Hasta el Antisana y Más Allá 

2025 Ecuador Semester Blog #5 (Final Blog)

Welcome to the final blog of the Ecuador semester 2025. My heart is heavy as I write this last entry, sad to say goodbye to all the adventures and beautiful people. But all things come to an end, and here we are. After three and a half months, we are all emerging, changed, with a backpack full of new skills, a heart brimming with memories, and a dear found family we can always go to.

Since our last stay at Palugo, we have ventured again into the vast Andes mountains. We have rock climbed in Cojitambo, backpacked from Cotopaxi to Antisana, mountaineered on the incredible glaciers, and then shouldered our bags to return to Palugo to celebrate our adventures and say farewell.

The magic of the mountains has given us many gifts, and we have returned with wisdom, inspiration, and so many hard but beautiful memories.

ROCKCLIMBING IN COJITAMBO – November 15-19

After our stay in Palugo, we woke before dawn for an eight-hour bus ride to Cojitambo, the home of Davicho and Marga, friends of Kroka and Palugo and professional climbers. We were welcomed into their warm little home with so much love and enthusiasm; it was truly a pleasure to find a home there for four days as we learned about rock climbing and explored the area. We have varying levels of climbing experience in our group—from experienced climbers to people who have only climbed once or twice—but on our first day we walked fifteen minutes to the nearby cliffs and learned safety skills before trying the climbs with the support of our teachers and hosts. Afterwards, we hiked up to the top of the cliff, where we got a gorgeous view and a lesson about the Cañari people who used to inhabit that place.

The next day, we moved up to a multi-pitch climb, practicing new knots, switching ropes, belaying each other from halfway up the rock face, and then rappelling down again. This was in preparation for the next two days, when we broke up into groups to climb multi-pitches ranging from 5 to 10 pitches and varying in difficulty. After deciding what level we felt excited to climb, we split into pairs and were joined by an experienced climber—Marga, Davicho, or one of their climbing-guide friends. Using the skills we had been practicing, we climbed huge cliffs, higher than we had ever rockclimbed before. Multi-pitches were new to all of us and sometimes scary and hard, but it was so amazing to be up on the cliff face with a trusted expert to make us feel safe. Being up so high and using our bodies in so many new tiny ways was incredible. For many of us it was the hardest climb we had ever experienced, and also one of the craziest, most incredible days of the semester.

We broke into two groups for climbing, so on the day that we stayed at the house, we all participated in a minga to help out Marga and Davicho and thank them for being such wonderful hosts and teachers. They were building a new house, so for our minga we helped build the walls. Instead of using wood and insulation, we constructed a frame of bamboo (from the neighbor’s yard) and filled it in with a mixture of clay, sand, molasses, and agave fiber! We all enjoyed the process of mixing the mud with our bare feet and then pressing it onto the bamboo, all while chatting and listening to our favorite songs.

We were all sad to say goodbye as we packed up and boarded a public bus for another long travel day to Cotopaxi.

BACKPACKING FROM COTOPAXI TO ANTISANA – November 20-26 

A song that kept us going on hard days of hiking:
We are going, heaven knows where we are going,
But we know the way
We will get there, heaven knows how we will get there,
But we know we will
It will be hard we know, and the road will be muddy and rough,
But we’ll get there, heaven knows when we will get there,
But we know we will

After our travel day, we spent one night at the beautiful Cotopaxi Cara Sur Refugio, a refuge run by a former semester parent. With beautiful views of the mountains and warm beds, we spent the night and morning preparing for our first leg of backpacking. We shuffled around our gear and packed up our large, heavy bags, ready for our long walk through the mountains. Just as we were shouldering our bags and preparing to start up the trail, we looked up to see a condor circling our group and then dipping down into the valley. Our expedition now blessed by this huge, magnificent bird, we set off. Not long after beginning our hike, it began to hail, and we stopped under our tarp for lunch as we experienced mountain weather for the first time. Our first camp was made at the base of Cotopaxi, where we were given breathtaking views of snowy slopes and glaciers.

The next day we woke early and began up a huge slope, where we learned how much the altitude truly affected us. Up so high, each step is difficult, and it is easy to lose energy. Many rests and gasping breaths brought us to the top, where we continued hiking along huge dunes of black lava rock. Next, we passed through grassy hills dotted with huge, craggy rock formations. Each new terrain was breathtaking, like something out of another world, and made hiking through these mountains a joy. That afternoon we again saw condors, this time seven or eight at a time, circling us, then riding the wind away, or landing on the cliffside. We had to stop and marvel at them—the graceful, powerful rulers of the mountains.

The next day the group solo began. Group solo means the instructors leave and trust us to expedition on our own. The instructors followed behind or ahead of us but limited contact except for brief bi-hourly radio check-ins. We woke up to their tent gone and packed up camp on our own, then set off. Without the instructors there, we had to make every decision on our own. This included big decisions like where to make camp but also smaller choices like how long and how often we would rest. As we walked, we fell into our own rhythm, walking slower and for longer between breaks. That day we walked along the road, moving through vast stretches of rocky fields and páramo grass. Sometimes we’d pass cars, and once we passed our instructors; we made sure to walk by single file and avert our eyes. As we reached our cut-off time, when we had to start making camp, we worked together to decide to stop a little early and then wake up early the next morning. Our decision-making was incredibly smooth and took everyone’s voice into account. That evening we held our own evening meeting, sharing intentions for the last three weeks and then gratitudes while running through a human archway.

During our solo, a few of our group members were feeling sick. This was definitely a challenge, but we worked together and took our friends’ gear and chose our pace and camps accordingly. On our way, we walked over windswept ridges and down into muddy swamps where a few of our friends sank thigh-deep into the muck. Good thing we were always wearing our muck boots and rain pants! The second day we got a bit lost and had to walk over a few extra ridges to get back on track, but we all stayed in good spirits and ended up close to our original camp goal. Our navigators truly did such a wonderful job, leading us through identically grassy ridges with no paths or roads in sight. On the third morning of solo, we joined back with our instructors, closer and more confident in ourselves than before. This group solo time brought our group together and showed us we are capable of expeditioning on our own. Some strengths that stood out were our thoughtful communication, our consensus decision-making, our rhythm, and our constant positivity.

We had planned to finish walking that day, but due to sickness we ended up stopping early. This was a little disappointing, but we enjoyed the extra free time, laying together in a long line in the sun and eating our extra tortillas. This, however, made the next day one of the most difficult. We had been expecting a rest day but instead spent a long morning breaking trail up grassy hills and missing lunch because the extra day hadn’t been planned. When we finally arrived at Antisana basecamp, we were crying. After the hard morning, we recovered with showers in the icy glacial stream and a delicious and much-needed early Thanksgiving dinner.

STEPS
Each step is a challenge and a gift
The earth beneath me
Sometimes holding me
Often collapsing beneath
My doubt and weakness
But pull up your head
And let faith lift you up
Because your body is so strong
And you can always
Do more than you think
Take it step by step
And let your faith
Be winged shoes
To carry you through the journey
~Poem by Lucia

MOUNTAINEERING AT ANTISANA November 27-29

We made our basecamp at 4,500 meters, about an hour’s walk from the base of the glacier. Overlooking us was the old and beautiful glacier-covered Antisana, a giant volcano covered in ice and snow. Below us we could see the highlands spread out—the hills and small mountains, as well as Cotopaxi, where we had come from. This was our highest camp yet, and we certainly felt the effects of the altitude. Even a trip from the tent to the kitchen could be winding, and our bodies felt a little strange being that high up.

We were joined at the basecamp by Mathias Dammer, Davicho, and Juan Vaca, a mountain guide and friend of Palugo’s. They would be our teachers during mountain school for the next three days. The next morning we set out for the mountain. Before we even reached the glacier, there were things to learn. We practiced “French” and “patito” walks in our new mountaineering boots. These techniques would be used once we got to the ice. At the base of the glacier we put on the rest of our gear: sunglasses, helmets, gaiters, and crampons. With the sharp crampons we walked on the ice, getting used to the slopes and trusting our feet.

The next day we got the rest of our gear—harnesses and ice axes—and climbed up the dry ice (glacier without snow on top). The ice axes act as a third point of contact while walking, and as a tool for securing ourselves on the mountain and climbing up steep slopes. Up on the wet ice (snowy ice), we practiced self-arrest, sledding down the mountain on our bellies, butts, and backs, and then stopping ourselves with ice axes. Our final skill we practiced was rope-team hiking. This is when you attach your harnesses to a rope and walk together so that if one person slips, the others can stop them. We had learned all our skills, and our next challenge would be hiking up as far as we could and attempting to summit.

We packed up our gear and then went to bed early, prepared for a 1 AM wake-up. As we crawled out of our tents, pulling on a second pair of socks, we saw a clear view of the mountain and a sea of sparkling stars. At the base of the glacier we clipped into rope teams, each with a guide, and set out using the skills we had practiced the past two days. As we walked, our headlamps made the snow glitter all around us. As we walked, the sun began to rise, casting a pink and gold glow over the vista spread out below us. From the mountain we could see Cotopaxi, Chimborazo, Illinizas, and hundreds of small hills and mountains spreading out into the distance. The rays of sunlight contrasted against the indigo shadow that Antisana cast over part of the valley. All around us the glaciers shimmered white and blue. It was one of the most breathtaking and incredible scenes of our trip.

We climbed up to 5,200 meters, where we turned around because of changing snow conditions. It would have been incredible to summit, but if we learned anything during mountain school, it was that the summit isn’t the point. What mattered was the five-day hike through the páramo where we got to know the mountains. What mattered was the journey up the mountain and being safe and together. What mattered was accepting the gifts that Antisana gave us, like the bright stars and the glorious morning. Those things were more important than “defeating the mountain.” As our guides said,

“The mountain gives you what you need, not what you want.”

Later we learned that our basecamp neighbors who had climbed that morning had summited, but because they were up in the clouds, they had missed the beautiful sunrise.

Before me stands risen from the depths of planet earth to kiss the sky, a glassy reflection of my inner self. Minuscule, I am, in perspective, but constructed the same, with tensions and compressions, and icy streams like veins. Every step I ask a question, whether I could name it or not, and receive a thousand answers I must choose upon myself. Here stands Antisana, in need of no assistance, enticing me onwards with a moment of meaning, backlit by snow, shines an answer to existence.  ~Poem by Dorothy

RETURNING TO PALUGO FROM ANTISANA: November 30- December 2 

It’s time to move on
It’s time to get going
What lies ahead, we have no way of knowing
But under my feet, the grass is growing
It’s time to move on, it’s time to get going 

We had spent almost a week backpacking. We had spent our time with the mountain, then climbed up it. Our bodies suffered from head colds, too little sleep, aching limbs, and altitude exhaustion. We missed dry socks and warm beds. We were all homesick. It was time to return home—first to our Ecuador home, then to our real ones soon after. We put on our backpacks, taking on their familiar weight, and set out for three days of hiking to Palugo. No longer protected by the shadow of Antisana, the weather grew more drastic, and we hiked through rain, thunderstorms, and one night a dusting of snow! After our group solos, we students felt ready to help lead the group and make our own decisions, so on the first night we collectively planned to wake up at 4:30 AM so that we could make more progress before the rain came and get to Palugo sooner. That day we walked along a huge ridge, past herds of cows and horses, and misty fairylands, and finally down into lowlands, leaving the páramo behind. Our final day was a push to get to Palugo, first along old dirt roads and then the highways. Our feet hurt from hiking in rubber boots, and we were all exhausted, but we limited our breaks and pushed together. At lunch we had a feast of peanut butter and jelly, dried fruit, and snacks to finish off the last of the expedition food. We ended up walking along the route of our first bike trip, which was a nice way to return, bringing all our journeys full circle.

We were welcomed warmly back to our beloved Palugo and enjoyed showers, soft beds, and a slow evening at the Chozón.

At Palugo we would spend our last few days in Ecuador, completing final work, preparing for our celebration, enjoying our final days together, and saying farewell to members of our group and Palugo. Upon returning, there was an out-breath in the group. We have climbed our mountains; we have worked to create a community and family. We prepared a skit during the last few days, a gratitude to everyone who has supported us along the way, and a celebration of our adventures together. We have had a few final classes and nice evenings spent with the Dammer families.

On Sunday we performed our skit to an audience of the Dammers, instructors, San Clemente families, and other friends from our journeys. Afterwards, we shared gratitudes and gifts for each other and a potluck meal. On Monday we will pack up our bags and leave this beautiful place where we have created so many memories. Then we will spend a few days at Kroka, and after our graduation, return home, taking all we have learned with us.

She was like sea glass. Smooth, opaque, and rounded from the years of being swept through the sand. Her sharp edges had been dulled and her lungs seared by the water. You could no longer see through her. Beautiful she may have been called by others, but surely her spirit was broken. Only a few knew how much violence it took to create such gentleness on the outside. One step into the wild. One moment of complete clarity. One inhalation in. One hand taken hold of. The other hand taken hold of. One song of blessing. One moment of uncertainty. One moment of fear. One fallen tear. One gentle voice in the ear, “we are here.” One exhalation out. She is like a panel of stained glass. She captures the sun’s rays, harnesses them through her delicate being, and casts a soft glow of light over the world. Through her, you can see the beauty of existence. She is no longer sea glass. In a tight embrace of arms, where she is certain she can find a shoulder on which to cry or a voice to light the way, she can finally close her eyes, feel the tender squeeze of gratitude in her heart and ribs, and say for certain, “I am so worthy of this freedom.”  ~Reflection from Grace 

I remember unpacking my belongings over three months ago back at Kroka. I felt exhausted, nervous, and started counting down the 104 days until I would be home. Now I’m packing my duffle bag and feeling full of love, enthusiasm, inspiration, and authenticity. I am incredibly grateful for the big team of people that have come together to hold us during these three months. I know that each of them has sowed a seed in me that I can hardly wait to nurture and grow when I return home.  ~Reflection from Davis 

We only have a few final days together, and then we will go our separate ways and continue on our own journeys. It has been a wild time, filled with long, difficult days, so many smiles, songs, and laughter. We began as strangers, each with our own reasons for being here, but over the past three months we have created something beautiful—a family where we can always find joy and support, and whom we can trust to help us become who we need to be. Soon we will return to the world—to friends and family, politics, phones, and the troubles that we left behind—but we won’t return the same beings as we left. We have biked, packed into the mountains and through the night. We have entered the jungle and discovered the workings of the river and the wild creatures there. We have learned the ways of the páramo and tested our hearts on the icy glaciers of Antisana. We have pushed our bodies and minds in new ways and learned that we can keep going and keep growing. Now we say farewell, but these memories, lessons, and friends will last our lifetime.

Thank you for coming along on our adventures through this blog. It has been a true pleasure to tell the story of our journeys.

It has been an honor to be your scribe, 

Sincerely,

Ella