A Morning in the Clouds: Summiting Volcán San Pedro

One may assume that as an Oregon native, hiking and outdoor adventures are part of my regular weekend routine. Despite my home base offering limitless beautiful landscapes, I will confess that I had not gone on a hike in years. So when my Guatemala Health Initiative peers suggested we spend our Saturday trekking through dense forest and climbing more than 1120 meters in elevation, I was terrified. Yet our advisor, Dr. Saad Siddiqui, assured me that the breathtaking views of Lake Atitlán would be worth the trip. So, at 6:00 a.m. on Saturday morning, our group and local guides convened to take on the volcano. Before we began, our guide, driver, and companion, Nicolas, warned us that the cloudy weather might block the views at the mountain’s peak. Even so, our minds had already been made up. We were determined to hike San Pedro that day.

For the first twenty minutes, it seemed as though all I could think about was how much time had passed. As we encountered other hikers making their descent, I felt envious knowing they had already made it through the hardest part. After hiking up 273 meters, approximately a fourth of the climb, we arrived at our first pit stop. At the viewpoint, a simple two-story wooden structure offered us a place to rest and a glimpse of the perspective from the summit. With a renewed sense of motivation, we resumed our ascent.

As we progressed, my mind no longer dwelled on how long we had been hiking. My body gave me no choice but to focus on my breathing, putting one foot in front of the other, and the landscape around me. Each step required my attention, both to keep myself moving and to avoid disturbing the volcano’s natural inhabitants. Caterpillars, snails, butterflies, birds, and an endless biome of wildlife crossed paths with us along the uneven trail. Letting my thoughts wander to the world around me, I found mental peace in spite of my physical fatigue. Then without realizing it, I noticed myself leading the pack and keeping a steady pace.

Some time later, we made it to our next rest point at 2300 meters: a small campsite with a firepit, bench, and most thrilling of all, a tire swing. Initially, I refused to partake in the fun, questioning the swing’s stability and fearing the steep drop-off below. However, the smiles of my peers were contagious and eventually convinced me to give it a shot. Taking a leap of faith, I lifted my feet from beneath me and swung out over the hillside, feeling a rush of wind around me and adrenaline running through my body.

With half of the journey complete, I tightened my shoelaces and braced myself for the final stretch. Running on energy reserves, I could hear my breathing grow heavier, and my legs began requiring more frequent breaks than before. As we gained elevation, fallen trees became increasingly appealing as places to rest my legs and catch my breath. The dense forest transitioned to a rockier terrain, with slippery mud underfoot and a haze of fog drifting through the trees.

At our final reprieve near 2870 meters, the summit had never been closer, but my body refused to carry on without refueling. Offering me a protein bar, water, and reassurance, Dr. Siddiqui gave me all that I needed to get back up and conquer the volcano. Then, in a quick fifteen minutes, we finally reached our destination: the rocky summit of San Pedro.

Although Nicolas warned us about the clouds, I had still held out hope for the views that Dr. Siddiqui had promised. My hopes were met with nothing but an overcast sky. Shockingly, I did not feel the slightest bit disappointed. I had anticipated the most rewarding aspect of my hike to be the scene from San Pedro’s summit. What I discovered surpassed any view: a feeling of accomplishment and fulfillment in knowing that I overcame such a challenging feat.

The satisfaction of reaching the summit by my own accord gave me reassurance that extended far beyond the hike itself. Recognizing that my own self-discipline had carried me up the mountain strengthened my confidence in tackling my independent research project this summer. Just as the climb demanded patience, focus, and persistence, my work in Santiago Atitlán requires the same willingness to keep moving forward, even when the path feels uncertain. Standing at the summit, surrounded by the clouds instead of the view I expected, I realized that the reward was not always in what I could see. Sometimes, it was in discovering what I was capable of doing.