Concepción, Nicaragua, Dec 2012

My husband, Sergey, and I got up at 4 a.m. Our breakfast was leftover pizza from the last night’s dinner. I was on edge and could barely swallow a cold slimy slice of pizza.

Our guide, Luis, met us at the hotel at 4.45 a.m. and we walked to a bus stop. The first morning bus that went to the trailhead came at 5.15 a.m.

Besides us, there were two men on the bus who too were clearly going to Concepción. Both were in early 20es and fit. One man was Asian; the other was fair-skinned and looked European. Our guides had a quick chat and Luis told us that these two were actually Americans. They spoke Spanish and hired a Spanish-speaking guide which was cheaper.

The Asian guy sat with an expressionless face as if he did not care where he was going. The Caucasian young man studied Sergey and me for a few moments, then smiled and turned away. We did not give the impression of being mountain climbers. He probably pictured us far behind him on the trail in his mind.

The bus ride was 15 minutes. At 5.30 a.m. we were at the trailhead. It began as a flat and wide road that went through a small village. We walked briskly together until the other group stopped. Their guide pointed at a tree and started explaining something. Sergey warned our guide Luis beforehand to save all his explanations for the return trip. Our first and foremost goal was the climb; everything else like learning about the environment was extras and it could wait.

The three of us continued walking. Soon, the road was over; it turned into a steep and narrow trail as we entered the jungle. The trail had signs at every 100 vertical meters (~ 300 ft). We paused at these signs for 2-3 minutes, mostly for me, so I could take a sip of water, and resumed our climb. In 2 hours, we were above the treeline and reached the midpoint. I expected the other group to catch up with us by then but they were nowhere to be seen.

It was cloudy and we could not enjoy the view. My husband mumbled something about the wasted day yesterday when the visibility was good. We got over a small saddle and suddenly were hit with a strong wind. Luis suggested turning back. Sergey did not want to hear that.

The clouds protected us from the blazing sun, the wind was rather chilly but we were dripping with sweat. The slope became very steep, it was all volcanic ash and nothing else. The ash pebbles were unstable; they slid from under our feet threatening to take us down with them. The overwhelming smell of sulfur and fumaroles made me think of hell.

The wind strengthened so badly that it became impossible to stand upright. We got down on all four and crawled up. Luis again said that we should turn back because it was too dangerous to continue; only this time he sounded serious. My husband yelled that he would never do that. I kept quiet; nobody asked for my opinion anyway as if I had not been there.

We lay pressing our bodies against the ash. I was not heavy enough and Sergey had to hold me down to prevent me from literally being blown off the face of the earth. My glasses were covered with a thick layer of volcanic dust; I could not see anything in them. We put the glasses and our hats into the backpack, hid it under a rock and kept crawling up.

Luis probably thought that we were crazy but he did not make another attempt to stop us. We waited for a break between wind gusts, made a dash upslope for a few feet and lay down again. Moving in such manner, we got to the crater at 9.30 a.m., i.e. 4 hours after we started to climb.

We could not see what was inside Concepción’s crater. However, the clouds that were present all the time while we were going up, suddenly dissipated as if by magic and the entire island became visible.

Concepción is an active volcano. Last time it erupted in 2010. The volcano constantly spews ash and small rocks. The latter accelerated by the strong wind hit hard our unprotected heads and backs. When we were done with taking pictures Luis urged us to get going.

Descending from Concepción was not much easier than climbing it. The ash gave way under the feet. We were more skidding down rather than walking until we got lower where the slope was more stable.

The wind gradually died down and no longer was a problem. When we were halfway back to the midpoint the other climbing party appeared above the treeline. I almost forgot about them. We walked toward each other until we met and our guides again had a quick conversation in Spanish. The Asian guy displayed no emotions as before, the Caucasian had an embarrassed look – they were about 2 hours behind us.

Our guide Luis, 21, was a university student and studied to become an English and French teacher.  It was his school break and Luis returned to his native Ometepe to make some money by taking tourists to Concepción. Luis was well-educated and knowledgeable. We discussed with him various subjects from history to politics while going down. Luis told us a lot of interesting facts about Nicaragua.

We returned to the American hotel tired and dirty. I was glad that Simone, the hotel owner, installed hot showers in the rooms. It took me a whole hour to wash my hair covered with ash. I found that tiny pebbles got embedded into my scalp and I had a hard time prying them out of it with my finger nails.

Above all, there was a sense of achievement. So many people including my husband said that climbing Concepción was too tough. Sure, it was not easy but it did not feel tougher than climbing a 14-er in Colorado.