The 5 Things I Learned Climbing Chimborazo, Ecuador’s Highest Peak

What It's Like To Climb Chimborazo

It's 10 pm, I'm at 4,850 meters at base camp, facing a Chimborazo climb, and I can't sleep. High altitudes tend to do that. I lay there, feeling the panic that little oxygen brings, and am writing a death note to my family.

Is it a little dramatic? Probably. But I'm also about to go up to 6,263m, and I'm anxiously reading blogs about the experience, which sounds terrifying. I'm not sure why I'm doing it.

At 11 pm, we suit up. I shove my crampons and mountaineering boots into my bag, grab some water and snacks, and look at my guide, Frank, a local man of 50 who has probably been up and down this mountain a hundred times.

We begin our trek with a two-hour hike up rocky terrain. I tell Frank that I can go faster, but he's adamant. “This is the pace until we reach the top.” An hour in, I understand why. I am gasping for breath and feeling slightly dizzy. He's not breaking a sweat.

The Snow Line

Two hours in, we hit snow. We sit down, and I switch my hiking boots for a pair of mountaineering boots. I strap on my crampons and take out my ice axe. I feel the chill even after just a few minutes of not moving.

The wind is howling over the mountain. We begin to walk on ice, and the first thing we hit is a little ice bridge, about two feet wide, with a sheer rock wall on one side and a steep, 80-degree icy slope on the other.

I am not really afraid of heights, but this terrifies me. I'm roped up to Frank, but I can't help thinking that my 190-pound frame would drag this 130-pound Ecuadorian man with me if I fell. “Don't fall,” I think, but I feel myself trembling.

A Steep Climb

The next six hours are a brutal climb up icy switchbacks along a 70-degree slope. This mountain isn't “technical,” but I feel unprepared for the severity of the conditions and climb. It's testing everything I have.

I keep looking up the slope, as far as I can see, to see where the other climbing groups are. All I can see are the faint lights of headlamps far up the mountain. No matter how much I climb, they stay just as far away. It feels endless.

My chest aches, my stomach feels nauseous, and I am scared. Scared of falling, scared of dying, scared of failing, scared of hurting. I tell myself I will walk 20 steps and then briefly stop to breathe. I keep this pace for hours.

All the while, Frank tells me to hurry up. He doesn't really need to tell me this since stopping is not an option. Just a brief minute stop chills me to my bones. I barely have enough energy to adjust the hood on my head, let alone take off my backpack and get some food. So I go the entire climb without eating or drinking.

Periodically, I check my phone to see our elevation: 16,000 feet, 17,000 feet, 18,000 feet. At 18,500 feet, it's 3 am, and part of me wants to quit. We encounter one of the other groups making a descent. We're informed that one of the climbers couldn't finish the climb and decided to turn back.

My heart sinks. Secretly, I hoped they would tell us that the mountain was inaccessible and we would need to turn back. But no, the mountain is good to go, and we keep climbing.

Summit Push

Finally, at around 7 am, 8 hours after we began our climb, we started to reach the summit. My feet feel like lead. I can walk about ten steps before I feel like I need to vomit (which I later do on the way down).

Suddenly, we round the peak. Checkered snow meets yellow light as the sun pours over the horizon. I feel like leaping for joy and collapsing into a sob simultaneously. Frank asks for my phone, and I begrudgingly pull my frozen hands out of my gloves and hand it to him. He snaps a few photos.

I stand for a few minutes, admiring the view. It feels like looking out the window of a 747. Then, we begin the treacherous climb down.

What I Learned Climbing Chimborazo

Climbing Chimborazo, Ecuador's highest peak, is no small feat. Standing at 6,263 meters (20,548 feet), this inactive volcano challenges your physical stamina and tests your mental resilience. As I discovered, the journey to the top is filled with highs, lows, and invaluable lessons extending beyond the mountain.

If you're considering climbing Chimborazo or want a taste of what high-altitude climbing entails, here are five important lessons I learned on this life-changing journey.

1. High Altitude Is No Joke; Sleeping at High Altitude Is Even Worse

Altitude is a game-changer, and you can't fully appreciate it until you experience it. Above 15,000 feet, breathing becomes labored, every step feels heavier, and simple tasks can leave you gasping for air.

The most shocking aspect for me was how hard it was to sleep above 15,000 feet. It feels like lucid dreaming. I kept waking up, feeling panicked. My mind was calm, but it felt like I was having a panic attack. I didn't manage to sleep at all.

It's a reminder not to underestimate the altitude. If you ever go to these heights, please prepare your body through proper acclimatization.

2. Locals Are the Way to Go – Avoid Tour Companies

Finding a local guide rather than using a large tour company in Ecuador makes for an amazing cultural experience. I was fortunate to have a local guide, Frank, who was deeply knowledgeable about the mountain and its nuances.

He hosted me at his house for several days before the climb, and I got to meet his family and practice my Spanish. While tour companies offer flashy packages and all-inclusive deals, locals often know the terrain better and can offer a more personal experience.

I highly recommend supporting local guides and the community by choosing someone with firsthand experience on the mountain. Look for personal recommendations or ask around in nearby towns. I recommend doing a lower-stakes climb first to ensure you work well together.

Related: How To Get Ready for a High-Altitude Mountain Climb

3. It's Not Whether You're Afraid, It's How You Respond

I felt tremendous fear throughout the entire climb. What I learned is that fear is inevitable. The question is whether you can stay relaxed and present through the fear. It comes down to being willing to experience fear as fully as possible. Breathe deeply and allow the fear to penetrate every part of your body. Relax your shoulders and focus on the next step.

4. Don't Worry About Getting All the Way – Just Move Another Ten Steps

One of my biggest takeaways was learning to focus on the next few steps rather than the entire summit. At that altitude, looking up at the peak feels overwhelming and exhausting. Breaking the climb into small, manageable goals helped me stay motivated. I would focus on making it just another ten steps, then another. This approach kept me moving, even when my body wanted to stop.

Tip: Break down the climb into tiny goals. Focus on progress instead of the peak, and celebrate each small achievement along the way.

Related: Climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro

5. Accept That You Won't Be Comfortable – Embrace the Discomfort

Chimborazo isn't a comfortable climb. From the cold winds biting through your layers to the physical strain of ascending, discomfort is guaranteed. One of my hardest lessons was realizing that the discomfort wasn't going away—it was part of the experience. The sooner I accepted it, the easier it became to push through.

Tip: Prepare mentally for discomfort, and remind yourself that it's part of the adventure. Embracing it will help you overcome it.

Conclusion

Climbing Chimborazo was an adventure filled with both challenges and triumphs. Each lesson I learned on that mountain became a valuable insight into not just climbing but life itself.

Whether you're facing the daunting task of scaling Chimborazo or tackling any difficult journey, remember to take it one step at a time, embrace the discomfort, and lean into the fear. The summit may be the goal, but the journey is where the growth happens.