Hiking in the Nevado de Toluca

I’m kind of ashamed to admit it, but I’m not a very outdoorsy person. I really want to be. I want to be that woman who camps, and hikes, and owns like, three polar fleece shells, and can find her way around the forest with a compass. The sad reality is that I’m scared of bugs and snakes. And sometimes eating trail mix and beef jerky in front of the TV sounds much better than walking outside for five hours. (I’m wincing as I’m writing this. Oma and Bpa, if you’re reading this, I promise I really do love the land.)

However, on Saturday, our friends Julie and John invited us to go hiking on Sunday at the Nevado de Toluca. It’s a volcano and accompanying crater set up at about 15,000 feet, and visitors can climb into the basin and walk around. I’d seen pictures of the place and it had looked amazing: empty and pristine, with ribbons of snow covering the ground. Two lakes lay inside the basin, too, which just seemed eerie. Lakes on top of a volcano?

So, early Sunday morning, our tote bag packed with extra sweatshirts and our very outdoorsy Sigg bottles, we set out for the Nevado, located about 50 miles west of Mexico City. The weather was a bit overcast. We drove for awhile, and as soon as we got up into the mountains, the car’s temperature reader started dropping. 55 degrees. Then 50. Then 45.

When we finally made it to the parking area at the base of the volcano, we opened the car doors to a stiff, icy wind thick with mist. We scrambled to the trunk to put on more layers. Then we took a picture of our zipped-up selves.

Interestingly, there were a lot of Mexican families there. Some wore light jackets, and had wrapped themselves in blankets. A few people even carried their dogs. I love how Mexicans are always getting out and doing things, weather (or money) be damned.

Off we went on our trek to the rim. Since it’s so high up, there wasn’t much oxygen, and I had to take short steps. I started to feel a little light-headed.

“Does anyone else feel drunk?” I called to my four hiking companions, who were walking way ahead of me. No one said anything.

The view was just breathtaking, though. Clouds hovering over mountains. Floppy tufts of Cousin-It grass lay scattered along the trail. And these weird thistle-like things…

Several minutes of heaving breaths later, we’d finally made it to the rim. Unfortunately, the clouds were so thick, we couldn’t see anything.

But two stray dogs suddenly appeared out of nowhere, begging for some of our string cheese.

We decided to hike down into the basin anyway, on the off chance that maybe some of the clouds would clear. We hiked for about 15 minutes, the only sounds being the soil crunching under our feet, and our own breathing.

We came across a small pond. With the mist curling around the water, and air tightening in our throats, and the strange foilage poking out of the soil, I suddenly felt like I was on the moon. Or at least the next episode of Lord of the Rings. We all just sat around in silence, and stared.

The clouds hadn’t lifted much, so we walked all the way back to the car, dreaming — well, me anyway — of what we would eat for lunch. When we were almost to the car, the sun finally came out, uncovering a panoramic view of the city.

I’m sure we’d go back. The question is how to predict sunny weather, so we can actually see something besides the Cousin-It grass.