The Moraine’s Lesson: Harmony Over Conquest
The Deadly Silence of Nevado Pisco:
A Story from a Specialist Mountain Guide
All these years in the mountains have taught me an unshakable truth: mountains are neither friends nor foes. They are living tests of our ability to listen, learn, and respect. But if there’s one place in this region that still makes me hold my breath every time I cross it, it’s the moraine of Nevado Pisco, at 4,750 meters above sea level. Here, a single misstep can be your last.
Geting ready
It was 12:15 a.m. when I woke the group. My voice broke the stillness of the base refuge. «Today, we cross the moraine. Do not stray from me under any circumstances, please,» I said. Their eyes, reflecting a glint of anxiety under the headlamps, looked back at me silently. They had already heard the stories: hikers who disappeared, fatal falls. The moraine of Pisco does not forgive. Without experience or a guide, this place can become a deadly trap.
Crossing it during the day is not an option. When the sun touches those rocks, it heats them, destabilizes them, and chaos begins. That’s why we leave at dawn when the cold keeps the rocks in place and the danger, though still present, is more manageable. But don’t be fooled, I thought to myself, the moraine of Pisco is a sleeping monster, and we are about to walk on its back.
As soon as we left the camp, the slope began to challenge the group. The headlamps illuminated a labyrinth of granite blocks, some as large as houses. The smaller rocks slid underfoot, signaling the risk of a fall, which here always ends badly. “Every step I take, you repeat, please,” I told them.
In the darkness, my senses were on high alert. Every crunch, every sound of the wind, every change in the terrain told me something. Over the years in these mountains, I’ve learned to listen to the rock and snow as if they had a voice. I knew where to step and where not to, where the path was safe, and where false confidence could lead to disaster. Strangely, I said to myself, I don’t know how I do it; but I do.
«The Moraine’s Lesson: Harmony Over Conquest»
Many years in these mountains, and I still cannot let my guard down. Every time I cross, the moraine of Pisco reminds me why I do this: not to conquer but to live in harmony, first with myself and then with others. And to make sure others make it through as well.
We reached the critical point: a narrow passage where the moraine sharpened like a knife, with an abyss on either side. Despite my years of experience, I always feel the familiar weight of responsibility pressing on me. Every life in that group was in my hands. I had them cross one by one while I held the safety rope. My breathing was slow and controlled, but the pounding of my heart echoed in my ears.
When we finally crossed and reached the glacier, the first ray of sunlight caressed the peaks of Huascarán and the surrounding mountains. I looked at the group: exhausted, but alive. I gave them a moment to breathe, to take in the sunrise and feel the warmth of the sun on their faces. I didn’t say anything at that moment, but inside, I felt that familiar sense of relief. We had crossed, yes, but there is never room for arrogance in these lands.
