Climbing Aconcagua

I first heard the coughing at around 2 a.m. My tent companion, Rex, was hacking and gurgling uncontrollably as he stumbled from our tent toward a makeshift medical center nearby. I knew at once this was the end of his Andean journey.

Three days earlier Rex, myself and our group leader Forrest “Woody” Sims had embarked on our ascent of Mount Aconcagua in Argentina, which at 22,834 feet is the highest peak not just in the Americas, but also in the southern and western hemispheres.

Now, after spending only a day at base camp, our party was reduced to just two. Rex was suffering from high altitude pulmonary edema, or HAPE — a condition in which the lungs fill with liquid and death is imminent unless you descend immediately.

Dryden Liddle Approach to Base Camp at Plaza Argentina

Despite its reputation as a non-technical high altitude climb, less than a third of the thousands of climbers who attempt Aconcagua each year actually make it. Many succumb to the cruel effects of the “viento blanco,” or white wind, which rages at over 100 miles per hour. Others suffer from altitude sickness and are evacuated by helicopter or, in less fortunate cases such as Rex's, on the back of a mule. A freak-show of weary climbers with black frost bitten noses and fingers is often seen shuffling down the mountain.

Our Aconcagua climb had started in much more pleasant conditions: A gentle three-day hike through the Vacas Valley, a less-trodden path that avoids the crowds of climbers seen on the usual route. We followed the Vacas River through a dusty wilderness surrounded by grassy hillsides and towering golden-red cliffs. And as we enjoyed our first views of the mountain we saw a condor soaring high in the thermals above.

But those picture-postcard images gradually changed to a glacial lunar landscape of dirt covering deep icy glaciers as we left the Vacas Valley. When we arrived at base camp, we checked in with the ranger and the medical tent where a doctor checked our pulses, which were all slightly elevated, and our oxygen saturation levels, which were low as a result of the thin air. So we rested.

Reduced to a party of two, we began our gradual ascent from base camp the next day following a “climb high, sleep low” philosophy, which involved carrying heavy loads up the mountain to cache at our next camp, and returning to sleep at the camp below. This gives your body time to adjust to the altitude and lightens the load as you move up the mountain.

Throughout our trip we found ourselves on the same schedule as a friendly, but boisterous group of Americans making a documentary on climbing Aconcagua. They filmed us on various occasions and we hope to star in "Aconcagua, the movie."

After another rest day, we left base camp and moved to Camp One from where we would carry a load to Camp Two—our high camp. As we zigzagged up the mountain over endless rocky terrain, we both felt breathless as our bodies adjusted to the thinning air.

Another carry up the mountain moved us to Camp Two where, exhausted, we prepared dinner and tried to sleep—not easy at over 19,000 feet—in preparation for our summit attempt early the next morning.

That night, I was woken by strange voices and a frenzy of activity around camp.

“Help…we need…rescue!” pleaded a voice in broken English. “Do you have a radio?” another voice asked.

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