On the Subject of Dust
20th July – Dispatch from Nevado Ampato, Andes
Our camp is at 5045 m on the dusty slopes of Ampato, an extinct, ice-clad volcano in the Western Cordillera. This is the very mountain from which Juanita, the famous Incan ‘ice maiden’, was plucked back in 1995. The tents are clustered in the lee of a large glacial erratic and, now the clouds have cleared, the view is second to none, taking in the dry plains far below and myriad volcanic peaks in every direction. Of these, only distant Ubinas shows any activity, letting slip the occasional cloud of ash. To complete the picture, behind us are the hulking masses of 6380 m-high Ampato and it’s smaller yet more violent brother, Sabancaya.
Yes, it is a fine place to call home as we begin mapping and sampling moraines of late-glacial and Holocene age in this part of the world. For added interest, the landscape here is dominated by sinuous lava flows that extend many kilometres from Sabancaya’s summit to the puna below. These black tongues of rock are both grotesque and strangely beautiful, especially when dusted with snow.
Speaking of dust, or rather sand, recently it has become a bit of a plague. Given the propensity for volcanic activity in this part of the Andes, our peaks camp is located on a surface of black sand, dust, and gravel, much of which becomes airborne during the fierce wind storms we’ve been experiencing. Just yesterday, as we were working on the youngest and highest moraines on Ampato, we happened to be suffering through a particularly bumpy spell of weather.The wind was funnelling down from the peak and pushing around waves of drifting snow. It was truly invigorating! From our high perch, though, we watched as plumes of dust were lifted by the wind from the plateau below, forming a brown blanket that came to obscure all but the highest peaks before spreading south to torment the city of Arequipa. By the time we returned to our camp that afternoon, our world was one of particulate matter. Sand in our food, sand in our tents, sleeping bags, and clothes. Worst of all, there was sand in my tea. But then, they always did say it takes a lot of grit to be a glacial geologist.