Sunday 12/8/12 – ‘Mystery on the Mountain’ by Jenna Stevens

Following our return from base camp the previous afternoon, we had enjoyed a slightly better sleep and were ready to enjoy a pleasant walk to the thermal springs. Following a leisurely hearty breakfast of porridge, fruit flakes and tea (many thanks to our surrogate mum Cath), we got our swimming cosies ready and packed our day sacks with more crackers for lunch. It was about 11.30, and we were almost ready to leave the hostel, when Damien came to find us ‘there’s an emergency on the mountain’. The guide with our group had contacted the hostel owner Marcello. There was a male on the mountain who had suspected HACE and had fallen unconscious. This later became a female who was drifting in and out of consciousness. They were making their way back from the summit and were now at approximately 6200m. How were we going to get to them? Would we be able to get oxygen up the mountain? If we did get to them, how were we going to get them down? Would we get sick too? An action plan was hatched! Another guide was already en route to help the guide already up there bring the patient to a meeting point. We would be taken up in a 4X4 ambulance to 5200m, along with 2 paramedics from the ambulance. The local health centre could give us a supply of oxygen. I packed my bag with the remainder of the drugs to treat HACE from the medical kit left at the hostel, along with a few cannulae and some fluids which I had been trying to warm in my down jacket! Whilst we were up on the mountain, Marcello would arrange for an ambulance to meet us at the Bolivian Chilean border to take the patient back to a sea level hospital in Arica, once off the mountain. We set off from the hostel around 1pm. We (myself, Damien and Mark) squeezed in the back of the 4X4 along with 2 ‘paramedics’ and a doctor called Marybell, who spoke broken English, from the health centre. In the front was the driver, his wife the ‘nurse’ and their small child! We travelled along the main road for a few bumpy kms, passing some of our group on their way back to the hostel after camping out by the lake the night before, until we turned off right up a steep mixed dust and rocky track. After a few even more bumpy and hairy manoueveres in an attempt to negotiate a sharp steep rocky section, the engine stalled. We all jumped out of the back, and watched as the driver, after a few attempts, managed to negotiate the rocks. We all squeezed back in. Unfortunately, after only a few more hundred metres, the same thing happened again, only this time we jumped out to the pleasant aroma of a burnt out clutch! The driver had a look under the bonnet, whilst making a few grunts and groans, as all men seem to do in these situations. There didn’t seem to be any sense of urgency with these guys, so I suggested maybe we should start to walk. The paramedics started to gear up, although they didn’t have much to put their gear in. They borrowed Marks rucksack to put the oxygen cylinder in, and my head torch. We explained to Dr Marybell what dose of dexamethasone should be given and nervously handed over the drugs and fluids, along with the cannulae, to the ‘paramedics’ too. We were reassured that ‘they know what they are doing’. The ‘paramedics’ and Dr Marybell, dressed in her leather fashion boots and silver fashion ‘space jacket’, as Damien called it, set off up the path towards the mountain. From the position that we had stopped, the mountain was only just in sight, so I also started walking to see if I could reach a point with a better view. After about 20 minutes of puffing and panting up the hill, I reached the car park, where the 4X4 was meant to have stopped, to find the ‘paramedics’ and Marybell stopped once again. One of the paramedics was changing his trousers. I gestured to the other, that maybe if he wore his mountain boots he may not have to carry so much weight. He looked at me and smiled, as if to say ‘no estiante’. They set off once again, approximately 14.15 after saying that they were going to be 3 hours, although I wasn’t sure if this was for them to reach the patient or for them to return back down the mountain. From the car park, which was high up on a moraine, (which turned out to be about 4900m and not 5200m as we first believed) with base camp below to the right, the steep cliffs of Sajama in front, with the summit ahead in the distance, I could see the traverse of the mountain and the route up to high camp. I could make out little black dots of people on the mountain, but couldn’t make out who the little black dots were – if only I had borrowed Tom’s binoculars! Mark had decided to follow me up the path too. He had brought up my rucksack with some fluids, snacks and warm layers. We sat for quite a while trying to make out where the paramedics were on the mountain. They had disappeared from sight. We saw many people walking off the mountain towards base camp but never saw anyone walking up. It was about 16.30 when we decided to walk back down towards the jeep. It was getting a little nippy and we were wondering whether the jeep was ever going to make it up to the car park. On our way back to the jeep we saw what we thought to be a small mammal stood on a prominent rock peering up the mountain, almost meerkat like in appearance. As we got closer, we soon realised that it was in fact Damien! We still had no news of what was happening on the mountain. The ambulance driver had given up on trying to get any further up and had taken 20 minutes to turn the jeep around. We stood talking for around a further 30 minutes before we saw a Sajama national park ranger truck heading up the track towards us. It continued passed us, so clearly the driver was doing a better job than our own driver! About 5 minutes later, the jeep was on its way back down. We gestured and they stopped. In the back of the truck were the 2 ‘paramedics’ and Marybell. It was a ‘false alarm’ ‘False alarm’?? Marybell said that the patient was well and walking back down to base camp. The remainder of the group were ok and also heading back to base camp. Amid much confusion on our part, the ‘paramedics’ handed over our kit, drugs and fluids, and headed back down the mountain in the jeep with the national park guys. We jumped in the back of the clutchless 4X4 ambulance, with Marybell, and headed back too, still not really sure what had been happening on the mountain. After another rather rocky and bumpy journey we made it back to the hostel as dusk fell. We arrived back at the hostel to hear about the actual events on the mountain that day!

Mount Sajama by Paul O’Connell

The journey from base camp to high camp wasn't as arduous as I'd expected. Not because I was any less out of breath as I struggled up the scree slopes, but because I was getting used to feeling like I was perpetually sprinting, and starting to realise that eventually the guide would stop for a breather. The porters had gone ahead and erected our tents on a precipitous ledge at around 5700m. Spirits were high as we arrived and began melting down penetentes for drinking water (ice spikes unique to these mountains). Preparations were made for a 6pm bed time and a 1am start for the summit attempt. Sleep was illusive mostly due to nervous excitement and I was fully awake before midnight. The 18 of us had organised ourselves into rope teams of 3 for the summit but one of my team became increasingly ill with AMS during the night and decided not to attempt the summit. I moved to join the guide on his rope team. A slight delay in departure left the guide impatient to get going. We started out with crampons and ice axes but not roped together. The first hour was an arduous slog through penetentes and steep scree to the start of a narrow ridge where we all huddled from the icey wind whilst we roped into our teams. Head torches lit a small patch of snow in front of each climber. I was aware of my team mates but very alone with my fear on the snow ridge. The blackness of the night was the main saving grace allowing me to pretend that there were no plummeting drops either side of me. The ridge steepened and the suddenly rose into a snow and ice climb. This was the long section where we had been promised that a fixed line would be in place making the climb much easier and safer. The fixed line wasn't there. About 10m into the climb I had a sudden and very cold realisation that I was totally out of my depth. I was endangering myself and the team because I didn't have the necessary skills to do this climb even in daylight and with normal levels of oxygen. We hadn't prepared for this. My crampons were in danger of cutting the rope, I couldn't get the ice axe to grip the wall, I was cold, nervous, tired and would have to down-climb this slope if I continued. I turned to my rope partner who had been recently starting to feel nauseous and said 'do you think it would be a massive inconvenience if I told the guide I was not feeling safe?' To my immense relief his reply came 'I'm right with you buddy'. The guide quickly untied the two of us and replaced us with 2 more experienced climbers. This new team of 4 was the only one to go on to the summit. The down climb and ridge crossing in the dark and now gusting wind proved that I had made the correct decision. We picked up another climber on the way down to make a team of three and luckily our decision had very little adverse effect on the others. We passed another team on the way down who told us that we had reached 5950m, higher that Mt Kilimanjaro, not bad for a first summit attempt over 6000. The route back to high camp was harder than expected. Thankfully there were 4 people already there one of whom had hung a tiny glow stick on his tent, without this I'm not sure we would have found the camp. We followed the red glow down the scree and across the penetentes with a few heart stopping falls and eventually we literally collapsed into our tents at around 5am. I woke to the sound of another team returning and it was daylight. They had turned back at around 6300m due to the cold and altitude effecting one of the team's vision. After a bit more sleep I left the tent. The base camp group was transfixed watching the mountain and one of our teams who were visibly stuck and not moving at the top of the climb section. They were mainly stationary and would occasionally move one way and back across the top of the climb. We speculated for hours as to what might be happening. Were they lost, injured, ill from the cold? All we could do was prepare high camp as best we could. Those who were ill at high camp went on down to base camp. Eventually the team on the mountain began to make moves down the slope, some climbing, some abseiling. A team of 3 medics from high camp decided to go up to the ridge to meet the descending teams taking fluids and medication with them. Eventually and after some help from the medics the remaining 9 climbers trickled back to high camp around 13 hours after we set-out. They were met with snacks, fluids and TLC. It transpired that the group we had been watching on the slope had had one of their team members almost completely blinded due to the altitude. This had massively slowed their return once they had realised the seriousness of the problem and they had then had to wait for reasonable sight to return before attempting the down-climb of the steep section. At high camp priority groups were organised to return to base camp whilst the rest of us and the porters packed up the camp. The last bedraggled team member arrived into base camp after 5pm, 16 hours after setting out from high camp. All recovered to health and full eye sight after a day or so. For some of the team to have summitted was an achievement shared equally among the whole team at high camp, base camp, Sajama village and back in the UK even though we weren't all stood on the summit with them. It was an adventure that will stay with me forever as will the feeling of connectedness with the team members.

Day 13 - Unlucky for some? by Jamie Grieg

Our last day in Parinacota started in much the same way as previous days, with the standard Chilean greeting of “TE, CAFE, EXTRA?” from the ‘Gruffalo’. We were all getting the hang of the Chilean breakfast scene and the sight of pale circular meat products did not course much alarm, though the announcement from Victor and his female colleague that we must be on the bus by 08:30 (~10minutes time) caused a slight panic. By 9 we were on the coach and moving, with my day being improved somewhat by the driver mistaking me for Leonardo Dicaprio. After a short stop at Lake Chungara which consisted of a group photo of us all trampling over protected habitats we were at the Chilean border crossing. A few cheeky manoeuvres got us past the queue of around 40 trucks and were in the no-man’s land between the two crossings. It was at this point that Luke decided his contraband smuggling reputation must go no further and he launched around a kilo of Chile’s finest cheese out of the window and into the desert. This turned out to be an unnecessary manoeuvre as it was discovered a bar of chocolate and a wink is enough to get 30 people’s worth of expedition nosh through Bolivian customs! We were greeted in Sajama by Marco who had organised our guide, accommodation and equipment for Sajama and the team quickly busied themselves with preparations for the climb. Things get serious tomorrow as we begin our ascent of Sajama – good luck to everyone!

Day 12 – “A holiday – day at the lakes and sink or swim at the Hostel” by Mari Roberts

Day 12 started with a much appreciated lie-in and late breakfast. With most people’s legs feeling the effects of yesterday’s big climb – a gentle walk to the lakes was planned. Most of the gang took this option whilst a small number decided to stay behind and do some washing!! Missing their mothers, no doubt! Half the ‘lakes’ group headed off with Carlos, choosing an undulating route which allowed us our first glimpse of Sajama. Carlos proved to himself, yet again to be an ‘exceptional’ guide by getting us lost! Navigation along the clearly marked path was handed onto Paul who led the group to a beautiful lakeside beach for lunch. The other ‘lakes’ group chose the flat more direct route and soon joined us for some chilled out holiday beach time. So that I add a little detail to this diary – the name of the lakes was “Hagunas Cotacotan” part of “Reservon de la Biosfera Lalica.” From our beach, many went for a further walk to explore the lakes, others enjoyed some bouldering whilst the remainder (incl myself) messed around the beach getting some great jumping pics, and sand in every orifice (ask Jen for further details of orfices!) After returning to the hostel and de-sanding we all got together for a rope skills session. I think it is fair to say that the majority of us started to feel quite apprehensive about Mount Sajama. At dinner Rich D gave us the low down on the catalogue of events that had occurred at the hostel. First of all the copious amounts of clothes washing that we had been doing over the last few days had blocked the sinks. Then in an attempt to get a warm shower a certain boy was informed that if the cold sink tap water was left running then the shower would run hot. Of course doing this with a blocked sink resulted in flood carnage. To complete the trio of disasters - probably the gentlest man on the trip managed to break the glass on the dinner table top with his cup. A freak accident that ended up in us paying 40,000 pesos. It is clear that the owners cannot wait to see the back of us! A game of cards cheered us up before bed. Bolivia tomorrow!!

Day 11 – “I Guaneguane summit this mountain!” by Russell Townsend

Day 11 started with day 2 of the “eggstra breakfasts”. For those of us who ordered extra food we had muchos bread and muchos eggs (very very fried!) and those that didn’t had bread and what was apparently cheese... After breakfast, the group set off to summit a nearby mountain called Guaneguane (“Wanny-Wanny”): a respectable peak of 5050m high. It soon became apparent that some people were walking faster than others (I was in the slow group). We split into two groups – ours, the slower group was terms, ‘Team Sensible’. Team Sensible was led by Mark, who took us to the opposite side of the mountain as the other team. We enjoyed zig-zagging up for a little while, as well as debating what zig-zagging meant. Does zig mean turning right? Does zag mean going left? Or is zig the first way you turn? Answers on a postcard please. We stopped for lunch after zig sagging. A lot more salami was consumed as well as chugging down a carton of juice. We said goodbye to small group who summitted smaller peak as we plodded up Guaneguane. ‘Team Sensible’ eventually reached the summit (having been beaten by the OTHER team by only about 20 minutes!) and we looked around at what we achieved. We were standing in Chile & could see the valley, Peru and Bolivia – not a bad view! Unfortunately, nature called atop the peak and I joined the 5000m club (i.e. a very high number 2!) - a very exclusive club... We took some photos with Parinacota + Pomerape in the background and renamed our group ‘Team Condor’. The condors assembled and we started our descent. The descent included an INCREDIBLE downhill jog on some scree (loose rock). A cross between jogging and skiing, we dubbed it screeing. It was more fun that we had had in a long time (if not a little dusty). The rest of the journey was relatively non-eventful (apart from losing Anna in a bog up to her thighs). Unfortunately she got helped out before we could get some photos – we’ll never forget the smell though and neither will her boots... We all helped each other home as we were all completely shattered (thanks folks!). We got back tot he hostel and showered, drank litres and litres of water before settling in for dinner & bed. A great day out!

Day 10 - “Parinacota Physiology” by DM Bailey

Today sees the last of the experimental tests conducted at our make-shift high-altitude laboratory, Parinacota Hostel, based at 4,600 m. It’s been a long haul and we’re excited at the prospect of completing a unique study that has built on the best part of 10 years worth of research. In essence, we’re trying to understand precisely what makes the female brain more resistant to the inspiratory hypoxia (lack of oxygen) of high-altitude. Much to the chagrin of the macho-male mountaineer, females seem to cope better at high-altitude and suffer with less acute mountain sickness, a syndrome characterised by the dreaded “hangover-headache” and associated symptoms. We’re slowly unravelling the mechanisms that allow them to acclimatise so much faster than us (lesser!) males. There are clinical parallels to be made too; females outlive us males and the incidence of brain disease is far lower. Could there be a common link explained by their superior ability to preserve oxygen delivery to the brain? It all sounds quite intuitive though you can never under-estimate the challenges posed by field research. My colleagues Dr Julien Brugniaux and Luke Liddle (baptism of fire as a research student!) turn up to the Brain-Lab dressed ready for action; hats, mits, down-jackets and Sportivas! It’s freezing and equipment and experimenter alike don’t take kindly to a cold start! Our participant is sitting quietly with eyes closed (still snoozing!) as we busy ourselves around her. Electrodes to monitor heart rate (electrocardiography), optodes on the forehead to measure changes in cortical oxygenation (near infra-red spectroscopy), a finger cuff that measures beat-by-beat arterial blood pressure (photoplethysmography) and the joys of freezing gel at the side of her head (not for the purposes of hairstyling) to measure cerebral blood flow (transcranial Doppler ultrasonography). Ten minutes later and our participant looks like an extra out of Star Wars! First challenge is to simply keep her rested, eyes closed (no brain activation) as Luke whispers “breathe through your mouth” to avoid the complications of carbon dioxide retention and prevent blood flow to the brain from bouncing up and down. We’re using a technique known as transfer function analysis to assess cerebral autoregulation, a test that will reveal how well her brain buffers acute surges in blood pressure. We know that the male brain’s “shock-absorber” doesn’t work quite so well at high-altitude which may be tied in to their increased susceptibility to acute mountain sickness. Flanked by Julien and Luke (since most of the males become faint), we ask her to stand as part of an orthostatic stress test and note the initial drop in brain blood flow and oxygen, encouraged by such a rapid recovery to baseline. The males’ recovery is way more “sluggish” as we move on to the next challenge; an ambitious 45 second breath-hold designed to measure how reactive her (cerebral) circulation is to carbon dioxide. Brain blood flow increases with every passing second and then comes the heavy-breathing challenge; three minutes of controlled hyperventilation designed to swing carbon dioxide in the opposite direction and see how quickly brain blood flow drops. Again, it’s clear to see that her circulation is impressively “reactive” as we recover her back to baseline prior to de-instrumentation and then on with the next slew of complementary tests designed to assess arterial stiffness and mental agility (to determine if females have floppier vessels and improved cognitive function). All-in-all, the various tests take the best part of 4 hours and participant compliance is quite impressive! We’ve completed all experimentation and the research objective has been accomplished. Our data set is quite impressive. We’ve modelled the (male versus female) brain’s acute response to simulated high-altitude (4,600 m) in the environmental chamber based at the University of Glamorgan and its longer-term ability to acclimatise to the same hypoxic stimulus to the terrestrial high-altitude of Parinacota, which incidentally is far more aesthetic (see Jess Christley’s blog of her sobering experience as a research participant in what she affectionately coins the silver-lift!). With the science complete, an enduring question percolates through the camp. Will these physiological tests be able to predict our group’s summit success on Mt. Sajama? Will the females “outperform” the males? Only time will tell...though male nerves are already jangling for fear of being outgunned!

Day 9 – At Parinacota by Tom Cayless

After the first night sleeping in sleeping bags, the group awoke at the “Albergue Uta Kala Don Leo Parinacota” (hostel). The first challenge of the day was the dangerously wired showers. Luckily, these were negotiated without any fatalities! However, the water was not always hot... A single bread roll for breakfast prevented anyone overeating. The rest of the day consisted of more testing, with some of the groups going off on small walks around the village area. Two members of the group appeared to be suffering from ‘flu-like’ symptoms but most of the group appear to be acclimatising well at rest.

Day 8 – On to Parinacota by Cath Pendleton

Our last day in Putre and we all enjoyed a lay-in as breakfast was not until 9am. Everyone enjoyed a delicious breakfast of scrambled egg, yoghurt, cheese and cereal. Then it was time to load up the bus for our journey onto Parinacota. The journey was mainly uneventful other than some flying food from the bus racks on a few corners. Arrived in the village of Parinacota (4392m) at 1pm – unloaded and bagsied beds to avoid a top bunk!! Some of the group enjoyed a walk around the village and a picnic lunch. It was time to start testing, which was not particularly pleasant as the hostel was freezing cold. Others relaxed and watched the Olympics in the warm dining room and a few spent the afternoon relaxing watching the alpacas and other wildlife. Finally it was dinner time and we were treated to a delicious big bowl of hearty soup (quinoa + veg with some alpaca pieces) followed by a main meal of alpaca steak and rice. It was then surprise time for ‘Julien’ we had not forgotten his birthday and we all burst into song ‘Happy Birthday to you!’ with some balloons bouncing around and he was given a hand-crafted card & chocolate.

Day 7 – Tarapaca by Aisling O’Brien

With the sounding of Cath’s robot alarm @ 4:20am, also known as stupid o’clock our day adventure to Tarapaca (5800m) began. A quick shower and dressing we were ready to board our 3 minibuses in the pitch dark @ 5am. While my hour long journey was filled with sleepy silence, one of the other buses was filled with shenanigans of forgotten boots and an experience to remember with a fire extinguisher and an expedition member’s close call to breaking the window behind him at the site of smoke in the bus. We were deposited @ 4700m and began to add as many layers as possible to stave off the biting -15C temperate; this included the addition of gaiters aided by 4 people and an ice axe. The aim for the day was acclimatising as much as possible and practising ice axe and crampon skills. Once everyone was ready we set off up the shale and scree slope. Many expedition members resembled sure-footed mountain goats and made easy work of the slope and gain in altitude while others took a slow and steady pace up the mountain. A few hundred meters up the scree slope, we divided into smaller groups; some heading to the summit, others 5000m+ and others to practice snow skills at a slightly lower altitude. With the groups divided, everyone carried on at their own pace and soon the summit crew were lost from view. The 5000m+ group followed suite and disappeared from view soon too. The slow and steady group, to which I belonged, plodded away up the scree slope. After several hours uphill walk, we made the group decision to turn around and descend as members were beginning to feel rough! Descending the shale and scree slope was much easier and much more enjoyable than going up it! What took us several hours uphill took us minutes to descend. At the base of the mountain where we made our base camp, we practised our snow skills, although some with O2 sats of 63% decided to sit that one out and relax instead. Although basking in the sun was fun, myself, Rhodri & John K went in search of mobile coverage to organise the earlier return of minibuses. We managed to flag down a passing police car and with wild gesturing and my poorly broken Spanish we managed to get our message across and they would make the call when they got coverage. Much to our relief the bus arrived about an hour later, just in time to collect the slow and steady group and the 5000m+ group (who had grown closer through a certain shared experience). A small group of 5 decided they hadn’t had enough walking / exercise for the day and walked home. The summit team made a valiant attempt but turned back just short of 5400m due to increasing AMS and knee high penitents. Once all returned to our hotel base, we rested for the afternoon, then descended upon the little restaurant with the open fire for our final 3 course meal. After we had all had our fill of fried fish (mine still had it’s eyes) we, with heavy hearts & many hearts said goodbye to two Swansea medics and wished them well on their homeward bound journey. After our goodbyes, we headed to bed for a well deserved sleep!

Update 15/8/12

Team Altiplano are back at sea level after adventures at high altitude. Final celebrations and goodbyes shall be held this evening before the team depart for home or travels tomorrow. The daily blog and photos shall follow shortly.

Day 6: Results Day by Nick Cochand

The sun was barely kissing the top of Taapaca (5800m)as a gaggle of down jacketed students braved the pre-dawn chill to check exam results. Relief for some disappointment for others and sadly two of the exped will be heading home early. Breakfast was followed by our second day walk. This time to hot springs to at 4000m! What luxury, although on pool proved to be so hot that after jumping in one member of the expedition jumped straight out causing our first minor-ish injury of the trip. The trip home led us through a cactus minefield with small spikey balls leaping to attack at every opportunity. A number of the team were spiked, one somehow managed to get spikes in his tongue - first outing for the expedition emergency dental kit which serendipously accompanied us to the springs. As the day wore on altitude was begining to take its toll on more of the team. Back st the hotel we basked in the sun. Some trying to coax a flame from the hypoxic MSR stove for a cup of coffee while a small outdoor theatre was set up for the suturing. The off to another cracking dinner and early bed before our 4.30am start for our ascent of Taapaca the next day. Lessons learnt: Dont lick cacti Lowest sats: 63% on air No of sutures: 6

Day 5: Dog Tired by Anna Woodman

On awakening at altitude our O2 sats and AMS (acute mountain sickness) scores were taken and found to be showing effects of 3500m. Breakfast was a luxury of bread, cereal, yoghurt, cheese & cocoa tea which was enjoyed by all. At 9am we set out on a gentle walk down the valley from Putre, where we were joined by a new team member - Steve, the dog. With sand under foot and the sun beaming down, we admired the scenary, without a single cloud in the sky. After approximately 6km we found shade beside rock paintings, but unfortunately had to turn back due to a landslide, despite no recorded rainfall in the desert. The walk back up the valley was accompanied by Steve who chased the local livestock and rounded up the team. We were met by a stampeed of cows and hopped over a wall before returning back to the town. The afternoon's events included resting for many however other activities included the fight to fit Yeti gaiters to boots, a lesson in rugby and ongoing research testing. Dinner was once again a delicious three course meal, next to the open fire. With full bellies and glowing cheeks, we headed to bed before 9pm. Good night & good luck to those who get their exam results in the morning.

Update 2/8/12

After a good day's acclimatisation trekking to the thermal springs we are preparing this evening, ready to climb Terapaka tomorrow. The team diary is being written & we shall upload day 5 & 6 on here as soon as time & technology allows.

Day 4: Ascent to Putre by John Murphy

The day began with a few final step tests and early morning runs for the more adventurous. Breakfast was met with a combination of excitement and surprise - bread rolls! Still, this wasn't with gusto as we fuelled up for the day of travel ahead. After fitting most of our kit back into our bags, we loaded up the bus for the journey to Putre. It was noted at this point that our poor overladen coach may be too great for the vehicle weight limit upon leaving Arica. Fortunately a van was procured by victor, our tour rep, to help transport some of the bags across the checkpoint. With that sorted we then continued into the desert, going higher and higher into the altiplano and more and more amazing scenery. Although only a few hours the journey had many highlights, including a visit to the first church in the highlands,seeing our first snowy peak, and, best of all; arriving with all luggage intact. After arriving slightly breathless we settled into the hotel and had some r and r for the afternoon. There was an opportunity to have a wander round the town of Putre which was small but more pleasant than Arica with a few tasty looking restaurants. Later brought a great game of cricket and a few lost balls before dinner at a restaurant down the road. Everyone was impressed by a delicious 3 courses including alpaca which was actually very good - far better than previous reports may have suggested! Everyone then headed to bed with reminders that the first nights sleep at altitude may not be the best.... John Murphy

Day Three: Operation food by Lisa Hinton.

The day got off to a good start today as the corridor rang out with cries of lost baggage arrival. This meant clean unborrowed pants for many. After yet another breakfast of two stale white rolls and apple jam (we think) the money changers were visited. This is an interesting venture for which it seems like the sight of the British clutching dollars lowers the exchange rate in a blink of an eye. Then began the major, and somewhat comical excursion of the day - the food team descent upon the supermarket. This was a complex logistical procedure, involving much planning, purchasing and charm. Feeding 32 hungry people for ten days with no fresh fruit and veg due to storage time and legalities of Bolivian borders is no mean feat. The local supermarket did not know what had hit it when six expedition members ransacked it's shelves. Then the money arrived. All 2 million Chilean pesos concealed in a coat pocket. With nine trolleys of dried, dehydrated, packaged, long life food to get through the tills, we were not the Chilean's favourite people, especially as it was peak lunch hour. We then had the epic challenge of how to get all this food back to the hotel, a good ten minute walk away. This was done the sensible way - simply wedge ones trolley into the escalator, proceed out of the store and wheel them down a bustling high street back to the hotel under the escort of three shop assistants. Once back the arduous task of divvying up the goods into 32 Corona boxed rations in the hotel lobby began, Operation Christmas Child style. Highlights of this included Russ opening a 1kg bag of hot chocolate over his shirt, shorts, feet and floor and the discovery that we had enough smash to feed 320 people!!! And so with our rations ready and bags packed we say goodbye to Arica tomorrow and head up to the dizzying heights of Putre at 3500m...

Day 2: 'Testing Times' by Richard Allan

The conclusion to our 12,000km journey was a successful one. Following earlier baggage related mishaps we arrived with the remainder of our kit, sweeping low from the ocean over our desert landing. After meeting with Victor, from the tour company,(who did actually exist - that's a tenner you owe me Simon) we drove the short distance to Chile's northernmost town, Arica. Arica itself has the air of a frontier town. We were deposited at our Hotel and after a brief freshening up break it was time for a briefing to bring the whole group up to speed on the research and how it was to be carried out. This being successfully achieved we were free to head into town to sample the local cuisine. This included, among other things, "chicken to the olive" and large sections of a cow's lower intestinal tract, preserved with original contents. The more intelligent of our colleagues then headed back to the Hotel for a well needed sleep. Sadly intelligence is not something that medical students have in abundance and the decision was taken by a smaller group of us to throw ourselves into the local culture, in particular the Latin night life. A few pisco sours brings us to the next morning. With only a mere suggestion of sluggishness on part of a few the team mobilised well and set about turning the hotel into a sea level lab. Although not directly involved in the days testing myself I observed a great deal of hardwork on behalf of many members of the team, allowing a great deal of top quality data to be collected. Tomorrow, work will continue apace, with those not running stations or subjected to tests going in search of some R & R in the city.

Day 1 The Journey So Far by Paul O'Connell

All 32 of the expedition members arrived on time at heathrow with just one flat tyre between us. So far, so good, and there's much excitement in the air. Most of us with the notable exception of the exped leader Naomi, are wearing our striking blue 'Expedition Altiplano' t-shirts with the Alpaca emblem (soon to be our lunch).

The long journey ahead was fairly uneventful until the baggage carousel at Santiago airport failed to produce approximately half the luggage and equipment. Oh and then there was the sniffer dog incident with Tereza and the contraband agricultural produce incident with Luke.

We've been assured that the missing baggage will be delivered to the hotel in Arica tomorrow (29th), if not then there will be some considerable hurdles to overcome, not least of which will be making it to 6500m in a pair of trainers.

Luke's apple however will not be joining us in Arica because it has been resolutely destroyed by 'chemical reaction' (although this could be code for human metabolism). Luke somehow avoided paying a $200 fine for the smuggling of the fruit. We're not sure how he avoided paying the fine. He was missing for about 20 minutes.

Meanwhile Tereza had successfully distracted the drug sniffer dog by making friends with it, but the fruit sniffer dog was not so easily duped and made a b-line straight for her hand luggage, closely followed by the Chilean Fruit and Veg Police. Tereza also narrowly avoided a fine and possibly a good 'fruiting' in the stocks.

The journey now continues from Santiago to Arica by air and we will see how much of our luggage follows.

Provisional Itinerary...

Check out our provisional itinerary using the tabs above.

Thank you!

A huge thank you to Lauren & Diane at Sevco Ltd for supplying our team tshirts - check out their details on our supporters page.

Only one sleep to go...

With all of the testing in the high altitude chamber at the University of Glamorgan completed, we are almost ready to depart. Check out our meet the team page (using the tabs above) to see an updated list of team members & roles.

Chamber photos...

Thank you to Lisa for sharing her photos for us all to see...(more are available on Facebook)

Check this out...

Luke & Cath gain top tips from Sir Ranulph Fiennes on their graduation day! 

Congratulations to you both on your graduation :)

http://news.glam.ac.uk/news/en/2012/jul/18/britains-most-famous-modern-day-explorer-sir-ranul/

Our expedition tshirts have arrived :)

A Chamber Experience...

Right up until the saturday night before, I had been looking forward to my chamber experience. Then, in the pub on the final team training weekend up in North Wales I heard all the tales of horror... sticky tape, sickness and stretched out hours. Comments like ‘you’ll look forward to that bit Jess...ha’ and ‘oh yes, that was horrendous’ don’t inspire much confidence!
        And so dawned Test Day. After 12 hours of fasting and 24 of no caffeine, alcohol, exercise or oranges I arrived bright and early at the Glamorgan campus. Those yet to know me well, will soon discover that I definitely don’t function at my full potential with a lack of food! The day was an opportunity to test expedition members in the environmental chamber at the university. I was going to undergo a whole barrage of tests, first in our normal, fine South Welsh atmosphere (21% oxygen), and then after spending 6 hours in the chamber set to 12% oxygen, in order to simulate the oxygen levels found at 4500m. The data being collected both in Wales and when we are in South America is forming part of a number of research projects looking into the human response to hypoxia.
        And so the tests began, and kept coming... and coming. First I was subjected to mental testing: put the pegs in the holes, dot-to-dot, 15 word memory lists and number recall. Then I underwent a 12 lead ECG for 5 minutes to establish my heart rate and pattern at rest. Then I became something of a sci-fi lookalike with wires everywhere: a 3 lead ECG, a blood pressure probe on my finger, oxygen sensors on my forehead looking at the oxygen levels going to and from my brain, a doppler (ultrasound) probe on my temple looking at the blood flow to my brain and a mouth piece wired up to measure my breathing pattern and gas levels. I was then subjected to 40 minutes of challenges: sitting still, standing up, doing squats, breathing high levels of carbon dioxide, hyperventilating and having both my legs tornequéd. All of these looked at how my brain and it’s oxygen levels were responding to each onslaught. Following this I then got to lie down for a while whilst, surprisingly, more tests were done. The response of the blood vessels in my arm were looked at using flow mediated dilatation: a blood pressure cuff was inflated for 5 minutes just below my elbow and then released whilst an ultrasound probe measured what happened to an artery above my elbow. They then used the doppler probes to look at the velocity of my circulation between my heart, radial, carotid and femoral arteries. A canula was then inserted and tube after tube of blood was taken, but by no means was that the worst bit. No, without a doubt that was the finger pricks! I’m not proud to admit it but the anticipation of what is about to happen coupled with the actual pricking of the end of my finger with a sharp implement made me yelp. But it had to happen so that they could gather info on blood glucose and lactate. The final test required skills in breathing out to look at nitric oxide levels.
        This all took three and a bit hours, and so as the oxygen levels in the chamber were being reduced down to 12% I was informed I was allowed to eat! This was very exciting as the previous day I’d bought loads of sugary and delicious danish pastry reduced from my local Co-op (other supermarkets are available). Filled with sugary goodness and anticipation I entered the chamber and the door was shut.
        Being in the chamber was a bit like being in a giant, noisy, silver lift. It was larger than I’d imagined, big enough to hold a bed, examination couch, exercise bike, and some testing equipment. I settled down to watch some downloaded nature documentaries having been tipped off by my fellow adventurers that the hours would drag. Almost immediately I felt the effects of the lower oxygen, I could feel my heart racing a little, considering I was sitting down. 10 minutes in and I was feeling exhausted, quite happy just sitting there doing nothing. After an hour in there my observations were taken: heart rate 80 bpm, oxygen levels 72%. And then, all of a sudden, I didn’t feel so good. With little warning I was sick, then I quickly felt entirely normal, had a chat with one of the Phd students in the lab who had come to sit with me for a bit, and then I settled down to a second episode. 30 minutes late...bleergh...sick again out of the blue! I felt a bit disheartened, imagining how terrible it would be on the expedition if I was going to be sick all the time. Apart from sickness I wasn’t suffering any other symptoms, no headache, no funny vision. I now had about 2 hours left before the next lot of tests would begin again. It was a long two hours, filled mostly with feeling nauseas, calming myself down, feeling nauseous again, worrying about how I hadn’t eaten anything since the night before, and worrying about how embarrassing it would be if I was sick mid-testing with the mouth piece in. 
        Then my time was up and testing began again in the chamber at the 12% oxygen to  measure my results in hypoxic (low oxygen) conditions. Mentally I didn’t feel too sluggish and I only really struggled when having to do the squats, which made me feel very faint and sick. After all the tests were complete and another puddle of my blood had been taken (more finger pricks), I had the final hurdle to get over: the ‘exercise test to exhaustion’. Exhaustion comes quickly at altitude, and after 3 minutes on a reclining exercise bike my legs could take no more. More blood was taken (and finger pricks) and the nitric oxide breathing test was repeated. Then came the second most unpleasant part of the day, the removal of all the extremely sticky sticking tape and ECG pads, with an audience. I was then free to go, and just under 8 hours after entering the chamber I breathed ‘normal’ air, which felt very thick, and feeling slightly groggy I returned home.
        So did the altitude chamber live up to all those horror stories? Well it was definitely an experience, and it certainly had its unpleasant moments (finger pricks), but it was also very interesting (as were the nature documentaries) and I must admit, it’s a pretty cool thing to have done.

By Jess Christley (Expedition Team Member)

Team Photo...

Team photo taken on our training weekend in N.Wales 22nd-24th June.

Logo...

Check out our Expedition Altiplano 2012 Logo...

Check out our article posted on Wales Online...

Researchers to play high-altitude rugby matches to test male vs female brain theory


http://www.walesonline.co.uk/news/health-news/2012/04/16/researchers-to-play-high-altitude-rugby-matches-to-test-male-vs-female-brain-theory-91466-30764806/

Please vote for us...

We have  applied to the Millet Expedition Project for funding and would really appreciate it if you could support us by voting for us on Facebook.

https://www.facebook.com/milletmountainbyexperience/app_217021891656706
 It's called 'Going high to understand acute mountain sickness' and we are on the second page.
The project with the most votes by 18th April wins the contest, therefore please spread the word.

You have to like the page, agree on the app tab and scroll through the pictures until you find us. Click on the image to read a brief summary of the project.


Thank You!!

Date for your diary...

Swansea Wilderness Medicine Society proudly presents... 

EXPEDITION ALTIPLANO 2012:

Oxygen & the Human Brain, an Adventure at High Altitude.

Talk by PROFESSOR DAMIAN BAILEY.

Friday 23rd March 6pm at ILS Building, Seminar Room 1 at Swansea University
Free for WMS members, £2 for non-members.
Nibbles will be provided.


Join the FB event & invite your friends:
https://www.facebook.com/events/271460789597828/

Follow us by liking our Facebook Page:

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Expedition-Altiplano-2012/315856655110897?bookmark_t=page

Team Altiplano on the summit of Tryfan

Expedition Altiplano 2012 is a medical research venture led by the Swansea University Wilderness Medicine Society (SWMS) in collaboration with world renowned high altitude physiologist Professor Damien Bailey of the University of Glamorgan. It follows a very successful SWMS expedition to Mount Elbrus, Russia in 2008, which will soon have its research published in Stroke. This latest expedition is led by Naomi Dodds, President of SWMS, and leader of multiple expeditions with Leading Edge Expeditions Ltd.

Aim: To carry out research at high altitude and to summit some of the Andes highest peaks.

Objectives:
• To conduct publishable research on the effect of hypoxia at high altitude
on the human body.
• To summit various acclimatisation peaks near Putre and Parinacota.
• To climb Sajama (6542m), Bolivia’s highest peak.

ExpeditionAltiplano2012@gmail.com