At first, the sky was clear and the mountaintop could be seen clearly from the city. However, once the group set off up the mountain, the weather changed. Sinister clouds manifested and completely embraced the mountain. In a matter of seconds, mist appeared and water droplets began to fall.
"It will just be a passing shower," I said to calm the group.
However, the situation only worsened. It was as if nature wanted to contradict me and within minutes, we were soaked. The trail we followed had become a stream where water descended.
That was when the storm began. That day I was with seven people, two of them city girls who started to get nervous because of the rain. Geraldine kept asking how much longer and her cousin Osmary shouted to turn back, but it was much more complicated to go back in the rain, and being dragged by the trail river was not very recommendable. It was better to keep climbing and reach the top, then we would take the cable car down to the city.
"How much longer?" was the occasional question every minute.
I tried to tell them that the important thing was to keep going, but they didn't understand. They were blocked and fearful.
"Not much longer, about fifteen minutes," I said to encourage them.
It was also important that I started walking as an example. If I walked, they would walk, and we could keep warm by pumping our blood. If we stopped, we would only feel the cold of the mountain. If before they were like donkeys complaining, now they looked like racehorses trotting in a hippodrome, desperately looking to reach the finish line.
However, I was there to control everything.
"How much longer? Will the cable car work in this weather? What if lightning strikes?" Osmary said, slowly advancing.
Her questions bounced off my mental armor, I wasn't going to let their nerves affect me. I was the guide, therefore, my mood would be reflected. We kept walking. At that moment, no lightning was heard, only the impact of the rain against the foliage and us. Our shoes were soaked with water and my socks were completely wet.
"You've never truly climbed a mountain until it rains," I said, extending my arms without stopping walking. "You can consider yourselves baptized."
They were novices in mountain matters and the nervousness reflected in their eyes was understandable. But the mountain was too busy, there were warnings wherever we went, and the trail of people was too evident because the passage of humans erodes the soil and vegetation stops growing where humans pass. If you count the footsteps that man has taken in that area where we were going, you realize that vegetation in that specific area will never grow again.
"How much longer, Ric?" my cousin finally asked.
I smiled amused.
"Just about fifteen minutes."
I could feel everyone's hateful gaze.
"You've been saying the same thing since we started," Geraldine's boyfriend, whose name I didn't know, said. "Stop playing with our feelings," he said pleadingly, but without losing his masculinity. "Is it much further?"
I looked ahead and saw that the path was going to get complicated because there was a lot of foliage that was going to soak us even more. The vegetation patted us all over the body, telling us that we were part of its environment. After taking a few more steps, it turned into wet hugs and even spanks on the knees. In that state of effusiveness, I couldn't respond to them, but I could hear their complaints. I would be lying if I said I didn't enjoy hearing them complain, it was like I was taking away the comforts of civilization from them.
"The only bad thing about all this is that I haven't been able to take my phone out to take a picture," Jorge, another member, muttered.
"Are you crazy? I'm soaked. Trust me, I won't climb again," said Osmary's boyfriend, who stayed behind helping his girlfriend climb the slopes. "Don't bring me again, seriously."
We all laughed at his words, even himself. He knew that later on, he would ask me to climb again, it was just a matter of time. They would all be infected by the mountain's aura.
"Ric, you're crazy. Only a crazy person ventures into these places," my cousin pointed out. "Although at this point, everything seems ancient and prehistoric. The formations of the stones seem like they were placed there by a giant."
"There used to be a glacier here, that's why the shape of the rocks. I've also thought the same thing, this is like Jurassic Park. I think that's why I come here so often because it's an adventure," I said and brushed the vegetation from my face.
The two companions of the girls grunted. No one asked us to stop, they wanted to reach the top and that was good. Fifteen minutes passed, filling our shoes with mud and dirtying our clothes, despite avoiding the foliage. Just when I thought the rain had stopped, a breeze surprised us and threw the vital liquid in our faces. Somehow, it was as if the vegetation was also spitting on us for good luck. I didn't know what the others were thinking, but that's how I saw it.
"I think we should have asked the mountain for permission to pass!" Jorge pointed out, following my footsteps closely. The others sometimes lagged. "This could have not happened."
"I asked for permission when we started the trip," I said, arching my eyebrows. "That you didn't hear me is another thing, but every time I climb, I mentally ask for a good trip."
"But doesn't the word carry more weight than the thought?" Jorge retorted.
"No idea, I ask and we're alive. If she wanted to show us this experience, it's her decision."
"What a bad decision!" objected Osmary, finally catching up to us. "How much longer?"
"Well, about fifteen minutes exactly," I replied and felt everyone's glare on my back. "Stop asking, it won't shorten the remaining kilometers."
"We're masochists for letting ourselves be lured by you and you're the biggest masochist for coming so many times!" exclaimed Geraldine, laughing.
At least one of the little princesses had accepted the situation and was becoming a hiking enthusiast. I saw her calmly looking at everything with her eyes wide open.
It took us two hours from La Silla to get to Humboldt. We had to face one last steep climb full of mud. If we took one step, we could go back three and even fall funnily. The key was to step forcefully and try to choose the driest path.
At that point, it had stopped raining, but the effects of the storm were evident. My recruits slipped many times because they didn't have strength in their legs. In addition, their appearance was far from that of homeless people covered in mud and branches. They were hungry for not having lunch, but they were determined to reach the top.
Only a few last stretches were missing, but the million-dollar question was asked.
"How much longer?" Osmary said breathlessly.
I smiled and she said a swear word knowing the answer. The worst part was that there really were fifteen minutes left.
Cover and Banner made in Canva; Images produced by Canvas AI, Separators made in photoshop