Volcan Pacaya - Guatemala

Looming 2552 meters over the south end of Guatemala City, Volcan Pacaya is a popular weekend excursion because it is the only active volcano in the region. A mere 20 minutes from the city (which can quickly become 2 hours during rush hour), one can take a shuttle bus or hitch a ride halfway up the mountain to the small sub-alpine village of San Fransisco. There you'll need to buy an entrance pass (25Q = $3) and can hire a guild to take you up to the summit. In past years, the guilds were for protection from thieves, but, with the creation of Guatemalan Tourist Police Force, crimes in these touristed areas have dropped off significantly. Still, it is highly recommend that you hire a guild because, though you may not face emanate danger from would-be bandits, without the guilds you would get hopelessly lost in the labyrinth of trails and paths that zig-zag up and down the mountain slopes.

We arrived in the late afternoon and, escorted by our guild Pedro, we started our accent. The first part of the trek is the hardest. You slowly climb a sleep broken concrete trail through dense tropical forests while trying to avoid being trampled by passing horses, or as the locals trying to coax you into there saddles call them, taxis). After about a half km we came to a plateau that offered great views of other dormant volcanoes and the small Alpine Pacaya lake. Pacaya, by the way, is the name of a local fruit that grows on the lush hillsides of the volcano.

From the plateau, we navigated our way up the poorly marked trails another 2 km to the cone of the summit, frequently stopping along the way to catch our breath while Pedro pointed out local flora and Fauna. As night descended, we accented the final pitch through the tree line an out into the open volcanic rock fields. We were still a good distance away from the top but we could already see the red glow on the western slope. We marched on in eager anticipation and, coming to the end of the dirt path, preceded slowly on the unstable volcanic boulders. I could see the lava clearly, a neon orange and red river that flowed slowly, but unabatedly, to the depths below. If that weren't enough of a site, I noticed in the distance, that people seemed to be right on the banks of the flows taking pictures and throwing rocks into the magma. Those people got to be crazy, I thought, getting that close to lava, why, at any point the flows could shift and- "Vamanos muchacos," Pedro yelled and started up toward the flows. I waited to see if anyone else ìn the group was crazy enough to follow, but, to my surprise, no one blinked an eye, they just fell into line behind him. So I jumped off the cliff too.

As we drew nearer, we could feel the intense heat that the lava produced as it ate through rocks, trees, and tundra. We passed several rock piles on either side that were actually on fire. That's right, rocks...on fire... That equals, hot as hell. It was pitch dark now and I used my pathetic little pen light to aid me as I stumbled up the volcanic rocks. Twice I lost my balance and had to use my hands to break my fall, and both times my hands fell on hot, steaming rocks that burned the skin. Now I understood why the guild book said not to wear sneakers... the hot rocks burn off the rubber soles. I, of course, opted not to heed the warning. Finally, we made it to the banks of the flow. To my surprise it was not a hostel, foreboding place. It was actually quite peaceful, as the steady trickle of lava slowly broke apart the surrounding rocks and shrubs. Then it hit me, I was standing in a vortex, devoid of time, lava is ageless, ageless as the world itself, and I was witnessing it 10ft in front of my face.

We stated up there for an hour, entranced by the glowing warmth of mother nature. Our decent, now in complete darkness, actually required more energy then the trek up because you had to constantly watch the ground in front of you as to not trip on a root or rock and go tumbling down into a ravine. By the time we got back to San Francisco we were exhausted, but still jumping with excitment from what we had just witnessed. It was all we could talk about on the way back. "Oh man, my shoes are done," an American said. "I felt that I was to almost burn in flames," echoed a German. It went on like that all the way back to town. By the time I got home, then almost midnight, I didn't even have the energy to take a much needed shower. But, lying there in bed, I still couldn't sleep glowing with amazment for what I had just seen.