Volcan Maderas, Isla de Ometepe

Unsurprisingly, we hear them before we see them, their large swooping grunting bellows reverberating through the trees as the sun just begins to set.  Howler monkies. Isla de Ometepe is known for them - along with its green parrots and its beautiful blue-tailed urracas, already well familiar to me from Salinas.  But monkies and exotic birds nothwithstanding, Isla de Ometepe - which loosely translated from the indigenous Nahuatl language means ΅the place of two hills" - is really most famous for its two volcanos and tomorrow we will climb one, Volcan Maderas, allegedly the lesser daunting of the two.  Meanwhile the howler monkies howl, sounding more like ancient volcano mountain dinosaurs then the cheeky monkies I met in India or Nepal.

Their ominous roars greet me as well at dawn break the next morning.

**

Torres del Paine had the wind.  The Annapurnha Circuit had snow and ice.  Volcan Maderas is officially going down in my personal book of hiking records for its mud.  Like so:  Volcan Maderas = MUD. Oodles and oodles of it, glistening on the rocks we have to climb at a veritable vertical incline of 1394 meters all the way up to reach the crater lake and cloud forest views above.

It is brutal.   We'd heard stories, though mostly about how Maderas was nowhere near as "arduous as the steep climb up and down Volcan Conception." Oh good, what a relief.  But when you haven't actually climbed Volcan Conception and your concept of "steep up and down" consists mostly of staircases nothing can really prepare you for what it means to climb a volcano on a tropical island. 



Deceptive little sign

Fortunately for us it is still the dry season, or the tail end of it.  Otherwise, our trusty guide Levis assures us, we would be paddling in mud. Still, my hiking boots are caked in it, the entire length of my calves are covered in it, and my ass at one point manages to land in it.  The discrete hand painted sign at the trail head when we start informs us it is only a 5 km walk to the laguna but that it will take us 4 hours to get there.  Ha! I think.  Clearly that sign is meant for lazy, inexperienced hikers.  About 4 hours later the panting lot of us finally reach the top - my friend Tim; lanky Frenchman Stephan; sweet, muscle building 21 year old Canadian Boris; Levis; and I.
The lagune itself is underwhelming so much so that that despite my exhausted mud and sweat covered body I opt not to swim in it.  Tim and Boris do though and they walk in until they are knee deep in silky silty mud before flopping unto their bellies to swim out in foot-deep water to the middle of the lake.  I take pictures.  Then we sit on the grassy banks to soak up some sun, eat our moist chicken sandwiches and gather our collective breath.

At 1 pm Levis asks us "listos?"  I mentally answer no but I am ready to just get this over with.  What comes up must come down.

**

Back at Finca Magdelena seven hours later, I sip my ice cold Coke from a glass with lots of ice in it and gaze with mute admiration at Volcan Conception off in the distance.  It will take me about 20 minutes to get the mud off my legs with toilet paper and fingernails after I shower.  Dinner that night will consist of the best rice and beans I have ever tasted.  I will sleep very soundly for 9 hours straight.  And I will never climb another volcano ever again.