Climbing Aconcagua - Philosphy and Preparation Part 1

Humble beginnings on Quandary Peak, Colorado 1999

On Kala Patthar with view of Everest and Nuptse in 2010

Rick Hoffman is a retired mechanical engineer living in Silverthorne, Colorado. In the summer he spends his time hiking Colorado’s “14ers,” while in the winter alpine and telemark skiing. He has climbed all fifty-four Colorado’s 14,000 foot peaks.


On January 17, 2004, my son Mark was high. In fact, at that moment he was the highest person on the planet. He was on the summit of Aconcagua, the highest peak in the Western Hemisphere, at 22,834 feet or nearly 7000 meters. Since no one climbs the giant peaks in the Himalaya or Karakoram at this time of the year, no person on the planet was at a higher elevation than Mark. More about that later.

I am writing this story as a favor to my close high school friend Scott Sturman, who, like me, has developed a love of the mountains. I am also writing this story for those of you who think you are too old, too out of shape, too soft, too ill or too whatever to pursue your dreams. You see I am no athlete and have physical restrictions just like many people. I have some serious lung issues, not the best ailment for someone who likes to climb high peaks. However, what I do have is a passion for the outdoors, perseverance to get something done despite some physical discomfort and some great doctors who have helped me. I also have forethought to prepare for these trips so I am not physically miserable or put my life in danger because I forgot critical gear or made stupid mistakes. I also know when I am over my head and need a guide to hold the rope or find the route (which is most of the time).

This year I turned 61 standing on the summit of Kala Patthar at 18,300 feet with an amazing view of Everest and a few days later reached the summit of Island Peak at 20,300 ft. You can experience these dreams in your later years. Run a marathon, climb Kilimanjaro, skydive, heli-ski or whatever your dream is. Sure there is risk. There are risks everywhere. Get a good guide or instructor and live a little. You only have so many days on the planet. You can rest when you are dead.

This story really begins on my 50th birthday when I managed to climb my first mountain, Quandary, one of the easiest of Colorado’s fifty-four 14,000 foot peaks. It was the hardest thing I had ever done. My wife always asks why I did not do this when I was in my 20’s and 30’s, when a close friend climbed the fifty-four 14ers. Good question. Anyway in 1999 at age 50 gasping and worn out I reached the summit of Quandary. I thought about giving up at 13,000 feet thinking that was a good day for an old guy, but young people coming down from the summit encouraged me and told me how close it was to the top. This reminds me of our Kilimanjaro guide who always said, “Camp close, one hour more.” Four hours later it was, “Camp close, one hour more.”

All of a sudden on Quandary I could climb no higher. I was on the summit of a real mountain. Vistas stretched to the horizon. I could see many of the other big Colorado peaks as veteran 14er climbers pointed them out. I ate, drank and took in the amazing feeling of being on a big peak. The trip down was uneventful and that night we drove to Laramie, Wyoming for a fraternity reunion. I hardly could get out of the truck after driving for three hours. Still it felt great, painful but great.

The summer of 2000 I did 15 more of the peaks with my son and friends ending with the fun and somewhat challenging Longs Peak in Rocky Mountain National Park. In 2002 my son and I climbed Kilimanjaro in Africa, said to be Everyman’s Everest, at 19,340 ft. This climb gave us confidence to try something more challenging. Aconcagua seemed to be a logical choice. Although it was very high and the weather could be bad including wind speeds in excess of hurricane velocity, it posed no dramatic technical challenges, a walk up ….. at 7,000 meters.

Our preparation began a year in advance since equipment and physical training would be important. We climbed Kilimanjaro in clothing like you might wear on a cold ski day. However, Aconcagua was a different animal requiring upgrades to true high altitude mountaineering gear. We acquired plastic double insulated mountaineering boots, crampons (ice spikes that fit on our boots), mountaineering parkas and minus 40 degree sleeping bags. Gear was expensive but when you are freezing to death the cost of a top notch sleeping bag is insignificant. The boots cost four hundred bucks, but, hey, that’s only $40 a toe, pretty cheap I would say. I tried to be creative on training like going to the top of Loveland Pass at 12,000 feet and climbing with a heavy pack to 13,000 feet on December 27th, pitching a tent in high wind and spending the night. Tourists taking the quick Continental Divide photo at the sign at the top of the pass in the below zero windy, conditions thought I was totally insane as I headed up the slope to camp for the night. Actually they were right. That night my experience fell into the category of, “What does not kill you, makes you stronger.”

Staying healthy on the three week expedition was critical, so we laid in supplies of water purification equipment and tablets and a range of drugs to cover various problems. We started a physical training regimen of climbing, swimming, and hiking to get in shape, lose weight, and toughen up our feet for the one hundred mile hike it would take to climb the mountain.

We departed Denver in early January for the thirty hour trip to Mendoza, Argentina. We saw Aconcagua from the plane when we flew from Santiago, Chile to Mendoza, Argentina. It did not look too bad except the summit was very close to the plane.