The Art of Nearly Dying

I thought I’d make my second post about something light-hearted – near-death experiences! I really wanted to talk about why I, along with many other travelers, am a thrill-seeker, or a bit of an adrenaline junkie. I was planning on discussing how living on the edge makes me feel more alive, but the more I thought about the topic, and the more I Googled it, the more I came to realize that it’s an extremely complicated subject.

Obviously a lot of biology is involved. The term adrenaline junkie refers to the addiction some people have to the rush of epinephrine (aka adrenaline), dopamine, and endorphins that are released to the pleasure center of the brain when one is in a fight-or-flight situation. That means that people will put themselves in risky situations on purpose to induce this chemical response. Highly stimulating activities will produce large rewards, neurochemically. I haven’t thoroughly researched the topic, but I did read one article about "brakes" on the autoreceptors controlling the release of dopamine. Apparently low thrill seekers have a lot of brakes, and high thrill seekers have very few brakes. Check the article out here: http://www.sciencentral.com/video/2009/03/11/thrill-seekers-lack-brakes-in-the-brain/

So maybe I enjoy doing a tree pose at the edge of a cliff because I don’t have many of these brakes, but I also read that many adrenaline junkies cause stress in their everyday lives to feel a continuous level of excitement. They often do this by getting into arguments and surrounding themselves with a lot of drama. I definitely do not do that; however now that I think about it, I guess that’s why I travel the way I do. Being in a new place on my own all the time keeps me on high alert and keeps that pleasure center pumping. It’s hard to say if that’s completely true since I've met many solo travelers who are afraid of heights. Like I said, complicated!

Regardless, I would really just like to convey how I feel when I’m in a risky situation, and how I reason myself into tough spots. First off, I don’t have any phobias. I love heights, snakes, spiders, and all that jazz. Yes, I’m shaking like a leaf when I’m about to jump off a cliff because there is a higher chance of hurting myself than if I don’t jump, but I’ll still definitely do it. That fear translates into a feeling of excitement that I can’t live without. That said, I’ll usually only jump provided someone jumps before me to prove that I probably won’t hurt myself. That’s just sound logic. For me it’s hard to understand irrational fears. Why are some people more afraid to fly in a plane than drive in a car when the latter is far more dangerous? Again, this has a lot to do with neurobiology and psychology, which I don’t want to get into. I’m just saying that singing “The Itsy Bitsy Spider” when I was a kid must have conditioned me to think that spiders are cute, and I don’t get how people could possibly hate something that eats mosquitoes!!!

Cool spider near some Shan villages in Burma

So part of why I seek out thrills is probably neurochemically defined, and part of it is psychological in that I can rationalize my activities, and I do risky things to prove to myself that I can. The most rewarding experiences of my life have also been some of the most challenging and death-defying. I have countless examples of these types of experiences, including white water rafting trips, bungee jumps (including a naked bungee jump!), body boarding down rapids, sandboarding, climbing Machu Picchu, crossing (and almost falling off) a makeshift log bridge while passing over a river with rapids and sharp rocks below, swing jumps, sliding down waterfalls, skydiving, cliff jumping, zip-lining, being in a taxi with no seat belt in some countries, and cycling down El Camino de la Muerte, aka “The World’s Most Dangerous Road" or "Death Road,” in Bolivia. 

The bridge I almost fell off of on our trek to Machu Picchu

Sliding down a waterfall outside of Pai, Thailand

Post Card Corner on Death Road, Bolivia

Sandboarding in Huacachina, Peru

Rappelling down waterfalls in La Fortuna, Costa Rica in 2008

I had to psych myself up to do each one of these things, and I am so satisfied that I did them. I could tell you the full story of all of those events and more, but I really want to go into detail about my most significant thrilling experience. It’s a story that I’ve wanted to share for a while because it reminds me of the power of mind over matter, and the importance of opening myself up to new experiences. I’m going to tell you about the time I climbed Cotopaxi, a glaciated volcano in Ecuador.

(Bear with me, this is a bit long-winded!)

Cotopaxi is allegedly the “most symmetrical volcano in the world,” and it’s really freaking beautiful. It is located just south of Quito, has one of the few equatorial glaciers in the world, and is one of the highest active volcanoes in the world. The peak of Cotopaxi is 5,897 masl. The sheer altitude of it is the most significant challenge of climbing it, especially for someone who hasn’t acclimatized, like I hadn’t! Altitude sickness usually occurs above 2,400 metres, and can manifest itself in many forms, including fatigue, dizziness, nausea, headache, and more severely, pulmonary and cerebral edema. Just getting from the carpark (4600 m) to the base camp (4810 m) took me between half an hour and an hour, depending on how hard I pushed myself and how much like death I wanted to feel.

View of Cotopaxi in the morning from the Secret Garden Hostel (photo credit: Noah)

Because Cotopaxi is glaciated, making it to the top involves using an ice axe, wearing a helmet and crampons, and being tied to other people by rope. Glaciers have crevasses (deep cracks) in them, which ups the danger factor of climbing Cotopaxi, but in general it is considered a pretty straightforward climb. On average it takes about six hours to get from the base camp (aka Refugio José Ribas) to the summit, and it is climbed in the middle of the night.

The reason I climbed Cotopaxi was because my travel buddy, Noah, wanted to do it. I hadn’t even heard of Cotopaxi a week prior to climbing it, and after I did hear about it I was terrified of attempting the climb. I had barely spent any time at elevation beforehand, and I had certainly never climbed something like that before. Nevertheless, we made our way into the mountains and spent the few days leading up to the climb at the best hostel I have ever stayed in: Secret Garden Cotopaxi (http://secretgardencotopaxi.com/). It’s gorgeous all around there (too bad my camera broke before we went!), they had some great staff, and because there is no internet and nowhere to go in the mountains, everyone in the hostel ate meals together and enjoyed each other’s company completely. During those few days we mountain biked down the base of Cotopaxi (holy balls that was fun!), went on a river hike in the middle of a hail storm (our guide Scotty was struck by lightening when we got back! Don’t worry, he was fine), and climbed Pasochoa (an extinct volcano that’s 4,200 masl). All of those activities were ridiculously fun, but also warned me of how difficult climbing Cotopaxi would be. I was really tired and experienced shortness of breath a lot. I also kept meeting people who either didn’t make it to the top when they attempted the summit, or told me that it was the hardest thing they ever did. We spent some time in the Refugio before our mountain bike ride, and a couple of experienced climbers told us that we shouldn’t attempt the climb. They told us how much they had trained for it, which scared the shit out of me since I hadn’t trained at all. I was pretty convinced not to climb after that, but Noah had a completely different reaction than I did and was all the more determined to make it to the top. He convinced me to do it again, and I fully committed myself to going.

Secret Garden Hostel Cotopaxi (photo credit: Noah)

About to cycle down the base of Cotopaxi in our sweet new hats (photo credit: Noah) 

River hike in a hail storm (photo credit: Noah) 

At the highest peak of Pasochoa! (photo credit: Jesse)

The day of the climb I was somewhere between hyperventilating and peeing my pants when we got picked up by our guides to go. There were four of us in the same group: Jesse – a Brit who I believe worked as a sort of wilderness guide in Russia, Bruno – a surprisingly fit sixty something year old from Switzerland who was cycling from L.A. to Argentina, Noah – an awesome Brit who I had been travelling with for a month already, and myself. We would be going up in two groups: Bruno and Jesse with one guide, and Noah and myself with another. We had a short training session, ate a pretty shoddy dinner at 6 pm at the Refugio, and were then told to go to sleep until midnight. The Refugio was beyond freezing, and sleeping in a room filled with 3-level bunk beds and grizzly old men is not as glamorous as it sounds. I think I drifted off to sleep for about an hour and then woke myself up because I covered my face with my sleeping bag and couldn't breathe. At midnight all the groups attempting the climb were ready to go, but our guides told us we might have to cancel the trip because it had just snowed. The fresh snow apparently created dangerous climbing conditions, and we were to wait a bit to see if things were safe. I was partially upset because I was about to lose all the money I paid for the experience, but I mostly felt relieved that I wouldn't have to put my body through hell and possibly endure the embarrassment of not making it to the top. Fortunately, at 2 am they cleared us for climbing, and we set off!

Base camp (photo credit: Noah) 

Where we "slept" before our climb (photo credit: Noah) 

The first hour of the climb was horrible. I felt sick to my stomach the entire time and I decided that I wasn't even going to attempt making it to the summit. My goal was to reach the glacier (5000 m), and then turn back. I told myself I would be happy with that, but when we got to the glacier our guide asked if I wanted to quit and something inside of me said no. I took off a layer of clothing because it turned out I was overheating, and that was causing most of my nausea. I also turned on my iPod and the Proclaimers’ “500 Miles” came on. All of a sudden I had a renewed vigour and was ready to march on.

All I can really say about the next five hours is that I felt like crap the entire time. I was trying to appreciate the beauty of the night sky and enjoy the freshest air that I had ever breathed, but I had to keep stopping to catch my breath and it was difficult to ignore the pain I felt all over. I kept a steady rhythm of right foot, left foot, axe, while I climbed. Being in the middle of our three person group, I could feel tension on the rope from our guide up front, and Noah behind me the whole time. Somehow, every time our guide asked if I wanted to turn back I managed to say no and keep going. Because we started late, and because we were one of the slower groups, the sun was already up as we approached the summit. I remember that at one point near the end there was a 60 degree incline that was covered in powdery snow that I could barely get up. I felt like crying, but I was past the point of no return so I kept at it until I got over that point. I was so tired that I could barely make it two steps without needing a break when our guide told us there was only half an hour left. To me that seemed like the longest amount of time in the world, but I got back up and kept going. Turns out our guide was tricking us and next thing I knew we were at the top!

The moment I realized we had summited the volcano was one of the best moments of my life. The joy that flowed through me made the hellish six hours it took to get up worth it. There were already quite a few people at the top, as we were some of the last to make it (not by much!), so we joined everyone and looked around in wonder. I was the only woman who made it all the way up that day, and most of the people up there were serious climbers, or had done a training course before going up. The pride I felt in myself combined with the beauty surrounding me is something I will never forget. The sky was a ridiculous blue, and you could see fantastic clouds and volcanoes all around us in the distance. One of the most amazing things was looking into the crater of the volcano, and smelling the sulphur from it. It made me really appreciate where I was and what I had achieved. We saw a double (possibly triple) rainbow arching over the shadow of the volcano, and I was like, “Ooooh myyy gooodd! Double rainbow all the way across the sky!!!” I wanted to do a cartwheel in glee, but I was still wearing all my gear and gravity felt so strong up there that I wouldn’t have been able to lift my feet off the ground if I tried.

Group picture at the top!!! (photo credit: Noah) 

Crater (photo credit: Noah)

Looking satisfied! (photo credit: Noah) 

The closest I came to doing a cartwheel (photo credit: Noah) 

Then the volcano erupted! We all ran or our lives and I made it through the ensuing avalanche by the skin of my teeth!                                                

Just kidding! The last time Cotopaxi erupted was in 1940.

What really happened was that we stayed at the top for about half an hour before we had to begin the descent back to the Refugio. For some people going down was harder than going up, but I found going down much easier. And by much easier I mean ridiculously hard. At this point we were all completely exhausted. Having pretty much not slept in over 24 hours and enduring the effects of altitude sickness, I was feeling like a piece of poo on a hot summer’s day. The glacier shone in the sunlight and my eyes were burning behind my cheap sunglasses. The snow was melting and sticking to my crampons, making it really hard not to fall over all the time. We would have slid down on our bums, but you can’t do that on a glacier due to the crazy deep crevasses everywhere.

On the way down (photo credit: Noah) 

One of the best parts occurred on the way down. There was only one point on the whole climb that we had to clip ourselves to a fixed rope in the ice because we had to traverse a very narrow ridge, and slipping would mean falling down a sheer drop to our death. Going up I had no problem with this part, but on the way down I had just clipped myself to the rope when I slipped! Noah is afraid of heights so when he looked back and saw me dangling there I think he almost had a heart attack haha. Our guide pulled me up by the rope and I made it over safely. I gotta say, that was one of the most thrilling experiences ever!!!

We slowly continued down, minding the vomit everywhere that we hadn’t seen during the night. We got to slide down the very last bit that wasn’t covered by the glacier, and when we finally made it back to base camp at around 11:30 am, I felt my body shutting down. Upon the advice of everyone else, I forced myself to eat to help my body recover, but I really just felt like lying down and going to sleep. Noah and I made the call to immediately get out of the mountains and hop on a bus to Baños, another town in Ecuador, instead of stay another night at the hostel – probably to save money, as we were cheap backpackers! It was a bumpy and crowded 3 hour bus ride, and I hurt absolutely everywhere. I’m pretty sure I had a fever and I was finding it hard to remember why I put my body through so much agony; however once we reached our destination I took an amazing shower, and it all came rushing back to me. I made it!!! I had reached the summit of Cotopaxi!

So to sum everything up, climbing Cotopaxi was one of the best things I’ve ever done, and I did it on a whim. It proved to me that I can accomplish anything I put my mind to. Who knows what else is in store if I keep myself open to new and challenging experiences!? Some people may say that engaging in risky behavior for the thrills is crazy. I say there are many reasons to look death in the eye and laugh. I know there are legitimate reasons why other people are more averse to risk and pushing themselves outside of their comfort zone, but I think those people should challenge themselves daily in their own way; even if that just means stepping on the glass floor of the CN Tower, or talking to a random person on the subway. I believe in taking calculated risks because they are the spice of life. I’m not going to look back on my life when I’m older and think, “Gosh darnit! I wish I had gotten a good night’s sleep that one time, or stayed home and watched TV that other day instead of dancing all night with a bunch of strangers and climbing a volcano.” I plan on living my life so that I can die happy at any moment. So far so good. I can’t wait to see what tomorrow has in store!