Towards the skies

So, here I am... in the lap of the Popo-Iztac Volcanoes. I am jubilant and excited about the prospect of reaching the summit at 5,250 meters in the morning tomorrow.

Reaching here was a fascinating journey. In Cholula, I went around asking the locals how to get to Popo. Nobody had a clue. Just as I was checking out of my hotel determined to walk the 40kms to base camp using only my compass not knowing if I would ever make it there, in a stroke of pure serendipity, my glance was riveted by the image of a man rappelling from the wall of a cave. It was a shabby pamphlet stuffed into a box on the reception of this cheap hostel. It was the brochure of some high altitude mountain guides. A call to these guys changed the course of my travel completely. For a paltry sum of money, they agreed to help me get to base camp and lead the trail to the summit. Delightful!

This way I actually had a chance of getting to the summit which considering my constantly protesting body seemed a distant dream (nevertheless, a dream that I was determined to pursue) especially if I spent most of my energy walking to base camp.

The next 2 days have been filled with some wonderful moments characterized by my rendezvous with people and nature. It was the first time since a long time since I actually got along with people with such ease and I the mountains provided me with the answer. One of the thoughts that struck me on my way up here which I shared with my mountain guide was that it takes a great amount of honesty of spirit to have a love for being in the mountains. This honesty or purity of spirit stems from the fact that in the wilderness you are confronted with an innate magnified reflection of nothing but yourself.

Popo is on a “Level II” alert as I write this. This is the second highest level of volcanic activity. Level III meant evacuation of all neighboring towns, I was told. Climbing was suspended and despite my attempts at convincing my guide, he politely refused to take me up there telling me the story of a man who almost died trying to get up there only a month ago. What he did not realize was that that did not work as a deterrent in my case. Nevertheless, Popo flanks another volcano called Iztachuatl which is 50 meters lower in altitude.

Naked, dangerous, virgin beauty awaits me and I will respond to its call. I feel like the space around me is sculpted with me being the center of this universe. I feel like it is mine… The snow, the rock, the ash, the wisps of grass, the flowers, the scuttling mice and geckos, the rolling slopes, the jagged cliffs, the hanging clouds, the chilled and fragrant air that fills my lungs, the music of the birds punctuated by a blissful silence...

Only one phrase rings within me at this moment, like the notes of a symphony of the song of my life… La pura vida… La dolce vida…