La Malinche

La Malinche 4461m/ 14,636′

International– Mexico

Total Time: Half a day

Distance: 13 km/ 8.1 miles

Elevation Gain: 1360 m / 4450′

Crux: Class 2

Trailhead: Centro Vacacional IMSS Malintzi

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La Malinche and Pico de Orizaba were my first big mountains outside of the United States. Only a year after climbing 14ers in California and Colorado, I wanted to try my hand at bigger summits to the south. Pico de Orizaba at 18,491′ is the third highest mountain in North America behind Denali and Mount Logan, although far easier given its’ southern location and straightforward glacier travel. I attempted the two mountains in March of 2012 on a short 5 day trip to Mexico, using Orizaba Mountain Guides for both peaks. My guide Roberto picked me up in the Mexico City Airport after an easy 3.5 hour flight, with immigration and customs being a breeze thanks to their English proficiency. Roberto was the head guide for the company, and I was a bit surprised to find out that I would be with him personally the entire trip. Built like a retired linebacker and always smiling, I liked him immediately and my anxiety about my first solo climbing trip melted away. We left Mexico City in a heavy rain with lightning arcing across the sky. We crossed a mountain pass over 10,000′ and the rain stopped as we crested over. The fading light shone across Popocatepetl and Itzaccihuatl, the second and third highest mountains in Mexico. Both had a light dusting of snow from the storm, leaving quite the first impression on me my first few hours in the country. We stopped for dinner in a small town on the way to La Malinche for dinner, and I had a thin marinated meat with guacamole. I had forgotten to ask for no ice for my drink, and of course didn’t remember that that could be a potential issue until I had finished my meal… We stopped at a store to pick up some food for the next day, then drove to a complex of cabins near the trailhead of La Malinche. The full amenity cabins were at nearly 10,000′, and I decided to try taking Diamox to try and help with the effects of the altitude, more worried about Orizaba than La Malinche, which was barely higher than Mount Whitney. After staying up a bit longer to talk about the gameplan for the next morning, we went into our respective rooms to head to sleep, with a planned alpine start the next morning.

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My first night in Mexico was one of the worst I’ve had in the mountains. Exhausted from the travel, I expected to fall asleep immediately and had taken a melatonin before bed. But two hours later I was wide awake, and took a Benadryl to try and get what little sleep I could for the rest of the night. Another 30 minutes passed without luck, so I got up to use the en suite bathroom. Dim light shone in from the outside, so I didn’t bother to turn on the light as I made my way into the small 3×3′ bathroom. As I started to urinate, I felt the most intense wave of dizziness I had ever experienced in my life. Without any chance to react, my vision blackened and I felt myself falling. I blindly reached out to try and catch myself. Unfortunately I reached out for the only wall in the tiny bathroom that wouldn’t work- an open shower stall to my left. I crashed through the shower, hitting my face on the opposite wall with the full force of the fall, crumbling into a heap on the wet floor. Had I not been nearly unconscious when I hit, it probably would have really hurt. But I was completely out, and regained my senses after what I’m guessing was a few minutes later. I crawled on my hands and knees back to bed, somewhat amazed I didn’t wake Roberto in what must have been an incredibly loud crash. As I lay there trying to figure out what the hell had just happened, my bowels went into a full revolt. I jumped out of bed, this time turning on the lights getting to the toilet just in time. As I experienced what can only be described as explosive diarrhea, I looked around the now lit room, shocked to see a startling amount of blood. There was a trail leading from the bathroom to the bed, with the pillow saturated in blood. A large blood of blood filled the shower floor. Looking in the mirror, I had formed blood clots stuck in my beard, and after finishing on the toilet, started rinsing my face to find the source. Aside from my nose, I had an large laceration on my lip, and it looked like I had bitten straight through. After mopping up some of the blood I laid back down, hoping to even get just a few hours to salvage the horrible, horrible night. But my GI tract had other plans, and within 5 minutes I was back in the bathroom, emptying what little I had left in my body. Less than 12 hours in Mexico and I already had Travelers Diarrhea! I decided to nip this in the bud fast and took a Cipro, Doxycycline and Loperamide all at once. It seemed to work as I laid down and actually fell asleep, getting about 3 hours before our 5:30AM wake up time.

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When I got the wake up call from Roberto, I sheepishly headed for breakfast, having to explain how I acquired a deep gash in my face overnight. I was quite embarrassed and felt like a bit of a fraud, billing myself as experienced at altitude, yet unable to handle a night at 10,000′ without losing a half liter of blood in the process. He seemed unfazed although a bit more concerned about the diarrhea with plenty of hiking ahead of us for the trip. Thankfully my stomach stayed silent through breakfast, and we left the cabin just before sunrise. We started up in a fairly lush forest, with robins and small wood peckers flying between the slender pine trees.

I didn’t know much on the statistics of the hike and was surprised to learn it was only about 8 miles round trip, but steep with over 4,000′ of elevation gain. Either way, if I couldn’t handle this, I had no business on Orizaba. Roberto’s pace was slow, far slower than I was used to going, but it would be something I would adapt on future big mountains with a steady and methodical pace. As we broke treeline, we saw a few other parties working up the scree slopes above.

Roberto took us to the grassy slopes on the right avoiding the scree, and we quickly began passing all other groups struggling up the loose slope. Itza and Popo dominated the view to the west, and made for an incredible sight as we climbed higher.

We wound up being the second party to summit on the day, passing nearly everyone on the scree and taking 3:20 from the cabin. The summit of La Malinche was a jagged cirque of towers with a caldera blown out on the side, similar to Humphreys Peak in Arizona and Mount Saint Helens in Washington. Roberto said he was impressed by how I climbed (something I desperately needed to hear after my horrible night) and that he thought we could summit Orizaba a day ahead of schedule. Clouds rolled in while we were on the summit, and we lost sight of Itza, Popo and Orizaba.

After a snack and some photos we descended, boot skiing down the scree slope and dropping 1500′ in what seemed like only a few minutes. The formerly slow and steady Roberto was now flying down the slope, his mass and inertia sending him down at an impressive speed. I could barely keep up! We made it back to the cabins in about 2 hours from the summit, and Roberto headed straight for the park restaurant for a Modelo, “the cream of Mexican beers!” Both of us feeling good about the days success we swapped mountain stories, Roberto sharing his dreams about the company, big days in the mountains and his vice for cervezas. After finishing our drinks, we left La Malinche for the town of Tlachichuca, gateway town for Pico de Orizaba. He dropped me at my hotel where I could rinse the rest of the blood out of my beard and I walked around the small town exploring, most of the locals giving a wide berth to the ragged traveler who looks like he was just in a fist fight. After a dinner of lasagna in a small local restaurant, I headed back to my hotel, with plans to try and summit Orizaba a day early and use the extra day to explore some Aztec ruins nearby.

Continued…