Volcan Santa María and Lago de Atitlán

Last weekend I checked off two more things I wanted to do while in Guatemala. The first was to climb Volcan Santa María and the second was to visit Lago de Atitlán. Volcan Santa María is a 12,375 tall mountain with a nearly perfectly conical shape when viewed from Xela where I'm learning Spanish and working in a clinic for a month. As with every place I've ever lived I wanted to climb the tallest mountain on the horizon.

The climb up Santa Maria ended up turning into somewhat of an adventure. Originally I had figured that we would pay a local guide to take us up the mountain. But after befriending a Guatemalan medical student at church who wanted to climb and after hearing that it was easy to find and stay on the trail up the mountain we decided to do it on our own without a guide. Four of us, three Americans and our Guatemalan friend, met at 6:30AM in a park in Xela and hopped on a chicken-bus, used by the locals, to take us to a village at the base of the mountain. While on the bus our Guatemalan friend told us he would not be able to climb the mountain with us as he had an English class in the university which he had forgotten about. He helped us to find the beginning of the trail up the mountain though so we were confident that we would reach the summit without a problem. But in a half hour we were lost, asking the occasional farmer or Guatemalan collecting wood for guidance back to the right path. Having heard many tales of tourists being robbed or worse while wandering around in wilderness areas of Guatemala, getting lost was not an experience free from anxiety. But after asking three or four people we ran into for directions we finally found the correct path and after innumerable switch-backs reached the summit. As with every mountain I've climbed, reaching the summit was an extremely rewarding experience. Unfortunately it was quite cloudy by the time we were on top of the mountain so we were unable to view the very active and regularly erupting volcano, Santiaguito, which is very close to Santa Maria.

Volcan Santa María as viewed from the roof of my school and clinic in Xela.

Landscape near the base of Santa María.

At the summit of Volcan Santa María, 12,375 ft.

The second adventure of the weekend began on Sunday with a bus-ride with a fellow classmate from Loma Linda, also attending the Spanish school in Xela. After we went Bethel Evangelical Presbyterian Church, we departed Xela for the town of Panajachel on the shore of Guatemala's famous Lake Atitlán. Atitlán is the deepest lake in Central American and was formed by the collapse of an enormous volcanic caldera.

We took chicken buses from Xela to Panajachel, changing buses twice in Los Encuentros and then in Sololá. By 4:30 we were in Panajachel, a village known as a destination for hippies leaving the U.S. and called "Gringotenango" by my Spanish tutor which roughly translates, "place of the Gringo." Gringotenango would be an apt name for Panajachel as the many blond heads and the great frequency of tourists speaking German, French and English formed a surprising contrast to Xela, where I've lived for the past two weeks. After getting situated in a hotel we headed down to the lake and everything I had heard of it's beauty seemed to be true. Great, conical volcanoes rose from it's shores as the sun reflected pink and orange on thunderheads in the distance.

We decided to find a private boat operator to take us around to some of the small, mostly indigenous villages surrounding the lake. After attempting to haggle we reached a deal of paying half the price of the trip in cash that night with an agreement to pay the other half with a credit card the next morning. We hoped that as is often the case in Western Guatemala this time of year, the morning sky would be free of clouds. After arising early we were down at the boat dock waiting for the boat-operator by 6AM. By 6:20 he showed up and we were zooming across Lake Atitlán. While the lake in the early morning was a beautiful sight, the day ended up being quite hazy and cloudy with the magnificent volcanoes arising around the shores being mostly shrouded in clouds.

We first visited Santiago de Atitlán, having breakfast there at 7:30 and visiting the very old church with its shrine to the "Martyrs of Santiago Atitlán," killed during the Guatemalan civil war, including the local parish priest, Fr. Stanley Rother. We next headed to the small villages of San Antonio and Santa Catarina before returning to Panajachel. Upon our return our boat operator informed us that the credit card machine was not receiving a signal and therefore we would have to pay the rest of our fee in cash. One problem: we were almost out of cash and and neither of us brought our debit cards because of the decently high chance of being robbed. When we told the operator we didn't have enough cash he sent his friend with us to follow us around Panajachel as we tried to find a solution to our problem. After a visit to the bank where I was told that the only way I could get a cash advance from a credit card without a pin number was to withdraw 2,000 quetzales I assumed I'd be calling my dad to get him to wire me cash through Western Union. In the end my fellow classmate was able to somehow convince his credit card company to give him and emergency pin number over the phone to get a cash-advance. He got the cash and we payed for the boat-ride around the lake which had been well worth it.

Lago de Atitlán from Panachel.

The village of San Antonio on the eastern shore of Atitlán.

Near Santiago de Atitlán.

Looking out the church doors in San Antonio.

Tajumulco

Before coming to Guatemala, the one thing I knew I wanted to do in the country was climb the tallest mountain in Central America, Volcán Tajumulco. Tajumulco is a large stratovolcano in the Northwest of Guatemala with an elevation of 13,845 ft.

A group of four students from our Spanish school were picked up at 3AM Saturday morning for a 2 hour drive to a village at the base of Tajumulco. There we were supposed to find our guide to take us up the mountain but our driver was unable to find him in the village. He eventually found a teenager who was willing to guide us up the mountain. This young man, Julio, was an indigenous person and a member of the Mam tribe, a people group descended from the Mayans. It was very interesting to talk with him about his family in Spanish as we climbed the mountain. It was also interesting to hear him speak in his native tongue on his cell phone in a language which sounded very similar to some of the languages I've heard spoken by Native Americans from the U.S.

The climb itself was not very difficult and followed a well-trod path until about 500 ft. below the summit where we began to scramble over rocks. The views from the summit were spectacular with the range of Central American volcanoes stretching to the south and the mountains of southern Mexico to the north. We shared our lunches and water with our guide at the summit as he had been unprepared to lead a group up that day and were back at the car by four in the afternoon. It was a great introduction to hiking in Guatemala. Here are some pictures:

At sunrise looking at a nearby peak in northern Guatemala.

A lizard.

We came across a number of cows grazing at the 9 or 1o,ooo ft. elevation.

Looking south at the volcanoes stretching into Central America. The closest is Santa Maria, which is nearby Xela, the city I'm staying in.

Summit of Tajumulco.

Wildflowers.

Two (small) peaks in one day - Morton & Zanja

I wanted to find a nearby peak to summit so after looking at google terrain maps for about an hour I decided to do two in one day. Both of these peaks were smaller than what I'm used to climbing but they were within an hour of where I live and both looked somewhat interesting. The combination of the two peaks also provided a decent physical challenge. The first climb up 4624 ft. Morton Peak was a 6 mile round trip hike with an elevation gain of about 1300 ft, the second climb up 3543 ft. Zanja Peak was about 4 miles round trip with an elevation gain of about 900 ft. I headed to the base of Morton Peak in the San Gorgonio Mountains in the morning and within two hours had summited, explored around the fire look-out tower on top and hiked back down to my car. I drove about 20 minutes to Yucaipa Regional Park to the trailhead of my second hike. From there I climbed Zanja Peak which is the highest point in the Crafton Hills to the north of the town of Yucaipa where I go to church.

Approaching Morton Peak's summit the fire look-out on top comes into view.

An eagle soars above Mill Creek Valley

At the summit of Morton Peak, the fire look-out. Unfortunately the platform was firmly locked up so I couldn't get up there.

Summit of Morton Peak

Climbing up Zanja Peak I came across this cross on a lower hill. Mt. San Bernardino in the background.

Looking down on Yucaipa from Zanja Peak summit. I go to church down there.

And the summit markers. . .

Catalina Island

The second place I checked out during my recent time off from clerkship rotations was Santa Catalina Island. Catalina is one of the Channel Islands, about 22 miles long and about 20 miles off the coast of Los Angeles. As with the Salton Sea, the Channel Islands off of Southern California have intrigued me since grade school. I first heard of these islands in 3rd or 4th grade when I read the children's book Island of the Blue Dolphins. For the last couple of years in medical school every time I've gone to the beach to surf or relax I've seen Catalina Island in the distance. So the last time I was at the beach I decided I would take the ferry out to the Island and then hike to the highest point - Mt. Orizaba.

I got on the ferry at Long Beach at nine in the morning and over an hour later made landfall at the harbor of Avalon, one of two small towns on the island. Avalon is a very compact and interesting town where the majority of inhabitants drive golf carts as their primary vehicle. After getting my hiking permit at the Catalina Conservancy Office I went to track down a bus that would take me about 5 miles into the interior to get to the start of the trail to climb Orizaba. But upon visiting the offices of both bus companies on the island I came to the seemingly devastating conclusion that I would not be climbing Orizaba that day as there were no buses running into the interior. I thought briefly about trying to make it to the summit hiking from Avalon but I knew if I tried such a thing - over 20 miles round trip - it would be dark by the time I hiked back into town and I might miss the last ferry back to Long beach.

The islanders were of a friendly sort though and one older man who saw me looking at my map simply suggested I hike up into the hills around Avalon. As I climbed into the hills above the town I realized that this day would not be a disappointment. I was amazed by the beauty of my surroundings as I hiked along the crest of the island. The Pacific Ocean stretched into the distance with San Clemente Island in the foreground to the southwest and to the northeast was the blue of the San Pedro Channel and the snow-capped mountains of Southern California in the distance. While it was obvious that this island was a much more arid environment than my home in Western Washington I was surprised by the lush growth of a wide variety of shrubs, trees and plants as I hiked around.

Dodecatheon sp. - lots of these at the lower elevations.

Looking to the north - some interesting trees and the southern Californian mainland in the distance.

My initial goal had been Mt. Orizaba, the highest point on the left. Maybe next time.

A green hillside on the southwest side of the island. If you look closely you can see a lot of Prickly Pear cacti (Opuntia) on the hillside.

Looking to the northwest. The town of Avalon in the foreground. In the distance is snow-capped Mt. Baldy, highest point in Los Angeles county.

After hiking for about five hours I found a great place to watch the sun set over the Pacific. I had brought City of God with me so I read an interesting chapter where Augustine recounted various healing miracles he had witnessed during his ministry. The sunset was quite impressive and it was dark by the time I made it back to town - just in time for the 6:15 ferry.

Sunset from Catalina

My ride back to the mainland.

Salton Sea

During my two weeks of working on research and having a fairly open schedule I decided to check out a couple of nearby places that have always intrigued me. The first of these was the Salton Sea, about an hour east of Loma Linda, out in the desert past Palm Springs. I had first heard of the Salton Sea from a teacher in high school and it had interested me ever since because of how it came into existence. This salt lake, the largest body of water in California, was created by accident when floodwaters overran irrigation ditches in 1905. Before that this vast lake had been a depression, the lowest point of which was 5 ft higher than the lowest point in North America which is in Death Valley at 282 ft. below sea level.

Map of Southern Califonia with Salton Sea pop-out.

Red dot is approximate location of Loma Linda.

I had never met anyone who had been out to the Salton Sea and everything I read on the internet about it made me think it probably wouldn't be the nicest place to visit but I had some time on my hands so I decided to check it out. My first stop was Salton Sea Beach on the western side of the lake. This town came close to fitting my expectations of finding a post-apocalyptic-wasteland-esque environment around the lake. Salton Sea Beach, like some other places I stopped, revealed that this place was way past its heyday when it was marketed as a resort location. This town also revealed why the Salton Sea probably failed as a vacation destination. When I got out of my car at the "marina" I was first struck by the overwhelming stench of dead fish. I walked down to the water to find thousands upon thousands of dead fish, tilapia I think, floating along the shore. I think this must be a common thing here because many websites I read before my trip named fish die-offs as a problem.

West side of the sea at Salton Sea Beach, dead fish floating in water.

Abandoned building at Salton Sea Beach.

I drove all the way around the Lake which took a couple of hours. I figured maybe I could at least enjoy a good sunset at Salton Sea State Park on the east side of the lake. I got to the park about an hour before sunset and went for a brief hike along the beach. There was a lot of water fowl and once again a lot of dead fish.

Flock of birds at Salton Sea State Park on the east side.

Just before sunset I prayed a psalm at one of the conveniently placed picnic tables near the shore. As the sun sank below the San Jacinto Mountains, a chill, dank breeze blew in off the surface of the sea and I was almost overwhelmed by the heavy stench it carried. It had been an interesting day. I will probably never go back to the Salton Sea unless forced to but I'm glad I got to see it.

Sunset over the Salton Sea

Spelunking

Last weekend I made it to the last location I had planned to see while at Ft. Bliss. I headed out to Carlsbad Caverns on Saturday but upon arrival found that the elevators were malfunctioning and they weren't letting anyone down. I elected to stay in Carlsbad, New Mexico with the hope of seeing the caverns the next day. I was disappointed not to be back in El Paso for church on Sunday as I had been very blessed to worship at the Anglican Church of St. Clement on my first Sunday in the city and had hoped to return there. But on Sunday they were allowing people to hike in and out of the caverns as the elevators were still not working. I was not disappointed by what I saw upon descending 750 ft below the ground.

The entrance to the caverns

Carlsbad Caverns

Ansel Adams described the caverns more eloquently than I ever could. He described the caverns as, "something that should not exist in relation to human beings. Something that is as remote as the galaxy, incomprehensible as a nightmare, and beautiful in spite of everything."

Organ Mountains/White Sands

On Saturday I took advantage of another weekend off and headed up into southern New Mexico. In the morning I drove through Las Cruces to the Organ Mountains and hiked about 3.5 miles up to Baylor Pass. Interestingly, this pass was used by Confederate cavalry in 1862. At the pass I bush-whacked my way about halfway up Baylor Peak. My plan had been to summit it but after being stuck by some cholla and realizing my time was running short to get to the second location I wanted to make it to I decided to head back down.

The views of the Organ Mountains above Baylor Pass were pretty awesome. I also had a good view of the city of Las Cruces.

After the Organ Mountains I headed to White Sands National Monument. It is very unique and beautiful place with rolling almost white sand dunes composed of gypsum.

The sunset at White Sands was an impressive sight.

Guadalupe

On Saturday I headed about 100 miles east of El Paso to Guadalupe Mountains National Park. At the park I hiked to the summit of Guadalupe Peak, the highest point in Texas at 8751 feet. The hike was about 8.5 miles round trip with an elevation gain of about 3000 ft. It was a very enjoyable hike and the surroundings very picturesque. I find West Texas to be a very beautiful part of the country.

Looking to the northwest

Looking south from the summit at El Capitan and the Texas prairie stretching as far as the eye can see

At the summit of Guadalupe Peak

I caught this little monster on my hike back down

Looking up at the Guadalupe Mountains from the highway. Guadalupe Peak is the highest point.

Olympic

Today I used my second day off while at Fort Lewis to head up to Olympic National Park and go for a short hike before spending the afternoon studying. The Olympic Mountains are one of the few places in Washington and Oregon that I had never been to - until today. This morning I headed up to the southeastern edge of the park - the Staircase entrance west of Hoosdsport.

As I drove up the 101 along Hood Canal I was struck by the Ocean scent. I've always heard that a scent was one of the strongest reminders of past places and events and this proved true today. As I drove along the canal I was taken back to the numerous holidays I spent with my family at my grandparent's house in Ocean Park, Washington. It took me back to going clamming early in the morning on the beach, taking a walk into town with my family, and waiting for the fresh clam chowder my grandma would be making for dinner that night. I think the reminiscing from the sea-scent set me up for an even more powerful association shortly thereafter.

I made it to Hoodsport and turned inland into the Olympic Peninsula. It was a drizzly, cloudy day but I paid the entrance fee at the park gate and set out on the Staircase Trail. Shortly after beginning the hike, after crossing over a foot-bridge into the woods, I was struck by an exhilarating scent which took me back to innumerable lazy days of childhood spent with my brothers exploring the woods and creeks around my home in Southwest Washington. It was that fresh, sweet, slightly musty scent produced by thousands of tons of decaying wood overlayed with a carpet of deep, lush moss and ferns damp from the light rain and mist. It took me back to those days of building forts, catching frogs, salamanders and crawdads and fishing for native rainbow trout that we would fry up later that day.

As I hiked along the North Fork of the Skokomish River this morning, taking in my surroundings with much joy, I was reminded that any beauty or glory here only points to an infinitely greater, stronger and eternal beauty and glory, the glory of the One who made this place. The lyrics which came to mind as I hiked this morning are below:

Fairest Lord Jesus, Ruler of all nature,

O thou of God and man the Son,

Thee will I cherish, Thee will I honor,

Thou, my soul's glory, joy and crown.

Fair are the meadows, fairer still the woodlands,

Robed in the blooming garb of spring;

Jesus is fairer, Jesus is purer,

Who makes the woeful heart to sing.

Fair is the sunshine, fairer still the moonlight,

And all the twinkling starry host;

Jesus shines brighter, Jesus shines purer

Than all the angels heav'n can boast.

Beautiful Savior! Lord of all the nations!

Son of God and Son of man!

Glory and honor, praise, adoration,

Now and forevermore be Thine.

San Bernardino

Yesterday I climbed another mountain with the same friend from church I climbed the last one. This time our goal was the 10,649 ft summit of Mt. San Bernardino. The climb was 16 miles round trip with a 4,600 ft elevation gain. Mt. San Bernardino is the most prominent peak visible from the Inland Empire where I live and go to school. I've wanted to climb it for a long time and I was not disappointed by the hike.

About halfway up, looking southeast toward the summit.

A mountain stream.

This picture was taken looking west from near the summit. Through the haze you can see the grid of streets in the cities of the Inland Empire, the street at center is Baseline. There's an interesting monument near the top dedicated to Col. Henry Washington, a surveyor who erected a marker, an "Initial Point," near the top of the mountain in 1852. This marker was used to partition all of the land in Southern California in a rectangular system. You can read the interesting story here.

Looking north to Big Bear Lake. The solar observatory on the lake is visible as a white dot on the right.

At the summit. Mt. San Gorgonio, highest point in southern California behind me. I climbed it last September.

Coming down I found this patch of interesting flowers very popular with the honey bees.

"You will find something far greater in the woods than you will find in books. Stones and trees will teach you that which you will never learn from masters."

- Bernard of Clairvaux, the mountain's namesake