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Leaving Mexico City, team Mexican Koala - our girl Bec flew all the way from Australia - was excited to tackle our first volcano, Malinche at 14,501. 

Our van ride went smoothly and before we knew it we were enjoying the crowd-favorite bbq meat towers at the Malinche cabins restaurant. Our weather was cold but clear, and folks went to bed ready for an early-ish morning. 

Alarms went off at 4:30am, and unfortunately Bec’s long trip from Australia had her under the weather. But the rest of them team rallied for her and left the cabins in the dark. At around 13,500’ we walked into a moody mist cloud, and with our army of mountain-dogs, around 11am, we climbed onto the summit just in time for a sun break! 100% for those who left the cabins!

More meat towers yesterday evening and a good night’s sleep and we’re off to Ixta!

RMI Guide Joe Hoch

The mountains lost a legend this week.

To the climbing community, Jim Whittaker’s impact is immeasurable. To us at RMI and Whittaker Mountaineering, it was foundational.

Jim was Lou’s twin brother, and their shared love of the mountains shaped American alpinism in ways that still echo today.

Rest easy, Jim. We hope you and Lou are climbing something beautiful.

Hello from Phakding — a little village hugging the Dudh Koshi river at 8,700 feet and our first stop on the trek.

We made it to the trail.

But not before being genuinely humbled on the helicopter ride from Kathmandu to Lukla. The mountains don’t ease you in — they just appear, enormous and right. there.

The humbling continued when our pilot Priya mentioned, casually, that in Nepal they don’t consider anything below 7,000 meters a real mountain. We nodded along like we knew that. Then we looked at each other, because by that definition, basically none of us have ever climbed a mountain.

Good to know where we stand.

Getting on the trail this morning involved a lot of hurrying up to wait, then hurrying again — obscure checkpoints, duffels flying in every direction, the usual chaos of travel through the domestic terminal of the Kathmandu airport.

Eventually we were walking, on a trail made of stones, trending gently downhill, which felt like a dream.

We also got to meet our local guide team: Dawa Nuru, Nawang, and Melan — all born and raised in these mountains. They know this terrain the way most people know their own neighborhood.

The afternoon was spent at a bakery next to our teahouse, laughing and talking with no particular agenda.

It’s a good feeling. All of it.

RMI Guide Jess Wedel and the team

Hello from Pangboche.

I’m writing this from a tea house window watching snow fall on the valley below, which feels like the appropriate punctuation to a trip that has given us weather in every form except usually the one we actually wanted.

Until yesterday.

Yesterday, the mountains gave us a gift.

Summit day was the most sun we’ve seen this entire trip. No wind. Perfect snow conditions — more coverage on the upper mountain than our Sherpa guide team has seen in years, which turned the typical steep, slabby rock into a beautiful snow climb. We got extraordinarily lucky, and we knew it.

We left high camp just after 3:00 a.m., headlamps on, the dark enormous around us. Seven and a half hours later, the team stood on the summit of Lobuche.

What happened in between is harder to put into words.

Hard things are hard. I know — profound. A quote we’ve joked about but actually hits. There’s something that happens on a mountain at altitude, in the dark, with steep terrain above you and your legs already tired, where that simple truth becomes the whole truth. The technical sections near the top demanded everything. Every step deliberate, every breath rationed. And I’ll be honest: I did not stop talking. Probably to a degree that could be classified as unhinged. “You’ve got this.” “Dig deep.” “Keep moving.” “You’ve got this.” If any of my team is reading this — I’m only slightly sorry.

What I watched in return was something I don’t take for granted, no matter how many times I get to see it. People tapping into strength they didn’t know they had. Facing real fear — of heights, of the unknown, of their own limits — and stepping forward anyway. Tears behind glasses. Shaking legs that kept moving. At one point I looked up through the thin air and saw a climber moving through steep, challenging terrain with a power and grace that stopped me. Elegant and strong in exactly the moment it was hardest to be either.

That’s what this mountain asks for. That’s what this team gave.

By summit, every one of us was running on fumes — the kind of tired that lives in your bones and doesn’t apologize. The Khumbu cough we’d somehow dodged the entire trip? Consider it found. Turns out all it needed was one very long, very hard day at altitude to make its entrance. Worth it. Completely worth it.

We returned to high camp, celebrated, and slept the deep sleep of people who had earned it.

Today we descended to Pangboche, where it is snowing (of course it is) and where I am sitting warm and still and deeply grateful.

To the families reading this: your people were extraordinary. They showed up, they dug deep, and they stood on top of a very big mountain in the Himalayas. More heart and courage on this team than I’ve seen in a long time.

Everyone is safe, everyone is proud, and everyone is very ready for a hot shower.

And we’re very, very glad to be sleeping below 14,000ft for the first time in 8 days.

RMI Guide Jess Wedel and the Lobuche team

Monday, February 2, 2026 - 5:15 pm PT

Today we walked 8 miles from Casa de Piedras to Plaza Argentina Base Camp. I’m happy to report: we all made it in good form - big win! 

Highlights included:

We got the best send-off this morning from Jimmy and Eze, who somehow made gourmet meals deep in the Andes. Truly unclear how they do it, but the food was incredible.

We’re generally feeling… better. After all the travel, trail starts, and adjusting to the high, dry climate, it feels like we’re finally settling into expedition life. Routines are forming. Bodies are cooperating. Spirits are up. A miracle.

We started the day by yelping and laughing through the coldest glacier water imaginable. As we crossed that first river, Denis said, “A core memory was just created.” And despite the numb feet, standing there as the morning light hit the rocks and exploded into colors around us, it really felt true.

We FINALLY saw Aconcagua. Yes — actually saw her. The clouds cleared and there she was: gorgeous, massive, slightly intimidating. We got to stare at her all day, which felt pretty special (and mildly existential).

We played “I Spy a Guanaco” for most of the hike. I don’t know who won because we’re not competitive, but there were many, many guanaco sightings. And we got to hear them relincho. A yipping sound they make and also what the valley we ascended was named after - Relinchos valley.

And… we made it to Base Camp! Our home for the next four days. Tents are up, duffels are everywhere, and everyone suddenly looks like they’ve been living outside for weeks (it’s only been days but don’t tell the team I said that).

By the end of the day, I realized Denis was right — not just about that river crossing, but about the whole day. It really feels like one of those memories we’ll carry for a long time.

Tomorrow is our first rest day and we are very much looking forward to it.

RMI Guide Jess Wedel

Tuesday, May 19, 2026 - 5:49 pm PT

We left La Paz in the wee hours of the morning, navigating the maze of city streets to the highway leading to Huayna Potosi. As we neared the base of Huayna we could see headlamps high on the summit ridge, an exciting preview of what's to come. The sun was just beginning to rise as we turned north on a road that seemed improbable at best in a passenger van, but our driver navigated with ease and precision while we took in breathtaking early morning views of the west face of Huayna. After creating a 16000+' pass the "road" dropped down towards the Condoriri valley, and we hopped out of the van to stretch our legs for the final few miles to the Rinconada trailhead. We set up camp in the meadow surrounded by grazing llamas and alpacas. After lunch the rest of the afternoon was spent napping and organizing gear into loads for the mules that will help us move up to Condoriri base camp tomorrow. It's great to be out of the hustle and bustle of the city and under the spectacular Milky Way sky.

RMI Guide Henry Coppolillo

I’m typing this from the back of the sprinter van that’s hauling us and all our dusty duffels from Penitentes, the tiny old ski town just outside Aconcagua National Park. I’m watching the southern stars one last time out the window as Carlos (you may remember him from the beginning of the trip for sending us off with AC/DC) sails down the highway back to Mendoza.

We woke up this morning after a lovely night at Plaza de Mulas base camp - warm showers, wifi, a hot meal, and a gorgeous sunset. It gave us all the energy we needed for the ~16 mile walk out. We round it up to 20 miles so feel free to do the same when you ask us how it was.

We walked and walked down from over 14,300ft to the entrance at 9,500ft. You won’t be surprised to hear that the wind carried us out. Just as it carried us in and up and back down. Our faithful friend. Or something.

We mostly walked in silence, some with music, some with only the windsong but all of us reflecting on the adventure.

Most teams spread out throughout the day on the hike but we stayed together in our faithful formation, one in front of the other, moving as a team one last time.

We stopped to stare up at the south face of Aconcagua. We hadn’t seen it yet — fierce and gorgeous with its hanging seracs and vertical rock and ice.

You may wonder, why are you just now driving back to Mendoza in the dark? Well, sometimes things don’t go according to plan and today the mulas carrying all our gear were a little behind. So we waited for a few years, err hours, at the Grajales warehouse with all the other teams that hiked out today.

We stayed positive, mostly, and passed the time by learning the intricacies of Mate (the local beverage of choice) (pronounced Maaaa-Te) from Leandro. What to do — look your friend in the eye when you pass the cup. What not to do — never, ever ever touch the straw.

And finally just as we were finishing our last bag of Honey Nut Cheerios that went up and over the whole mountain with us — the duffels arrived.

Or most of them. But don’t worry, the rest will come tomorrow.

Soon we’ll be in Mendoza and back to a soft bed and hot water on demand and all the comforts we now appreciate a lot more than 2 weeks ago when we left.

RMI Guide Jess Wedel and the A-team

Close encounters of an Elephant-kind

Our first day on safari brought us to Lake Manyara National Park. The team spent about four hours driving around the park on a “game drive” where we saw hundreds of baboons, Vervet monkeys, Blue monkeys and lots of exotic birds, Impalas, hippos and elephants so close we could have touched them. Nothing dangerous, but wow was it surreal to see these massive mammals up close.

Everyone had a great day and enjoyed just relaxing while taking in the views.

We are currently staying at the beautiful Plantation Lodge just outside Karatu.

The team just finished a wonderful meal and are off to bed as we are headed out early tomorrow hoping to see some big cats!

RMI Guide Casey Grom and the Safari crew!

After a relaxing morning and filling  breakfast at the Refugio, we packed our bags, bid farewell to our new four legged friends,  loaded ourselves in the bus, and moved one step closer to our first objective: Cayambe.  The day was a scheduled rest day, so naturally we did what all climbers do, we went shopping! We stopped at the outdoor market in Otavalo and shopped for gifts while soaking up some local culture. 

Eventually we made our way to the lower climbers hut.  What a pleasant surprise it turned out to be!  Many of us had mentally steeled ourselves for something more rustic… however we were treated to comfy beds with pillows, WiFi, and a warm stove!  “Glampineering” feels like an accurate description.  After spending a quiet afternoon relaxing and a delicious homemade dinner, we found ourselves huddled around our phones anxiously watching Alex Honnold scale Taipei 101.  Spoiler: he makes it to the top. 

After breakfast Sunday morning, we donned our gear and practiced our skills in preparation for Cayambe.  Once we were all feeling more confident, we packed our bags, climbed into trucks, and headed to the upper climbers hut.   While not as luxurious as the lower one, it again exceeded our expectations.  

 Now, we relax and prepare to begin our climb at midnight tonight, a shared sense of anxious excitement resonates through the team.  Each person is here for their own reasons, but collectively we are focused on one goal: Cayambe.

RMI Climber Erica Kim

This morning brought more pleasant weather in the form of overcast skies as opposed to yesterday’s endless, torrential downpour. We shoved out of Quito a bit ahead of schedule and were able to complete the four-hour loop hike of Laguna Cuicocha without incident.

Along the way people continued to connect with each other and share knowledge and experiences. On this trip we’ve learned a good deal from each other discussing a variety of topics: geology, biology, medicine, piloting an aircraft and how to keep your worried passengers at ease, as well as countless other topics. A lot can also be learned about a person through their fast-food preferences.

Even as we turn our sights towards Cayambe, we have done a great job of focusing on the task at hand (acclimatization) and taking in some lovely cultural experiences.

RMI Guide Dustin Wittmier & Team