Huaraz

“Climbing may be hard, but it’s easier than growing up.”

– Ed Sklar

Introduction

After leaving Arequipa I returned to Lima, and got out as quick as I could. The real destination was Huaraz, a place I had never heard of until I googled “places to climb SA”. My body had grown soft and supple over the last few months and something needed to change, I needed some time hanging onto rocks. After seeing the setting of Huaraz, I was sold.

The setting for Huaraz is what is important. You don’t come here for the city, you come here for what the city has access to. Especially after a place like Arequipa the architecture of Huaraz can be somewhat uninspired (or perhaps simply whelming).

The shopping scene is great, with Huaraz having access to some of the feshest brands available.

I arrived in Huaraz and found a climbers hospedaje named Monkeywasi. So far so good. There was just one tiny drawback; being named Reid and not Alex Honnold, I would require a belaying partner. I know, I should hang my head in shame. When me and Andrew were travelling the world together, everyone we met we would ask to be our best friends. We would ask people we just met if they would be our best friends and go on an 8 day road trip with us. We asked others if they thought of us as our best friends like we did to them. The results were mixed.

Fortunately the year is 2020, not 1850 and if you want to make a new best friend, there is an app for that. I opened a hangout on couchsurfer stating that I desired to climb, and within seconds a French dude named Leo responded. New best friend, thankyou modern convenience!

The toughest part of each climbing day was getting up out of bed by 8:00. Somehow I surmounted the insurmountable and was up, fed and watered by 8:30. If the older generation thinks we are getting softer, please refer them to the preceding sentence. We rented gear from Monkeywasi and set out through Huaraz to Los Olivos, a crag just on the outskirts of the city.

Not All Dogs Go To Heaven

Huaraz is the first Peruvian city I have visited with a significant dog population. The ones in city centre are as sweet as those from El Calafate, but as you move closer to the suburbs things begin to get hairy. Around every corner there is a new pack of 6-7 dogs that “own” that part of the neighbourhood. If I could understand their barks I’m sure they would all be saying “Oh, you came to the wrong part of town,” “I’ll wreck ya, swear on me mum,” or “Let’s make an example of this one.”

You know the situation is dire when I didn’t even honour any of these dogs with a dishonouring name like Trash-Boi-Swol. To give any name, bad or good, is more than they deserve. The first time we moved through their hoods I was making my peace with going for the rabies vaccine and preparing myself for a fight. As hard as it may be, if you keep your head down and keep moving forward the dogs seemingly are all bark and no bite. They follow right on your heels, teeth barred and woofing like they never woofed before, but once you leave their territory they retreat. You get about a milliseconds reprieve before the next gang takes their place.

Being the optimist that I am however, I noted that this is actually good; there is no need to warm up because your heart rate is already through the roof by the time you reach the crag.

The next time we decided to go to Los Olivos (Me, Leo, German Niels and American Carl), we did not feel like going passed the crazy dogs guarding the crag entrance. Instead, we would take a large detour up and around the other side of the valley, crawl down to the river, ford the river and crawl up the other side. This seemed well and good as a theory, but the practice was much different. The dogs were all over us once again, and while in the alley descending the slopes, a huge one burst out from under a tarp. Me and Leo turned to run, and unfortunately Monsieur France caught his foot on a tin fence and fell straight down the hill, wrapped in tin and wood. Again, this was looked upon favourably, as tetanus is an improvement over rabies.

All in all I rate these dogs a 0/10. I am not even very afraid of dogs, so if you have a predisposition against them, think twice trying to hike outside of Huaraz.

Climbing in Town

Los Olivos is a cool crag with three sectors right inside of Huaraz. The thing about climbing as a duo, is that it is really difficult to take pictures. You are either climbing which is an important job, or belaying, which I am told is also relatively important. Every now and then though, I would carefully remove my phone from my pocket and take a shot downwards. One might say I like to live dangerously.

The first day at Los Olivos I was just trying to pretend I wasn’t afraid. All routes were being done by lead climbing, and it had been a while since I climbed anything at all. My friends would casually say “How about this route? It’s 5.10c!” To which I would steady my voice and say “Oh yeah man, sounds great.”

Thankfully something switched in my brain and I started to feel less fear than ever climbing. I did my first large boulder problem (a 4.5m slab), lead my first 5.10d (complete with a dyno above the bolt) and took a whip on the first bolt of a route. All of these things were tasks I was very apprehensive of, so getting the experiences out of the way was a huge gain mentally.

Huaraz is so cool because of the huge amount of quality climbing accessible from within the town. Go there, but pay the 30 cents to take a collectivo or tuk-tuk past the dogs. Even if it breaks the bank, its worth the non-mauling.

Hiking Up High

As a rest day me, Leo and Ryan (Canadian from approx. Whitehorse) hiked up to a Lagoon. You know a place is awesome when a “rest day” includes hiking up to 4600m. It being the rainy season we were socked into cloud, with fleeting views of our surroundings. I also only brought my wind breaker and got thoroughly soaked. My outdoor school teachers voice rang through my head “There is no such thing as bad weather, only bad preparation.” I was alright with this though as I hadn’t showered in a coon’s age. Me and Ryan being Canadian were fine with being cold, Leo on the other hand, being a Parisian was not excited by the temperature. He claimed to get cold at anything below +15. Completely to my surprise, his complaints did not receive much sympathy.

After a few hours, and some climbing with chains we reached what should have been the lake and mountains. What we got instead was further evidence that the Earth is flat.

As we left, the clouds parted and gave us a bit of a view. Still just a tease, and honestly I wished I hadn’t seen it because now I need to readjust my world view. I had the smoking gun for a flat Earth, now its back to the drawing board.

Hatun Mache

Two hours outside Huaraz, at an altitude of 4200m sits Hatun Mache. Its an old volcanic formation where the outer rock eroded leaving the hard volcanic rock core. Many of the spires are 40m tall, making this a climbers paradise.

Much higher than Huaraz means focussing on breathing is even more important, and the height makes the air/rock cold, completely freezing your hands on these long routes. The cold was a blessing in disguise though, because it gave me the opportunity to workshop some new looks I have been working on.

Me and Leo stayed here two days, which was worth it, especially because we got to stay in a five star tent. I was so happy I sent my garbage tent home with Andrew. What made the accommodation extra perfect was that it was sized for a Peruano, meaning that my head pushed one end of the tent out, while my feet bulged the other end out. I was so pleased by the extreme cooling each end received as a result.

The climbing is epic, but the stone rips you apart (at least it did my hands, which were admittedly fairly soft). After a day of climbing, two of my finger pads were so thin that they left small droplets of blood on the stone, despite not being cut. Over the course of the two days my shoes wore the toes out.

This sounds like a lot of complaining, but I am absolutely not. Hatun Mache cracks the list of most magical places I have been to. The clouds roll in and give the feeling that you are on the set of Lord of The Rings. It is totally possible to get lost when the cloud rolls in, visibility goes to zero, and the rock forest twists you and turns you around.

Something deep inside me wanted to get lost forever so I took a gander into the rocks through the fog. It’s a shame my sense of direction is so perfect, because I made it out free from harm and/or rock goblins.

The only issue is making the walk from the rock forest back to camp. The method is really to just set out and pray you don’t miss it. However, the walk takes about a half hour of panting, so the thought that you did miss it sets in pretty quick. I tried to use echo location but it’s harder than the dolphins make it look. Just another reason to hate dolphins.

Chewing the Coca Leaf

Huaraz the city is at an altitude of 3052m, which is nearly higher than most mountains I have climbed in Canada. Climbing and hiking require a lot of breathing, and sometimes you just don’t get enough oxygen.

Enter the coca leaf. Chewing on this wakes you up, clears your head and paints your smile a beautiful green shade.

To really work, you put in a pinch of Sodium Bicarbonate. The good stuff comes out of the leaves, numbs your cheeks and gives a bit of an energy boost. In the time-honoured tradition of a “totally non addict” my German friend had sourced a base that was “better” than Sodium Bicarbonate, named Cali. It had all the aesthetic features of bicarb powder, so what could go wrong? My aunt and dedicated reader of this blog began her career as a chemical technician. She always taught me that when it comes to substances you are unsure of; leap, don’t look. “Down the hatch!” I recall her saying. She has since moved into the field of safety, but her messaging regarding chemical tasting has been consistent and I respect that. So we all took a pinch of Cali and immediately regretted it. It was so basic, the pain was immediate. My tongue swelled up, and anything passing over it for the next two days felt like fire. I considered the possibility that that region of my tongue might die. We figured the only thing Cali could be was mine tailings from the local silver mine. I asked the German what he thought about this new experience and he said “It hurts like hell, but it gets you there I guess.” Spoken like a true totally non addict.

Conclusions

Making friends is easier than ever. Come to Huaraz in the dry season. Skin grows back. Not all dogs are man’s best friend. Don’t judge a city by its appearance. Getting wet is not the end of the world. Get out and learn to climb! Maybe don’t try every random substance that comes your way.

Huaraz: Two thumbs up

Reid Patterson

Currently on my way to Trujillo