Most Popular Entries

“The wind you really got to dread is the one that howls inside your head…” -Muni, but perhaps adapted from somewhere else.

Hello hi there,

Today we climbed again to Camp 3 — Colera — at 19,600 feet.

Another windy, cold day. At this point it almost feels… expected. Normal, even. We wake up, we zip the tents carefully so they don’t become kites, we layer up, we check each other’s hoods and buckles, and we move.

We are dialed now. Dialed with our breaks. Dialed with our systems. Dialed with how to open a snack without sending it to Chile. We don’t rush. We don’t waste energy. We just keep taking the next step.

The stretch from Camp 2 to Camp 3 is one of my favorites on this mountain. Aconcagua reigning to our left — massive and unmoved. The Andes rolling out to our right in layers of red, gold, and shadow. Brutal and beautiful, side by side, as they so often are up here.

Colera is a stark place. The wind doesn’t whisper here — it announces itself. This is where the normal route meets the false Polish Traverse (the route we took up), the lines of climbers converging under the same summit skyline. The camp is tucked into large white rocks that jut upward like a jagged crown. We nestle ourselves into their protection as best we can.

Life at nearly 20,000 feet is not casual. Every movement costs something. Simple tasks feel consequential. But the team is steady. Eating. Drinking. Checking in. Doing the small things well.

Tonight we crawled into our tents early to let our bodies rest. Tomorrow is a big question mark. We’ve done everything we can to put ourselves in position.

Now we wait to see what the mountain says.

RMI Guide Jess Wedel and the Aconcagua team

Today was the big one. Not only did we transition from the O portion to the W portion of the trek, it was also the biggest day of the entire trip. Up and over John Gardner Pass. A day that typically takes teams 10 to 12 hours, and we hit it right in the bullseye at 11 hours total.

Today was on our side. What can often be a gusty, cold, and wet test of grit turned into a warm, calm, and spectacular one. Easily some of the best weather I have ever had over the pass.

Afterward, we spent much of the day traversing alongside the glacier. The trail winds and weaves through the trees, offering glimpses of the ice every so often. You almost forget it’s there until you crest a hill and are reminded exactly where you are.

Along the way, we crossed three suspension bridges, each one feeling a little easier as our confidence grew and the movement beneath our feet became more familiar. By the time we reached Refugio Grey, the day had finally caught up to us. Hot showers, dry clothes, and the quiet relief that comes after a long push were more than enough. With that, we settled in and hoped the rain we’re expecting decides to hold off until later.

Go Seahawks, and I hope Drake Maye keeps getting sacked.

RMI Guide Dominic Cifelli

Tashi Delek!

The ordering of everyday life has officially been left behind. We’re in our new routine now, wake up, pack duffels, breakfast, dance break, hit the trail.

Nobody blinked when apple pie appeared on the breakfast table alongside eggs in various configurations. Mostly because last night we realized how good it was and decided why not also have it for breakfast. This is just how life works now. We are different people here — pie for breakfast kind of people.

We woke to clear skies and fresh snow on the ground. A few more inches had fallen overnight. It’s the rhythm of this trip: crisp, exquisite mornings that feel like a gift, then clouds and snow rolling in by afternoon. We’ll take it.

Today’s stretch through Pangboche to Pheriche is many people’s favorite of the whole trek, and it’s easy to see why. Ama Dablam dominated the skyline for most of the day, impossibly photogenic from every angle. Higher up, the jet stream tore visibly off the summits of Everest and Lhotse — a reminder that those peaks operate in a different atmosphere entirely.

We’re sleeping at 14,000 feet tonight, and the mountains still tower above us. The scale simply does not compute.

We also shared the trail with yaks today. Train after train of them, loaded with gear bound for Base Camp, completely unbothered by us and entirely uninterested in moving over. They are majestic and slightly chaotic and have the most curious and intimidating eyes. Love them.

We’re all cozied up for two nights in Pheriche. The snow has predictably arrived and we’re currently in a cloud where we can’t see 3 feet in front of us. But it’s not a problem because the stove is on in the dining room and we’re about to play approximately one million rounds of “22,” our favorite card game at the moment. Dinner and sleep await.

—  RMI Guide Jess Wedel and the team

People have asked me why I climb mountains. My answer has changed over the years. The short answer is I climb mountains so I can escape the mountains of my mind. 

I like Robert McFarland’s quote on the subject too. 

“The true blessing of the mountains is not that they provide a challenge or a contest, something to be overcome and dominated (although this is how many people have approached them). It is that they offer something gentler and infinitely more powerful: they make us ready to credit marvels - whether it is the dark swirl which water makes beneath a plate of ice, or the feel of the soft pelts of moss which form on the lee sides of boulders and trees. Being in the mountains reignites our astonishment at the simplest transactions of the physical world: a snowflake a millionth of an ounce in weight falling on to one's outstretched palm, water patiently carving a runnel in a face of granite, the apparently motiveless shift of a stone in a scree-filled gully. To put a hand down and feel the ridges and score in a rock where a glaciers has passed, to hear how a hillside comes alive with moving water after a rain shower, to see late summer light filling miles of landscape like an inexhaustible liquid - none of these is a trivial experience. Mountains returns to us priceless capacity for wonder which can so insensibly be leached away by modern existence, and they urge us to apply that wonder to our own everyday lives.”

Mountains of the Mind, Robert McFarland

To wrap up how I’m feeling right now, laying in a tent, at 13,000 ft, when I dream, when I attempt to define happiness, this is it. To be with new and old friends outdoors, doing things that allow us to walk the line of comfort and risk. A guide helps control this risk and allows for this exploration of growth. Thanks Ben.

Sometimes I climb mountains just to say I did.

RMI Climber Hannah McEntire 

Ps: Congratulations to the team today for our summit on Izta!

Team Mexican Koala was in high spirits on the van ride to Ixta Base Camp. We played “What’s That Song?” to our guide Joe’s epic 80’s playlist, and even managed to get phone reception for a bit to send quick updates to family and friends.

Once we arrived at base camp, the team refueled with soup and chicken tacos, then made our way up to high camp at 14,500 feet. The scenery was unreal, and some of the most beautiful any of us had ever seen-tall yellow prairie grass dotted with pine trees across massive mountainsides, and the Popo volcano belching ash and smoke. 

After an alpine start, the team tagged the summit of Ixta, even with Mother Nature throwing us a curveball in the form of a full-on whiteout and a quarter inch of rime ice on helmets, backpacks, sunglasses, goggles, eyelashes, everything……

Huge thanks to our incredible guides, Joe and Bailey, for getting us up and down safely!

Now we’re looking forward to a hot shower and a rest day in Puebla before our summit push on Orizaba.

RMI Climber Matt Hirschberg-Team Mexico Koala

Hello faithful readers!

Imagine the inside of a ping pong ball. Now imagine yourself inside that ping pong ball. That was us for 8 hours today. Today the plan was to take all our excess gear and food and cache it at around 9800. After spending the morning organizing our gear, we took off slogging up “Ski Hill”. Slow and steady was the name of game. Navigation was difficult at best and a blind guess at worst. The team was strong both mentally and physically today. The effort was top notch.

After digging a very large snow hole and burying all our gear, we took off downhill. Home sweet home and burritos were calling our names. A relaxing evening and a filling meal. The simple pleasures of mountain life We hope to wake up to slightly better weather tomorrow, so please cross your fingers for us!

Cheers,

Jack and the Team

Hola friends,

As we watched the winds continue to move across the upper mountain, we kept doing what we’ve done this entire expedition — gathering information, having honest conversations, and making thoughtful decisions with the reality in front of us.

The truth is this: we can prepare perfectly and still not be promised the summit.

Over the past weeks, this team has done everything within their control. We carried heavy loads when it would have been easier not to. We rested when rest felt unnatural. We ate when we weren’t hungry. We drank water when it was freezing. We managed headaches, wind, and the slow grind of altitude. We adapted when the forecast changed. We showed up for each other.

We put ourselves in position.

And that’s not a small thing.

Many other teams descended but we kept hope and we kept trying.

But Aconcagua does not negotiate. She doesn’t bend to training plans, travel schedules, or how badly we want it. The winds remained strong enough that continuing higher would have crossed the line from determined into unsafe.

So at 21,400 feet on the Grand Traverse, we made the call.

Turning around is never dramatic in the moment. It’s measured. It’s a look at each other and a nod of the head.  It’s built on experience and trust. And on big mountains, it’s often the decision that defines a team more than a summit photo ever could.

No one here failed. No one fell short. This team did the work. They earned the chance. And sometimes earning the chance — and having the wisdom to step back when the mountain says no — is the deeper success.

We walk down proud.

And grateful.

And ready for a shower and warmth.

RMI Guide Jess Wedel and the A-team

After the team has trickled in to Mexico City over the past two days, we all met up for a team meeting followed by a group dinner. Some folks traveled outside of the city to site see some historic pyramids while others stayed close and roamed the city museums. 

Today we head to La malinche cabins where we plan to go for an evening walk before eating dinner and getting ready for tomorrow’s hike ! 

We are sending  all of our warm thoughts to Bill, whom had to go home due to his family’s donkey ( Simone ) falling ill. We miss you already Bill! 

RMI Guide Lacie Smtih

Day two in Ecuador and we are already tagging 15,000'! The teleferico (gondola) whisked us up to 13,000, and then we started the hike through the gently rolling highlands below Rucu Pichincha. Swirling clouds throughout the day kept us from getting our first views of Cayambe and Cotopaxi, but also kept the sun at bay and made for pleasant hiking temperatures. After an hour or so of hiking through the grasslands the gradient kicked up and we started to pick up elevation quickly, traversing exposed slopes around to the far side of the peak, where a short but fun scramble brought us to the summit of Rucu Pichincha at 15,407'. With overcast skies and rain in the forecast we were on the lookout for afternoon thunderstorms, but the team moved well and we made quick work of the descent before any rain drops could reach us. 

Now we're all back at Hotel Mercure to rest the legs, dry out our trail shoes and pack up to leave the big city tomorrow. The team is feeling strong, psyched and ready for Cayambe! 

RMI Guide Henry Coppolillo

Monday, February 2, 2026 - 7:00 pm PT

We’re off to the races. Today marks the start of our trip, and while we are not trekking just yet, we managed to pack in plenty of sightseeing.

The morning began bright and early, traveling along the Strait of Magellan to Isla Magdalena, a small island about an hour and a half away by boat, to spend time among the penguins. What a place. Penguins and a wide assortment of seabirds stretch as far as the eye can see. Honks, chirps, and the whistling wind fill the air as we walk among them, pause for the habitual jaywalkers to cross, and then continue on. The penguins seem completely unfazed by our presence, waddling past with total confidence and a complete lack of athleticism, going about their routines as if we are just another feature of the landscape. An incredible experience and a perfect way to begin the journey.

We have now picked up the last of our teammates, delayed by the infamous snowy weather the Carolinas are known for, and settled into Puerto Natales, our launch pad for the trek. Gear checks, souvenir shopping, and a much needed rest await us tomorrow. We are excited to be here in this fjord side town and ready to begin the trek ahead.

RMI Guide Dominic Cifelli