Hiking Telica Volcano
So, I have just made it back from my first ever full-fledged volcano hike, in one piece, nevertheless, despite feeling aches and pains all over my body at the moment. But let me start at the beginning. On Friday, I finally decided to make use of my new hiking shoes and make a nature outing, so I signed up for a two-day hike to Volcán Telica - one of several volcanoes in the Maribio Range near Leon. Telica is an active volcano, 1061 meters in height, and its last eruption (mostly of ash) was in 2004. I signed up for the hike with Quetzal Trekkers, a non-profit organization that runs hikes to all the nearby volcanoes, all led by volunteers (who are required to stay a minimum of two months on the job), with the proceeds going to helping street kids in Leon. All in all, I could carry out one of my favorite activities for a noble cause.
Six of us (two guides and four tourists – an American, a German, an Irish woman and me) set off around 8 am on Saturday morning, after first packing our backpacks. We each carried a ration of food, 6 liters of water, some clothing, a sleeping bag and sleeping mat, and parts of the two tents we would set up once we reached the crater. Not being an experienced backpacker and never having hiked with a backpack full of gear and supplies before, I immediately started to question how I would make it to the top, but quickly pushed those thoughts aside. Our first stretch included taking a small truck-bus to the local bus terminal and then hopping on a bus (yes, another school bus) to San Jacinto. The bus terminal was a hectic place – the smell of food emanating from all sides, eager Nicas trying to convince you to get on (and sometimes even push you onto) their bus (even if your destination was elsewhere), food and produce vendors everywhere. We got to our bus and while we waited for it to leave, vendors kept getting on, walking the full length of the aisle offering their food or produce, then getting off again. This happened several times, even after the bus had already set off on its route. Vendors would get on at random bus stops, walk through the aisle selling their goods, then get off at the next stop. I guess, they probably then caught a bus in the opposite direction. (On a sidenote, I actually wondered whether they have to pay a bus fare or whether they have some agreement with the bus drivers to let them get on for free to sell their goods.) We even had a woman get on who gave a full lecture on parasites! She discussed at length several different kinds, how one contracts them, and what the treatment involved. She followed her lecture up with the sale of different packets of powder and balms for parasite prevention and treatment.
At San Jacinto, we briefly visited the famous mud pools (Los Hervideros de San Jacinto). My guidebook advertised this as a must-visit site, but honestly I didn’t actually understand what all the fuss was about and definitely don’t think it’s worth a day trip, unless you are combining this with visits to other locations (like Volcan Telica). A few mud pits bubbled, you smelled sulphur, and the ground around the pools was super hot, all because of the geo-thermal activity associated with the volcanoes. But that was about it.
We then began our ascent. The first stretch – a steady uphill climb – took us about 1.5 hrs, up a dusty and stony road, with fields of crops on both sides. We had the bad and good luck of having mostly a sunny first stretch – good luck, because it is far, far worse to hike up if it’s raining (which happens quite often now that it’s the rainy season), but bad luck obviously because it felt scorching hot (and the heavy backpack on my back did not make things any easier). As we walked steadily along, we kept passing by farmers on horses going in the opposite direction. Some were carrying produce, others were carrying water, still others had only machetes in their hands. After a quick “Buenos dias”, which was always returned, most of them would wish us “Que le vaya bien” (wishing us a good one, basically). This was their territory, so to speak, and it felt nice to be welcomed in such an open way. Our first break spot was under a grapefruit tree (no fruits at this time of year though) where we were told to eat a few of our packed cookies for energy, although I wasn’t hungry at all. But having heard stories of people really struggling because they hadn’t snacked, I decided not to risk it.
The next stretch was the easy one – approximately 45 minutes of walking mostly on flat ground, on a small path winding through bean and cornfields. This was, for many reasons, my favorite stretch. Not only was it physically the least challenging and most enjoyable, but it also offered the most breathtaking views of the surrounding countryside – lush green vegetation, the peaks of Telica (giving off clouds of smoke on this particular day) and other volcanoes in the distance, long stretches of bean fields, with the occasional herd of cows or a horse or two. This easy stretch quickly ended and after taking another snack break (this time under a mango tree :)), we were faced with the steepest and hardest section.
After the first 10 minutes my backpack started to feel increasingly heavier, my shoulders were aching (despite feeling most of the weight on my hips) and I could feel the pain in my hamstrings (that’s what happens when you don’t exercise regularly). Luckily, we didn’t have any super-fit or fast people in our group, so we kept a pretty slow pace. Still, even this slow pace took most of my energy out of me. I wasn’t steady on my feet, the loose stones on the steep incline were tricky to maneuver, and my throat was parching every 5 mins. After approximately an hour and quite frequent one-minute breaks, we made it to our lunch spot (under another big tree). I had never felt happier than at the moment I took the backpack off my back and sat down.
After lunch, the remaining stretch, apart from another five-minute section, was quite easy and we quickly reached the base of the crater. The crater is a mass of brown, loose rock but its base is a mixture of green meadows with scattered volcanic rock. It felt like we were entering a little paradise. A herd of cows grazed happily near the grassy spot where we set up camp. One of our guides was just commenting on how lucky we were that it hadn’t rained, when the storm clouds started gathering in. For the most part, they missed us, but after about an hour, it was clear that we were going to get rained on, very soon. Once the rain started, it didn’t let up for a while. The cows disappeared, we hid in the bigger of the two tents and ended up chatting for a few hours, before having dinner. The rain and wind died down just long enough for us to light a fire and toast some marshmallows (yes, they have marshmallows, even in Nicaragua!) Normally, we would have gone up to the edge of the crater to see the sunset, but given the weather, this was impossible. So we decided to get up early and see the sunrise instead.
All of us crashed pretty early (I think we were all in bed by 9 pm). The rain and wind continued intermittently, but the more notable noises were those of the cows grazing (and peeing!) around our tents. I kept waking up in the middle of the night to munching sounds, hoping that the cow would not inadvertently trip over our tent poles and end up falling on top of and crushing us. At one point, there was some commotion, because we heard them running around. But nothing out of the ordinary happened, and I would fall back asleep.
Before I knew it, our alarm sounded and it was time to get up and watch the sunrise. Unfortunately, it was still very overcast and drizzling, so we had to skip the sunrise, but climbed up to the edge of the crater nevertheless. The balls of white smoke the volcano was spewing forth were quite impressive, undulating with the wind. At dusk and dawn, if there is no smoke, you can sometimes see glowing lava at the bottom of the crater. Unfortunately, we had no such luck, but despite this, the view of the crater, once at the top, was breathtaking. It really felt like we were at the complete mercy of nature at that very moment, and the feeling was overpowering. Gazing down at the patches of green grass mixed with brown rocks, one becomes fully aware of the cyclical nature of this place. Volcano eruptions destroy the surrounding countryside, but this temporary destruction is followed by periods of increased fertility…until the following eruption. I have always wondered what it is like to live close to an active volcano, being fully aware that your home and your surroundings could be wiped away at any moment.
Despite my struggle to make it to the top and despite the wind and rain, it was all worth it in the end (more than worth it, I would say). I knew it would be, and that’s what kept me going, even when I had the feeling that my legs would give way. “It is all about expectations,” our guide had said. And expecting the view from the top was my energy and stamina booster, I guess.
We returned following the same route we had come on. I think I will not do any strenuous physical activity for the next week or so. But, who knows, maybe the weekend after that I will venture to Volcano Cosiguina (the volcano furthest up in the north-west and about a 6-hour bus ride from Leon). That one boasts a crater lake.
Upon returning to my house in Leon, I found out that there was a power outage due to the strong wind and rain the previous night. But, every cloud has a silver lining: for the first time in 2.5 weeks I was able to take a shower with proper running water in the house (the water pressure can be really poor in Leon and had been for the past 2.5 weeks). And it felt incredible!
Six of us (two guides and four tourists – an American, a German, an Irish woman and me) set off around 8 am on Saturday morning, after first packing our backpacks. We each carried a ration of food, 6 liters of water, some clothing, a sleeping bag and sleeping mat, and parts of the two tents we would set up once we reached the crater. Not being an experienced backpacker and never having hiked with a backpack full of gear and supplies before, I immediately started to question how I would make it to the top, but quickly pushed those thoughts aside. Our first stretch included taking a small truck-bus to the local bus terminal and then hopping on a bus (yes, another school bus) to San Jacinto. The bus terminal was a hectic place – the smell of food emanating from all sides, eager Nicas trying to convince you to get on (and sometimes even push you onto) their bus (even if your destination was elsewhere), food and produce vendors everywhere. We got to our bus and while we waited for it to leave, vendors kept getting on, walking the full length of the aisle offering their food or produce, then getting off again. This happened several times, even after the bus had already set off on its route. Vendors would get on at random bus stops, walk through the aisle selling their goods, then get off at the next stop. I guess, they probably then caught a bus in the opposite direction. (On a sidenote, I actually wondered whether they have to pay a bus fare or whether they have some agreement with the bus drivers to let them get on for free to sell their goods.) We even had a woman get on who gave a full lecture on parasites! She discussed at length several different kinds, how one contracts them, and what the treatment involved. She followed her lecture up with the sale of different packets of powder and balms for parasite prevention and treatment.
At San Jacinto, we briefly visited the famous mud pools (Los Hervideros de San Jacinto). My guidebook advertised this as a must-visit site, but honestly I didn’t actually understand what all the fuss was about and definitely don’t think it’s worth a day trip, unless you are combining this with visits to other locations (like Volcan Telica). A few mud pits bubbled, you smelled sulphur, and the ground around the pools was super hot, all because of the geo-thermal activity associated with the volcanoes. But that was about it.
We then began our ascent. The first stretch – a steady uphill climb – took us about 1.5 hrs, up a dusty and stony road, with fields of crops on both sides. We had the bad and good luck of having mostly a sunny first stretch – good luck, because it is far, far worse to hike up if it’s raining (which happens quite often now that it’s the rainy season), but bad luck obviously because it felt scorching hot (and the heavy backpack on my back did not make things any easier). As we walked steadily along, we kept passing by farmers on horses going in the opposite direction. Some were carrying produce, others were carrying water, still others had only machetes in their hands. After a quick “Buenos dias”, which was always returned, most of them would wish us “Que le vaya bien” (wishing us a good one, basically). This was their territory, so to speak, and it felt nice to be welcomed in such an open way. Our first break spot was under a grapefruit tree (no fruits at this time of year though) where we were told to eat a few of our packed cookies for energy, although I wasn’t hungry at all. But having heard stories of people really struggling because they hadn’t snacked, I decided not to risk it.
The next stretch was the easy one – approximately 45 minutes of walking mostly on flat ground, on a small path winding through bean and cornfields. This was, for many reasons, my favorite stretch. Not only was it physically the least challenging and most enjoyable, but it also offered the most breathtaking views of the surrounding countryside – lush green vegetation, the peaks of Telica (giving off clouds of smoke on this particular day) and other volcanoes in the distance, long stretches of bean fields, with the occasional herd of cows or a horse or two. This easy stretch quickly ended and after taking another snack break (this time under a mango tree :)), we were faced with the steepest and hardest section.
After the first 10 minutes my backpack started to feel increasingly heavier, my shoulders were aching (despite feeling most of the weight on my hips) and I could feel the pain in my hamstrings (that’s what happens when you don’t exercise regularly). Luckily, we didn’t have any super-fit or fast people in our group, so we kept a pretty slow pace. Still, even this slow pace took most of my energy out of me. I wasn’t steady on my feet, the loose stones on the steep incline were tricky to maneuver, and my throat was parching every 5 mins. After approximately an hour and quite frequent one-minute breaks, we made it to our lunch spot (under another big tree). I had never felt happier than at the moment I took the backpack off my back and sat down.
After lunch, the remaining stretch, apart from another five-minute section, was quite easy and we quickly reached the base of the crater. The crater is a mass of brown, loose rock but its base is a mixture of green meadows with scattered volcanic rock. It felt like we were entering a little paradise. A herd of cows grazed happily near the grassy spot where we set up camp. One of our guides was just commenting on how lucky we were that it hadn’t rained, when the storm clouds started gathering in. For the most part, they missed us, but after about an hour, it was clear that we were going to get rained on, very soon. Once the rain started, it didn’t let up for a while. The cows disappeared, we hid in the bigger of the two tents and ended up chatting for a few hours, before having dinner. The rain and wind died down just long enough for us to light a fire and toast some marshmallows (yes, they have marshmallows, even in Nicaragua!) Normally, we would have gone up to the edge of the crater to see the sunset, but given the weather, this was impossible. So we decided to get up early and see the sunrise instead.
All of us crashed pretty early (I think we were all in bed by 9 pm). The rain and wind continued intermittently, but the more notable noises were those of the cows grazing (and peeing!) around our tents. I kept waking up in the middle of the night to munching sounds, hoping that the cow would not inadvertently trip over our tent poles and end up falling on top of and crushing us. At one point, there was some commotion, because we heard them running around. But nothing out of the ordinary happened, and I would fall back asleep.
Before I knew it, our alarm sounded and it was time to get up and watch the sunrise. Unfortunately, it was still very overcast and drizzling, so we had to skip the sunrise, but climbed up to the edge of the crater nevertheless. The balls of white smoke the volcano was spewing forth were quite impressive, undulating with the wind. At dusk and dawn, if there is no smoke, you can sometimes see glowing lava at the bottom of the crater. Unfortunately, we had no such luck, but despite this, the view of the crater, once at the top, was breathtaking. It really felt like we were at the complete mercy of nature at that very moment, and the feeling was overpowering. Gazing down at the patches of green grass mixed with brown rocks, one becomes fully aware of the cyclical nature of this place. Volcano eruptions destroy the surrounding countryside, but this temporary destruction is followed by periods of increased fertility…until the following eruption. I have always wondered what it is like to live close to an active volcano, being fully aware that your home and your surroundings could be wiped away at any moment.
Despite my struggle to make it to the top and despite the wind and rain, it was all worth it in the end (more than worth it, I would say). I knew it would be, and that’s what kept me going, even when I had the feeling that my legs would give way. “It is all about expectations,” our guide had said. And expecting the view from the top was my energy and stamina booster, I guess.
We returned following the same route we had come on. I think I will not do any strenuous physical activity for the next week or so. But, who knows, maybe the weekend after that I will venture to Volcano Cosiguina (the volcano furthest up in the north-west and about a 6-hour bus ride from Leon). That one boasts a crater lake.
Upon returning to my house in Leon, I found out that there was a power outage due to the strong wind and rain the previous night. But, every cloud has a silver lining: for the first time in 2.5 weeks I was able to take a shower with proper running water in the house (the water pressure can be really poor in Leon and had been for the past 2.5 weeks). And it felt incredible!
Setting off - steam from the San Jacinto Mudpools and Santa Clara volcano in the background.
Santa Clara Volcano
The hike through the easy stretch...
... with corn and bean fields as far as the eye can see.
Our destination: the brown fuming volcano in the distance.
This was part of the most grueling stretch. This was the only photo I took (probably because I was too focused on actually making it through)
Finally, lunch. After the hardest stretch.
View on the way to the base of the crater.
Fuming crater. We would set up camp on the grassy stretch (below).
At the top of the crater at dawn on Sunday.
2 comments:
Just came back from Guatemala and did a similar (although not quite as tough) volcano hike there. And guess what? They had marshmallows too! We got to toast ours in the lava, which makes you even more careful next time you walk anywhere near a lava flow :) I have no idea what your plans are once you are done in Nicaragua but I would seriously recommend a trip to Guate, it was absolutely sensational
Oh, I wish I could. But I will hardly have time to see more of Nicaragua, and then three days after I get back to the US, I am off to India for 12 days (school policy workshop thing). Not complaining. I get to see a lot of new places this summer. Will definitely add Guatemala and probably the rest of Central America to my growing list of future desired destinations :) I want to see pictures - I'm assuming they will be up on FB soon? :)
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