Ometepe – Day 3: Climbing Concepción
OMETEPE
Day 3: Climbing Concepción
January 11, 2023
PART I
This would be the the first time since Amelia and I started travelling together that we’d split up. I’d be trekking up volcano Concepción, while she would be visiting the San Ramón waterfalls, having not been to a waterfall yet during this trip.
Me being me, I wanted to do the most challenging of activities everywhere I’d visit. I know myself – I wouldn’t be able to live with my FOMO otherwise. Climbing Concepción, it turns out, is a difficult feat according to most blogs I’d read and people I’d met who had done it. I had heard of many who climbed halfway up Concepción only to turn back because it was too difficult to go on or because the views were too poor. One blog even claimed Concepción was harder than the Lost City trek in Colombia, the Machu Picchu trek in Peru, and the Acatenango trek in Guatemala – all of which had nearly killed me.
But I couldn’t say no to the challenge. I wanted to do this for two reasons: to prove to myself I could do it, and to actually summit yet another volcano – my eighth one!
Into the Jungle
Bright and early, I woke up with Aníbal – a local guide – awaiting me by the hostel entrance. I rode on his motorbike all the way to the northern ring until we reached the base of the imposing volcano looming right in front of us. The summit was already shrouded in clouds – something very common during this season.
The initial part was a bit steep but nothing too bad. Scrambling over black gravel and rocks, I quickly started gaining momentum, pushed forward by the screams of howler monkeys and capuchins leaping through the branches above. After just twenty minutes, I was panting, drenched in sweat, and already regretting my choice – something I’ve grown used to doing over the years. There is nothing more Maltese than complaining and whining, after all. But as always, SWSD: stop whining, start doing.
By the time we reached our first checkpoint – ironically the official park entrance – I was exhausted. We sat down for a few minutes, looking out at the southern half of the island with Maderas in all its glory. Behind us lay Concepción’s base, the rest swallowed up by thick clouds. Somehow, not seeing the summit made me feel better.
The Green and Cloudy Volcano
At the entrance, another hiker and his guide joined us. They looked fresher than I did, and it wasn’t long before I was eating their dust. Regardless, I kept at it.
As the forest thickened, Aníbal explained that this area is home to one of the largest populations of yellow-naped parrots. These birds roost in river tamarind trees but are highly sought after as pets, which has devastated populations across Central America. Today they’re classified as endangered. Along with four other Ometepe guides, Aníbal volunteers in conservation projects. They monitor nests, climb trees with harnesses, check eggs and fledglings, and treat chicks infected by torsalos (botfly larvae) using a special cream. Right on!
While we didn’t get to see any of the parakeets, the volcano’s incredible biodiversity left me want for nothing, with a huge variety of plants and flowers keeping me in awe throughout!
The Grind
The more we climbed, the more drained I became. Aníbal assured me it was normal and that I wasn’t going too slow.
He told me about a Thai athlete who once completed the full trek up and down in just three hours – compared to the slowest hiker he guided, a Dutch girl who took twelve hours. She implored him to go back and he had to carry her on his shoulder for some thirty minutes, telling her that the summit was “just ahead” in order to push her on – a white lie considering it was still three hours away. All the same, it worked!
At the main viewpoint, where many decide to turn back, we had a short break. Here, Anibal told me a bit about his life. He had lived his entire life in Ometepe and he’s never left the island – feeling that he already has everything he needs here. With his father being estranged and living in a different community on the other side of the island, he grew up with his mother and older sister. Throughout their childhood, his mother worked in agriculture and provided for them single-handedly. After he grew up, he reconnected with his father (though their relationship is civil at best) and his step-siblings, with whom he has a great connection. Now that he’s married, he has to fight off his mother’s insistence at building a family – something he wants to do once he has his house in order. In the meantime, he works as a guide and as a carpenter and he leads a happy, idyllic life – having just taken up baseball as a hobby.
The next part of the trek featured less trees and more low-lying shrubs, the heat and elevation gain unforgiving. Luckily, the clouds soon provided us with a fresh jolt of wind and energy – the rain and condensation a much welcome respite from the sun’s anger. By this time, two other groups had reached us and surpassed as. It was a fifteen second burst of activity followed by a ten second break – an opportunity for me to catch my breath, wipe away the sweat and appreciate the view: the summit enshrouded by a vast expanse of grey clouds and Poorman’s Umbrella plants carpeting the slopes, giving the mountainside an almost prehistoric look.
Finally, we got to the last part. Like always, I started to damn every single cigarette I’ve ever smoked. My burn book also featured anyone who grew up surrounded by mountains and went on hikes and treks before breakfast. I hated everyone and everything with a passion as I scrambled over the loose rocks that threatened to trip me at every single step. I did everything in my power to climb the few metres that stood between me and the by now, bare and cloudy summit. But I pushed on.
The Summit: A Cloud-Capped Victory
I pushed on, and I did it. I friggin’ did it. The five groups that had started after us and reached the top before us cheered for me as I stumbled to the top and immediately sat down, trying to cling on to life itself.
Once at the top, it took only a few seconds for me to appreciate the view. We could only see the rim of the crater and the mountainside in front of us – the rest was just clouds and more clouds. But it didn’t matter one bit to me – this was exactly what I had been expecting. Aníbal kept on apologising to me – as if it were his own fault that the view was clouded up. I had done it for the challenge, to prove to myself that I could actually do it. And, looking back, I was sure that the climb to Acatenango was by far worse. That said, it was extremely fulfilling.
My reward for the trek was the lunch box the hostel staff had prepared for me. It wasn’t anything special but, given the intensity of the climb, that sandwich tasted like the best meal of my life. As we lunched, the rest of the summiteers started on their way down, and, now fuelled by my measly calorific intake, I too was ready to go back down – my lashes and hair covered by frozen condensation.
The Sprint Down: Volcano Speed Run
Ahead of us were some other four hours of downhill. But here’s the thing: downhills are my forte. I started racing down – Aníbal having a hard time to keep up.
I practically ran down the entire mountainside, falling some eight times on the slippery mud along the way, and, when we got to a black sandy trail that looked pretty much like the one at Acatenango’s summit, I knew this would be an adrenaline rush unlike any other. The sand gave way the second my foot stepped on it, propelling me further down, the momentum keeping me going – exactly like on Acatenango. It was so, so much fun!
We ran down the entire thing in no time at all, overtaking four of the five groups that had started their way down before us. Not before long, we were the leading ones. “He who climbs last, gets down first!” Aníbal had prophesised – and he was right! Shortly after, we were at the base yet again, our knees begging for us to stop and our feet moving out of their own volition.
In one hour and thirty minutes, we were back at the base – just fifteen minutes off the pro athlete’s record. My knees were destroyed, my body beaten, but my pride sky-high!
PART II
Fire and Rain
Back at the hostel, I found Amelia looking fresh and sitting comfortably by the table having lunch. She had been to the waterfall, showered, and had a nap.
While I was hauling myself up volcanic slopes, Amelia decided she’d had enough of ash and heat. Instead of chasing fire, she went chasing water. Her chosen target: the San Ramón waterfall, tucked into the rainforest folds of Maderas. The path there couldn’t have been more different from mine. While I had a tough trek over sunburnt rocks, she had a ride on her scooter through green canopies and dripping vines, at the end of which a fifty-metre waterfall tumbling down a cliff revealed itself.
I had read that for the island’s communities, Maderas’ waters are more than just scenic. They irrigate farms, feed villages, and once carried a sacred weight. Indigenous peoples across Central America often revered springs and waterfalls as spiritual thresholds – living counterparts to the petroglyphs found on the island. With only one day of roaming around to do, I had gone with the latter – only I didn’t stumble upon either.
As I lay there – drained and stinky after a long day of hiking – I could only imagine her experience. Getting to pristine waterfall along with other backpackers milling around the pool below – shoes abandoned, feet dangling in icy water. At the end of the day, she shook droplets from her radiant hair, whereas I shook volcanic grit from my socks.
I can’t say I didn’t feel any animosity towards her at that point. Especially when I realised I had a massive cavity in my tooth and she just shrugged it off. I guess that might’ve been karma for me dismissing her worries about her wisdom tooth back in Utila.
Trippy Treats
After showering and having a nap myself, it was time for yet another adventure. We riled up all the snacks we could get our hands on and went to the roof of the hostel.
Here, a couch and a bunch of hammocks were awaiting us – the cushions and wall art already trippy and psychedelic. We made ourselves comfortable and took out the cosmic brownies we had obtained the previous day. We started off by biting a half each. I set my ‘Lights and Limerence’ playlist on, which we deemed best suited for the occasion, featuring Cigarettes After Sex, Soko, and Lana Del Rey amongst others.
After some thirty minutes, Amelia was already giggling away, pointing towards a lobster on the now-moving ceiling – which to me was quite clearly lobster-less and stationary. I did feel comfortable though – too comfortable. I was super, suuuuper comfortable. Then we both got the munchies and the giggles, Amelia’s hallucinations keeping us entertained throughout.
Whilst it was fun, this wasn’t really what I had been expecting. It felt like a somewhat more powerful high you get from weed – something I don’t quite enjoy. Mostly cause I get a lot of side effects like palpitations and nausea. But also cause, somehow, for some reason, I always have this inner voice yelling at me, telling me to get off my ass and start doing something instead of just lying around being useless and unproductive. Perhaps that’s me being indoctrinated by society. Or maybe that’s me being unable to relax. I don’t know.
After giving up on sharing her experience, I decided to take my other half. I waited and waited, but still, it was just the chill kinda high for me. My friend from Underwater Vision, with whom I shared the story, told me the same had happened to her and that in order to get a good trip, she had to do what’s referred to as ‘lemon tekking’ – using citric acid to effectively release the psychedelic compounds from the fun-gus.
We spent about three hours watching reels, laughing our asses off, and snacking on anything and everything we had handy. Getting up to pee was a nightmare every single time – especially with my overly sore body and my mind being spiritually connected to the couch. I swear, I’ve never experienced such comfort as I did whilst on the psychadelic pralines. So much so that at one point, we concluded we were one with the couch. So, so comfortable.