Mar 04 2013 Pacaya volcano Ascension

It was raining when we rented horses and colorful raincoats sold us to ascend the path that would place the volcano Pacaya. Alfonso, José Luis and I are rather moderate height, namely, low and with those plastic layers seemed the hobbits of the Lord of the Rings approaching Mordor. With the end of the trail disappeared trees, the sound of birds and rain.

I shuddered the first image of Pacaya. The lava had left a trail of black rock that covered the landscape. From there we had to continue on foot. We were accompanied by the inseparable Walter, commissioned to guide us through Guatemala and a local guide. We carry the entire crew and started walking on a rough surface and shearing. It was essential to tread carefully to avoid the cracks that formed the rock. The local guide told us a hole whose edge was tinged with a whitish substance. Sulfur was. We introduced a staff and went on in flames. The lava flowed unseen beneath our feet and that brought us a feeling of fear and excitement. If the lava was there we had to find.

The atmosphere, slightly toxic, starting to be annoying and also felt a smell of burning rubber. They were the soles of my shoes had stopped too long on a hot rock.

Walter tried to dissuade predicting all sorts of misfortunes but decided to upgrade a little remembering other apocalyptic forecasts that missed our dear Walter. The atmosphere, slightly toxic, starting to be annoying and also felt a smell of burning rubber. They were the soles of my shoes had stopped too long on a hot rock. José Luis Alfonso and the same thing happened to them and stopped to make a few drawings in a place that seemed solid. Leaving the computer on a rock cracked and portray with the camera on a barren landscape that appeared at intervals dense haze. After about ten minutes we notice something that caught our attention. The crack of the rock was considerably larger than before. That black stone was changing shape! Then heard a whistle coming from the ground disturbing, like we were on a volcano valve. Walter took the way back without saying a word. We wanted to take this opportunity to record a little more.

Beginning to sunset and in the distance we saw something we definitely duped: a string of glowing orange light on a side of the volcano. We had just spotted a lava flow and study the situation and go towards there. Some stones were breaking our way and guide that we had started to doubt. We managed to overcome the most insecure and were captivated when we had the lava river a few yards.

From a crack flowed thick and incandescent lava and formed a scorched earth mantle.

The show was awesome. From a crack flowed thick and incandescent lava and formed a scorched earth mantle. Occasionally some huge boulders rolling down the hill and all hell break flowed inside. Produced a clang that none of us will ever forget. And there, demonized in this context had to do the presentation for the report. I had to approach the magma to enhance the visual impact. Alfonso and I began to be felt nervous as sweltering and clank startled us again and again. We were only two or three meters from that river of molten metal. After several shots with his back to the lava, I burned my ass, but when we finished recording all felt excited. As night came, more threads appear glowing lava everywhere. We looked for a while that miracle linking land surface with its entrails. Then began the way back.

The guide gave mixed signals during descent and after a few laps aimlessly conclude that was lost. It was already dark and we moved blindly. We got away awkwardly dragging the technical team. When we returned back sight could hardly believe the scene that took place at the summit of the volcano. They had formed a storm and lightning lit up the crater spewing incandescent turn stone. It may seem excessive lyric, but fifteen centuries ago the sight would have meant the sacrifice of human beings to appease the fury of the Mayan gods.

Fifteen centuries ago would have meant that vision of human sacrifice to appease the fury of the Mayan gods.

The guide said that we had to pick up the pace but the reason I argued my head right off entirely. We should avoid the presence of the kadejos. I told you so concerned they called the spirits of the volcano-what was missing- and assured me not to joke that he ran twice with one of them. Some are good and bad and it was crucial not run into a black kadejo. I looked toward the top of the volcano was still spewing fire in the storm. At that time he could believe anything. Accelerating the pace as if we were watching Sauron himself with his one eye, but the truth is I did not see any ghosts in all the way, had already been unlucky. Walter was waiting beside the horses nervous.

When we returned to the capital of Guatemala, the city seemed much kinder.