information for the trip; but the trip never came to pass due to some logistical problems with the cliental. So there is this trip on Jim's shelf for the next couple of years begging to be done. Jim asks Mike B. this summer and another friend; the other friend cannot go. Mike B. suggests Mike C. Jim calls Mike C. and Mike C. states "you know, if you get one of us, you get both of us". Now we are a group of four.

About us:

Jim Civey is 55 and a veterinarian. To train for the trip, Jim did the stair master, the death stairs of Seattle, hiked up Mt. Pilchuck six weeks before the trip with 35-40 pounds and did Camp Muir with us as a group. He is our un-official trip/group organizer. He completed all the trip arrangements; coordinated dates; arranged lodging. Thank you Jim.

Mike Bueler is 56 and a farmer by trade. To train for the trip, Mike did aerobics, the stair master and gravitron (sic) at the Snohomish Fitness Center (SFC). He hiked up Mt. Pilchuck, Mt Dickerman, Dirty Face Peak and Camp Muir with us as a group. For the Mt. Pilchuck trip, he led a group from the SFC. He is our un-official trip trainer. He checked in with everyone weekly to be sure they were "getting in shape for the trip". He also coordinated our group training events. Thank you Mike B.

Mike Conner is an electrician by trade and is 60. But, Mike C. says he's not one of those sissy in-door guys. His job probably requires the most physically activity of the group. He says he doesn't train; but he was required to accompany his wife, me, up Dirty Face Peak two times, Mt. Dickerman in the rain and Camp Muir with the group. He is our un-official group photographer. Using a digital camera, he later completed a full slide show via the computer of our trip. Thank you Mike C.

That leaves me, Diane Jochimsen. I am 53 and a computer systems analyst. My job is probably the least physical of the group. I live three miles from my work office and to train for the trip; once a week I'd walk into work with some weight in a pack. But, I cheated walking home by dumping my weight, which was water, out in the bathroom sink at the office. I hiked up Dirty Face peak two times, Mt. Dickerman in the rain and Camp Muir with the group. I became the group un-official journalist. That is how this writing came to be.

We all, (part of Mike C's job) walk 3-4 miles once or twice a week, but again, this is part of our life styles and we did not consider that as part of the training for the trip.

Back to our trip: We decide that two of us will hike up to the Piedra Grande Hut earlier in the morning. The other two will stay behind to wait for the Reye's bus to pick up our heavier things like the tents and sleeping bags. The two left behind will then hike up after the bus pickup, which would be around mid-afternoon. We are concerned about bandios. Mike C. and I leave at 10:45; Mike C. is taking pictures with his digital camera and we figure it will take us longer. About mid-way up to the huts, we meet four people coming down the trail. Two are carrying ice axes but the older man is wearing flip-flops. In our limit gesturing and understanding of Spanish, we learn they have come from the huts. Hmm; flip-flops. Mike finds wild flowers at the very end of their bloom and is excited to see something so high and late in the year; no cows today. Then we see the hut; great!

The huts are at 14,000'. There are several people already staying in the huts. A party of seven and a party of one have reached the summit today. A party of three had to turn back due to one member getting altitude sickness. After the summited parties have left, we talk to an older gentleman from Texas who is here early to acclimatize. He is with a friend, a biologist who is 26 and originally from somewhere near the area. We mention the men we met on the trail. The younger man tells us they are the "desperados" of the area; looking for things left behind while people try for El Pico de Orizaba's summit.

The fog is rolling in early this evening. Jim and Mike B. arrived around four and they could not see the trail up the mountain; Mike C and I were able to see the trail when we had arrived. We decide to set up our tents; the huts fill with gas fumes from people cooking inside. Also, they appear to be noisy and our tents seem cleaner. From the men we talked to earlier, we learn that seven to ten people are joining their party. The Reyes have also dropped off two parties of two. And there is another party of three men that have just arrived. The huts are filling to the limit and we are glad that we made the decision to use our 4-season tents.

We have retired early this evening six/six-thirty; it is November 30th. The clouds have hidden the sun and the wind was blowing earlier; it always seems to make a person colder in the mountains when the wind blows. We learn from one of the groups that the weather forecast for the next couple of days predicts that a front is coming in from the coast. Hopefully it will have blown through by the time we are making our bid for the summit.

Rafael and Jay Botter. These are two of the people I had met the night before. It is Saturday and I am over at the large Piedra Grande Hut talking with them. They are planning to climb this evening. Our group's plan is to scope out the first part of the route today and go for the summit tomorrow evening. Mike C. and I take a walk following the aqua duct down the hill just to see where it goes. Turns out it goes into a ditch that is slowly becoming a ravine. There are two aqua ducts; one starts at approximately 500', the other 750' up from the huts. One of the aqua ducts has long since bit the dust and is rubble in places. We find out that this 'older' one was built approximately 20 years ago. Our facts are obtained from the local people and might not be accurate.

About 10:45 we start up the trail. Climbers have reported that the trail becomes bad scree; our group comments "if climbers think this is bad scree; they should just come to Washington". Both Mikes' have GPS's and are making way points "just in case" for our early morning portion of the summit. We hike up for a couple of hours to the edge of the rock band which connects to the glacier; approximately 16,150'. There is a Spanish couple camping at this level. On the trip down, we meet a group of people who have gone to the 15,000' level. One of the members is a young German woman. She says her group is doing this portion of the hike as a team building exercise. Their group is from Volkswagen in Puebleo. As a side note, she mentions that their plant is the only one that she is aware of making the new beetle. What you learn climbing is sometimes not about climbing.

We were awakened several times during the evening. It turns out that groups of native Mexicans climb the mountain on the weekend; hmm, that makes sense. Two parties have driven down from Texas. Music plays, lots of talking, laughing. The music finally quits a tad after mid-night; all must have left to go climbing.

Getting up this morning, we see several parties near the summit. Jim says he's sure glad we're near the end of this aclimization stuff. Mike C. says it's going to be a long day. Then, Mike C. comes down with a stomach/intestine bug. We think it is something he caught in Washington before we left; no one else is sick. Jim, now our un-official doctor, has been doctoring him all day. We've decided to delay the climb one day hoping Mike C. gets better. We spend the day talking to people who have summitted and talking to people who had to turn around due to altitude or conditioning problems. Mike B., Jim and I play hearts to pass the rest of the day. Mike B. wins and Jim says he is tired of Mike winning; he always won when they were on Denali.

The wind is blowing, really blowing this evening. Pedro, from the Reyes, has come to watch our gear and will spend the night even though we have decided against going. He is able to tell us quite a bit of the mountain history; how much the glacier has disappeared in the last 20 years. When he first climbed it, the snow level was at the huts. The wind is still blowing very hard the next morning when we get up. I cannot get the camp stove lit and Pedro helps me move it behind several bigger rocks. Mike C. is still resting but hurray, he has gotten out of the tent today and is walking! Mike B., Jim and I again play hearts to pass the time — Mike B. looses today.

Did I tell you that we take our pulse every day to figure how we are adjusting to the altitude? Mike C.'s is usually near is age and was close to 100 yesterday; yah, we decide he really was sick. Today, it is down around 80. Mine has yet to hit over 60; Mike B questions: "when are you ever going to get excited about this climb?". Jim's and Mike B's stay in the low 70's. We are all anxious/excited … tonight is the night.

Wake up call is at 12:30 AM for tomorrow December 4th. We've set our watches for 00:30 AM and sure enough the watches work. We do the first 1,500', the moraine, in approximately 80 minutes. Then we traverse up and to the left to where we had stopped the day of our scouting the climb. We are now at the mixed ice and rock portion and need to put on our crampons. It, at one time, was the snout of the glacier. Due to the darkness of the hour, even though the moon is out, we end up doing a mixed rock and ice portion of 300' of thin ice on rock. We have gotten a tad off-route in the dark and as Mike B. later commented "the climbing got a little dicey". We had decided the day before that we wouldn't need the GPS.

We are on the second moraine; this requires removing our crampons and hiking a few hundred feet before we get to the toe of the glacier at approximately 16,000'. The sun is just about to start. We have chosen the right day, no wind today and the sun is coming up; all appearances show that it will be a beautiful day. Mike B. made a comment on Monday, "You never know what will happen tomorrow; we'll just handle it one thing at a time." We have started to travel very slow; other groups are passing us and moving ahead. Jim is in the lead, then Mike B., Diane, Mike C. We are about one-third of the way up the glacier when Mike C. yells "Diane, what the F…, I can't keep taking 3 steps for Jim's 2, and Bueler isn't any better than you! Look at your loops of rope". I and Mike B. have about fifteen feet of rope that is not taunt. Oops, something is going wrong. Usually Jim sets a quicker pace. At a rest stop several minutes later, Mike B remarks, "do you know that it is now 9:30, we probably won't summit until close to noon". Mike C. says, "the truck won't leave until their last climber is off the mountain". The Reyes family has the commitment to make sure all their climbers, who say they are planning to summit, are down the mountain before they leave. That says it to all of us; we will summit. Jim is in the middle of an asthma attack; he later compared it to being mugged. But he wants to continue and focuses on 2, 3, 4 breaths per step and the thought that we can do this. He found it frustrating that he forgot the medicine and said it was a dramatic message for him. Mike B. says he spent the passing time figuring how many steps we take per minute and calculated in his mind when we'd summit. No wonder he always wins at cards with all that math in his head. I start counting to 100 for each step. Figured a step was a foot; thought about our goal "every one will summit". Feeling good about how we are a team. Mike C. says all he thought about or so he says was "4 F…ing breaths and a step". He said, "couldn't have gone any faster anyway, after being sick yesterday".

We are at the crater rim and the guys have set down their packs, untied from the rope and head off for the summit and it is noon. The team has made the summit of Pico de Orizaba 18,405' — the third highest peak in North America!