Volcán Villarrica: Lava and Ice and Crampons Are Nice

“Wow” is what I kept repeating to myself while climbing up the steep slope of Volcán Villarrica. Fully decked in head-to-foot snow gear, I trekked alongside the day’s 200 hikers to the lava-spurting crater. And from base to summit — wow.

Wanted: Good Guide 

In order to climb up Volcán Villarrica, most visitors need to join a guided group. Solo climbers must be either a guide or member of a certified alpine club; these experienced few have to seek approval in advance with national park service CONAF. (We went through this process for Connor, who’s part of an alpine group. At the ranger station, it was a delight to meet the jovial and storied park superintendent.)

Initially, I was resistant to coughing up the cash for a tour: CLP 75.000-95.000 buys you a spot in the high season. But Volcán Villarrica, though costly, is renowned for its exquisite views and accessible trail. Read: worth it.

Connor and I compared rates for agencies along Pucón’s Av. Bernardo O’Higgins — where you can locate most tour offices — and I settled on the company with the lowest price.

At CLP 75.000, Andesmar provides multiple guides; gear including crampons, ice axe, semi-rigid boots, snow pants and jacket, gloves, gas mask and sled, all tidily arranged in a hiking backpack; park entry of CLP 6.000; and 45-minute transport to and from the volcano. Oh, and a celebratory post-climb beer at the base cafe overlooking the volcano. Cheers!

The best feature of Andesmar, as far as I’m concerned, is how our guides arranged us according to speed and separated the groups when necessary. One guide said about 20 percent of climbers drop out before making it to the summit. Of the seven in our group, three made it to the top.

Up, Up And Away

The hike begins with a climb up loose lava rock, which is typically avoided via a ski lift (closed for maintenance during our hike). Climbing alongside hundreds of people isn’t typically an enjoyable experience for me; I usually feel compelled to go faster than I should in order to find some open space. But this day was different. Wedged between my guide and another hiker of comparable speed, I had to keep pace with them. Without the ability to go faster or slower, I settled into a trance — and felt free to admire the scenery that surrounded us.

We stopped every 40-50 minute for water and snacks, usually chocolate bars and cookies. During an extended lunch break, we clustered with other hikers, and I surreptitiously met up with Connor. (I was concerned our guide would be vexed by Connor hiking near our crew, but he seemed completely unbothered. We tipped well.)

Near the top, there’s a false summit where we ditched our packs and added more layers of clothing. Wind, steepness and ice challenges us; cresting the top of the volcano was a moment for celebration.

Up top, the air held a generous amount of sulphuric gas — more than I’d anticipated — so we moved quickly around the crater. You can occasionally see broiling lava; we just saw a pit. No matter — the 360-degree views around the summit covered all the ground I hoped to witness. Volcanos, lakes, rolling hills: nature to a crescendo.

Down With It

Because of recent snowfall, the top portion of the mountain was too icy to descend any way other than via switchbacks. I gave thanks for the crampons, which make aaall the difference along frozen terrain.

Halfway down, the snow was soft enough to break out our sleds and slide downslope. Courtesy of my aversion to tumbling, flipping or, ya know, accidentally jabbing myself with the ice axe or something, I was easily the slowest going. However, during the 20-or-so minutes of sledding, I eventually picked up speed. Wind on my face, sturdy ground beneath me, vast scene before me. You know the word for it.