There is something more than a little disconcerting about scaling an active volcano, especially in Southern Chile, home to several of the world’s most lively firespitters. “What if it blows?,” is pretty much the only thing you think about.
But as it turns out, in the case of Volc??n Villarrica, near Puc??n, (South America’s outdoor adventure capital), there are far more hazards to concern oneself with along the journey to the 9,340-foot summit.
There was, for instance, the Israeli tourist we all just watched fall 100-feet or so down the ice and snow not two minutes after we all put on our crampons for the two-hour glacier portion of the climb. The only thing that stopped him was the rocks (he was O.K.). And speaking of rocks, they fall often. As we meticulously trek away through the precarious snow conditions, it seems as though God himself lugs a volcanic stone or two down the mountainside every 20 minutes or so, just for his own amusement. I can’t say I share the joke, personally.
After a four-hour climb, we reached the summit unscathed, only to be greeted by the menacing growl of the nose-hair splitting sulfuric gases that emit from its mouth like burps of a giant. The sound itself
provokes a flight or fight response (I prefer to fly), but the gas and heat that spews from the mouth of Villarrica are even more scary.
The gaseous smoke slaps you across the face like a woman scorned, and chokes you like a piece of steak down the wrong pipe.
“What am I doing here?” is pretty much the only thing I’m thinking about now, with “Get me down,” coming in a close second. But the view is nice.
— Kevin Raub