Climbing Mexico’s Highest Peaks

Exploring the peaks of La Malinche, Iztaccíhuatl, and Pico de Orizaba

¡Vamos! We rose before dawn to climb La Malinche in Mexico’s La Malinche National Park. The volcano offers a unique experience to a Californian like me. At 14,567 feet, it stands taller than any peak in my home state. Pine trees grow on its shoulders at elevations thousands of feet higher than on Sierra Nevada mountains. But the thing I’ll remember most about the ascent is the company I enjoyed, and not just my fellow climbers. In a first for me, a pack of wild and friendly dogs followed us to the summit and back.

Though I’ve stood upon hundreds of mountain summits, only a few times have I climbed outside the western United States. I’m not qualified for or interested in dangerous peaks like Mount Everest or K2, but an international climbing experience intrigued me. Then a few years of Spanish classes elevated my desire to visit Spanish-speaking countries. The Mexican volcanoes trilogy of La Malinche, Iztaccíhuatl and Pico de Orizaba offered adventure within my ability range and budget. I packed my crampons and ice axe for a week south of the border.

Like many mountains, La Malinche boasts an interesting history to go with its physical challenge. A legend says that a reptilian monster lived inside the mountain and emerged to devour children. The peak’s Mexican name honors a Nahua woman who served as interpreter to Spanish conquistador Hernán Cortés; Mexicans today view her as either a victim, survivor or traitor. My companions and I pondered La Malinche’s stories as we descended with our new furry friends.

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¡Próxima! Iztaccíhuatl, a 17,160-foot volcano in Iztaccíhuatl–Popocatépetl National Park, provided our next challenge. Izta’s name comes from an Indigenous word meaning “white woman” because its peaks look like a woman lying on her back, and snow colors her white. She is also called La Mujer Dormida, or the sleeping woman. “I hope she doesn’t roll over while we’re climbing,” said another climber.

We camped near Izta’s base at 12,000 feet, tried to sleep at 6pm, rose at midnight and started climbing at 1am The temperature was comfortable at first but dropped well below freezing, as my icy water bottle proved. During a break, mice scampered into my food bag and made me shake them out! Before dawn, we saw the distant lights of both Mexico City and Puebla.

One steep and icy section near the top required crampons. I held my breath and gripped my ice axe tensely as I traversed this hazard. A fall here would send a climber hurtling far and fast down the mountain, muy malo. Thankfully, we all passed safely through the danger.

Popocatépetl, a nearby active volcano, caught our attention. An Aztec legend connects the two mountains: the princess Iztaccíhuatl died of grief when she was falsely told her beloved Popocatépetl perished in battle. The gods made them both mountains, and Popo still spouts smoke and ash in fury at his loss.

But reaching the summit at 8am delighted the six climbers on our team. ¡Muy felixz! We huddled together for a joyful group hug before starting the long walk back.

¡Una más! Pico de Orizaba, 18,491 feet tall and the highest peak in Mexico, summoned us for a final challenge. A great eagle fell and became the mountain, according to a native legend. Both steeper and colder than the other volcanoes, Pico was the highest peak that most climbers in our group had ever attempted. When one expressed doubts that we could succeed, our Mexican guide Cristian said, “¡Sí se puede!”

We camped at 13,000 feet in Pico de Orizaba National Park to acclimatize, rose at midnight and hiked at 1:30am The “trail” to the mountain was a maze of rock, snow and ice. Cristian led us in the darkness.

At 4am, we got out our harnesses, ice axes, crampons and rope for the main event: a long push up Pico’s northern glacier. My friend Kevin, Cristian and I roped together on the icy slope that seemed to go on forever and got steeper as we ascended. There was no place to rest, and since we were roped, we had to climb at exactly the same pace. We eventually found a rhythm that we could all handle: step, breathe, repeat.

Progress felt painfully slow, but we seemed to climb faster than the others on the mountain, whose headlamps we could see. We labored in the dark for hours until finally day broke on the horizon. Then the sun cast a shadow of Orizaba that stretched for miles in the shape of a giant pyramid.

¡Hurra! We reached the summit at 7:30am Another party welcomed us with congratulations and hugs. We lingered to rest and enjoy the view of the surrounding mountains, including the other two that we had climbed. Two from our group had to turn around with altitude sickness, but a Russian named Anna summited about an hour later. All that was left was a tough three-hour descent to camp followed by a long drive back to Puebla and a joyful victory fiesta.

Climbing the highest mountains in Mexico was a thrilling way for me to combine my modest athletic ability with my even more limited Spanish skill. I’ll never be a world-class climber, but I learned that those of us who aren’t can still see more of the world through climbing. The experience made me grateful for my night school Spanish lessons, which helped me bond with our first-rate guides. Cristian, Angel and Danny made our adventure exciting, rewarding and safe. ¡Gracias, amigos!

MAIN IMAGE: Photo of climbers on the summit of Istacchihuatl. Photo by Dave Miller / International Alpine Guides

Read more articles by Matt Johanson