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Bolivian Andes Bachelorette Expedition (B.A.B.E.) by Molly Douma - added January 30, 2007
When my friend Jill said she wanted her bachelorette party to take place in the mountains of a Spanish speaking country, her two sisters and I laughed for a moment until we realized she was serious. Our nods of agreement phased into an excited frenzy of locating atlases and travel guides.
"I guess we're not going to Vegas, so how about Las Leignes...we can ski and..." started Meghan.
"How about Bolivia?" suggested Jill.
"Haven't you always wanted to check out Patagonia? I have friends..." said Robin.
"It would be perfect winter weather in Bolivia in August, we could go then," said Jill.
"Any chance you could find some Spanish speaking people in New Zealand? We could ski..." I proposed.
"I have wanted to go back to Bolivia since I was there years ago," said Jill.
So, it was decided. It was March, Jill was getting married in October, and we were going to the Bolivian Andes in August. The four of us Salt Lake City transplants, sisters Jill, Robin, and Meghan, and I discussed how we would forgo strippers and tequila shots for crampons and ice axes. From Robin's home/office in Snowbird, we browsed the Internet and learned a little about the winter weather in Bolivia. We could expect safe, stable snow for mountaineering but probably nothing fresh for skiing. The logistics involved with taking skis for a three-week trip were slightly complicated anyway so we lightened our load before we even left. After several rounds of coffee we had set some pliable goals: attempt three peaks and 20,000 feet. Since none of us besides Jill had ever even had crampons on for more than an hour, we decided that our alpine mountaineering expertise would be much enhanced by a guide service. Robin fired off a few emails to expedition outfitters while the rest of us created scenarios involving the bachelorette at 20,000 feet in lingerie.
Phase to El Alto, Bolivia - the highest altitude and fastest growing city in the world, which overlooks the country's capital, La Paz. The El Alto flea market was our requested side trip en route to our base camp in the Cordillera Real mountain range.
Fortunately for Jill, lingerie evolved into stylish disco clothes purchased at the El Alto flea market where there's no such thing as retro. Exiting El Alto with our bags of cut-rate bargain clothing, our $500 budgets dented by about $2 each, we were happy though not too forward-thinking about the extra weight in our backpacks. It didn't really matter, though, since we were there and B.A.B.E. had begun. The several hour ride from El Alto to our basecamp was a good time to assess where we were going and what we'd done to get there.
After our initial meeting at Robin's house we got a hasty email response from Damian Benegas of the Patagonia Brothers out of Berkeley, CA. It just happened to be part of his plan to swing through Salt Lake the following week. Damian, an exuberant Americanized Argentinean and his crew of climber cohorts showed us a slideshow of trips in the Bolivian Andes and we were sold in about four minutes flat. Our trip would include three peaks, including the 20,000 foot Huanya Potosi, over the course of about ten days. Damian saw the uniqueness of guiding four girls rather than the typical, European male contingent. He was psyched that we planned to document the entire trip with photos and journals to return favors to our gear sponsors—ISIS (formerly JUNO) outerwear for women, Black Diamond, Bolle, and Cascade Designs. Because we already had complete faith in the competence and experience of Damian and his assistant guide, Eduardo, and because of B.A.B.E's sisterly bond, we made a strong team.
Little Illusion (1)
 The "warm-up" 17,000 foot peak was good practice for familiarizing ourselves with the dynamics of our three person rope teams, using ice tools, and crampons, walking in the proper duck-like manner, leaping crevasses, and staying several rope lengths ahead of the German group whose breath we could feel on our necks. Damian commented that he had never before heard so much chit chat on a climb but as long as we could catch our breath every so often we could keep talking. The final summit switched from snow and ice to a 5-6 rock climb. At the top, the perfectly clear winter skies clouded over in the typical Andes way. Looking out over the 360 degree view of snowcapped mountain majesty, we four felt the elation of our first summit as well as pangs of exhaustion. We studied the effects of altitude-swollen faces and hands, lack of hunger, and excessive thirst. As Damian captured our every move on tape, he announced that he was happy for us "Amazon women" who had summited in good time. We thanked him for the "compliment" but explained that Amazon wasn't such a good word choice, but B.A.B.E would do.
Pequenyo Alpamayo (2)
After extensive hula hoop training in the Wasatch Range in Utah, Robin freehoops the summit of Pequenyo Alpamayo-17,500 feet. Robin conquered her fear of exposure on the knife edge ridge and dramatic rock face downclimb en route to the summit.
A little history on the hula hoops: several weeks before leaving for Bolivia, Robin and I hike a Utah peak with our hula hoops, figuring hooping was an excellent summit activity. Robin became particularly attached to her hoop and announced that she wanted us all to take one to South America. I could picture the photos...Anyway, when we arrived in La Paz, Robin explained to Damian that our only problem in our travels was that we were not allowed to bring our hoops on the plane. Moments later, Damian dashed through traffic, yelling about how he was headed to the market. He showed up an hour later with PVC piping, duct tape, and mini weights. Voila, hula hoops.
Huanya Potosi (3)
After a fitful night's sleep at the 17,500 foot basecamp, we woke at 3am to take on our big daddy mountain. We put on every piece of fleece, down, and Gore-Tex clothing we brought and attempted to defreeze while marching towards the rising sun. Just as the crisp day broke, we were faced with some of the steepest pitches we had encountered. To add to the difficulty, most of the day was mentally and physically rough; due to the altitude mixed with the residuals of the bus ride bachelorette party from two nights before. Our energy and strength had to overcome our nausea and fatigue. With some extra positive energy from Meghan, the youngest B.A.B.E., we eventually rallied on up to the summit. We were just in time for a minor snow flurry. We were on top of our worlds, higher than we'd ever been, with the orange haze of the sunset lighting our descent.
Macchu Picchu: One last misadventure
Jill's final wish for her bachelorette party was to see Macchu Picchu. We left Bolivia via bus and boat across beautiful Lake Titicaca to arrive in Cuzco, Peru.
After reconnecting with the world via email and kicking up our feet at coffee shops and bars for a day, we were ready for action again. Our timeline wasn't the best—we had three days, total, to get to Macchu Picchu (which was several hours away from Cuzco), return to Cuzco, fly to La Paz, and fly home. We had to rule out hiking the Inca Trail since that would take four days at least. The trains were on strike...we learned that the hard way when we were greeted at the train station by gun toting guerilla types. Since, we figured, the shortest distance between us and Macchu Picchu was a straight line, and the straightest line was the train tracks, that was the route we would take. With full packs, we headed out on the rocky, rugged, garbage-strewn, 18 mile trek. Although the canyon setting was stunning, mostly we saw our shoes, the train tracks and human waste as it was difficult to look up without the weight of our packs tipping us over. We camped in a jungle-like setting and were bitten by the biggest black flies on the planet. We woke early to walk the final mile to the bus which delivered us to the entry gate at Macchu Picchu.
Since no one else was dumb enough to hike the train tracks, and the only other entries to Macchu Picchu were from the Inca Trail or via an expensive helicopter flight, there were only about a dozen tourists at the typically crowded site. We practically had the place to ourselves to observe the ancient architecture and lush beauty. The only thing that weighed on our minds was the sequel to the horror show hike on the train tracks. It was as bad as we thought with more monster flies, shin splints, and a sudden heat wave but at least we found beer at the end. And, we had done everything we set out to do.
Update: Jill's wedding bash was a month after we returned, and she got pregnant six days after the event. She now has an amazing and active baby girl. Plans for B.A.B.E. II are already under way!
For more first-hand information on Macchu Picchu,
check out Joe Mazzarella's Travel Journal
from the Inca Trail.
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