Living with Locational ADD...: TIG!

OG's Jay & Ben in front of Santiaguito

My return to Guatemala began with a whirl wind journey from Mexico City where I had been hunkered down for a week in June to Tapachula by air, over the Tecun Uman border by bicycle and finally onto a Chicken bus destined for my old stompin’ grounds, Xela. There I spent a couple of days catching up with old friends and meeting one or two new ones before heading down to Antigua to hook up with Jay, my Operation Groundswell (OG) colleague and co-trip-leader to begin a little more than two weeks of in-country preparations affectionately known as pre-con. We visited communities across Guatemala to finalize operational logistics (transport, accommodations, activities, and volunteer placements) for this summer’s OG Guatemala program.

OG Guatemala 2011

Tired after spending 10 days on buses of one sort or another, Jay and I decided to stretch our legs and tackle an old nemesis of mine, Volcan Santiaguito. Central America’s most active volcano almost got the better of me in 2007, but a maasive eruption back in February had apparently ruined my old campsite and ravaged the iconic crater resulting in its steady bleeding of lava down its backside. Excited to see my bruised and battered foe, we convinced our new friend, Anna, to join us and Kaqchikel guide, Felix, for the 2 day trek.

The Crew

The 18 km “path” to Santiaguito begins with a long climb, followed by bushwhacking through the brambles, descending a slippery watershed, criss-crossing a rocky floodplain, and finally scrambling up mossy volcanic boulders to the mirador. In good weather, the trail is no walk in the park; in rain, it’s a downright humbling experience. Falls were frequent, and were rated on a scale of 1-10 (1 hand down=1 point, 2 hands=2 points, on your ass=3 points, style points were also assessed in good figure skating fashion). Anna, after a couple of choice performances, resorted to wholly new and innovative method of descending the watershed that was not altogether flattering but, I must admit, rather effective. Reaching the sub-summit campsite at dusk and in torrential rain, we were forced to take refuge in a steady stream of water which we posthumously named the Rio Tenta. After a cozy night of get to know your neighbour, we all emerged relatively unscathed to complete the climb and view the Santiaguito’s crater and watch it huff, puff, gurgle, spit, and drool.