Hiking Izalco Volcano, El Salvador

My friend Nick and I were ending a semester abroad in the Yucatan
Peninsula of Mexico, and decided to spend three weeks backpacking
one of the most beautiful regions in the Americas. As we made our
way through Central America, one of the highlights was a hike up
Mount Izalco, one of El Salvador's many volcanoes. The park was absolutely
breath-taking, offering a wonderful view of Mt. Izalco from the
top. Of course, this meant that we had to descend a steep 1,500
steps to arrive at the base of the towering volcano, but the verdant
scenery more than makes up for the effort. Among our climbing group
were John Guiliano of Tamarindo Touring Company and a group of kids from his
Tamarindo foundation. The kids bounded ahead of us down the trail,
determined to be the first climbers to ascend the (active!)
volcano.


It took over an hour to climb, but the ashy, barren rock
of Izalco made for a striking contrast with the unbelievable
greenness of the surrounding hills. As we reached the top and
caught our breath, it felt as though we were on top of the world.


There is something so wondrous about standing on the steaming,
sulfur-belching mountain that at one time formed the geography of
the region with its yearly eruptions. It struck me that Mt. Izalco
is both a source of destruction and renewal, burying the land
violently with lava and yet providing a source of wonderfully rich
soil. We spent a few minutes resting at the top, covered in little
red aphids which, the kids solemnly informed us, "bite like crazy".
As the Tamarindos dutifully flicked the aphids off each other, we
had a snack and took some pictures of the glorious view. Then came
the descent, which was an adventure in and of itself! In my
spartanistic planning for our backpacking adventure, I had
calculated that only one pair of shoes was needed, and that pair
happened to be open toed. The ascent had been no trouble, just as
long as I stepped carefully around the sharp dried magma rocks.
However, the descent strategy was, shall I say, more of a "slide and
recover" strategy.

It was much quicker, but my feet did get a bit
scratched up. One of our wonderful security guards helped me
balance as I picked a few needle-like bits of rock out of my shoes.
Then came the 1,500 steps back up to the National Park, where we
discovered that the last bus for Santa Ana had already left. But,
in characteristic Salvadoran fashion, the Tamarindos offered us a
ride to town in their bus. We had so much fun listening to them
play the guitar (they even knew Sweet Home Alabama), and generally
basking in the beauty of El Salvador and its wonderful people. It
was an experience I will never forget!