Ricardo Peña and NG writer James Vlahos secured a grant from National Geographic to do two expeditions. This page describes the first expedition. James and Ricardo traveled to Montevideo to meet with the survivors. Nando and Roberto provided more info on their expedition. In Argentina, Mario Perez (invited by Ricardo) joined James and Ricardo to cross the Andes. This was, and still is, the only expedition to have ever repeated Nando and Roberto's escape route from the Andes. There have been many attempts. These are the only photos published of the route.

 Ricardo's connection to the Andes Survivors

This is the Uruguayan Air Force Fairchild 572. The survivors crashed in the Fairchild 571. This one is now on the Airforce base in Montevideo. The inside is all gutted out.

On December 7th Eduardo organized a dinner for Ricardo and James Vlahos where they got to talk to the survivors about a lot more details. From left to right:  Top row:  Daniel Fernandez and his wife, Zerbino's  wife, Eduardo, Laura his wife, and their son Pedro. Bottom row: Laura
(Roberto's  wife), Roberto Canessa, Gustavo Zerbino, Ricardo, Fito Strauch and his wife.

Eduardo Strauch and Ricardo Peña inside the Fairchild 572.  Dec 06, 2005.

                


                                   The inside of the Fairchild 572 as it looks today.

Here is Eduardo's passport showing the stamp of the fateful day...Friday the 13th of October, 1972. This is the passport Ricardo found inside Eduardo's coat high on the mountain on February 12, 2005.

Ricardo and Roberto Canessa discuss the route while looking through Google Earth, while Moncho Sabella looks over their shoulders.

The airplane compass, boots, belt and clothing used by Roberto Canessa to escape the Andes.

Ricardo, Roberto Canessa and his wife, Laura Surraco. Laura was Roberto's girlfriend at the time of the accident. She knitted one of those sweaters for Roberto.

These sunglasses were made by Fito Strauch out of materials found in the plane: a visor from the pilot's cabin, plastic from the flight plan's folder, wire from the cabin, and a woman's bra provided the elastic band. Snow-blindness is a serious problem on a high altitude glacier.

          Gustavo Zerbino wearing the shirt he wore for 72 days on the mountain
             and holding the other pilot's hat which he wore.

                                                            Driving into the Andes in 4x4 trucks.

    


        
                                     ...and using a raft on the deeper parts of the river...

                            Horses were used until the snow got too deep to proceed.

At this point, we strapped on snow shoes, put our heavy packs on and pulled sleds up to the glacier, and the next day to the Valley of Tears where the survivors lived for 72 days. The valley and headwall are visible in the background.

Finally after the sun set we reached the glacier. Getting on itrequired us to haul all of our gear up this very steep slope.

Compare this photo (that James took of me on December 13, 2005, with the famous photo of Nando in the tail with the Adidas bag (the back cover of the Alive hard cover book). If you look carefully you will see that the upper right hand corner matches with this picture. This is the place where the tail was in 1972. 

In an  upcoming NG article (summer 2006) you will know more about further investigation  we did in February 2006 regarding the fate of the tail.

One of the "blankets" used by Fito. These were made out of the the seat covers.

The Andes as seen from the Argentinean side.

Crossing the Atuel river required crossing sections of it on foot...

...and finally horses.

On this rock outcrop Mario Perez, James Vlahos and I said goodbye to our argentinean friends (Marquez on right) who went back with their horses. We did not see any other person for 7 days until we met with Chilean guide Mauricio Guerra at Los Maitenes, Chile.

James Vlahos and Mario Perez (El Sosneado in the background) approach the "Glaciar de las lagrimas".

James took this picture of me as we approach the area where the tail was in 1972. This is on our way to the place on the glacier where the fuselage of the Fairchild 571 came to rest and where the survivors lived.

....and finally...here it is at last...the actual spot on the glacier where the  fuselage came to stop after the crash and where the survivors lived for 72 days.  Compare this photo to the famous photo of the survivors "sewing the sleeping bag". You will see the background is exactly the same. (you can see the picture on the  book or on the survivors page: http://www.viven.com.uy/571/FotosIneditas.asp  )

The remains of the fuselage are now buried in the glacier and not visible. To be here on the same day (December 14) as the survivors had been (but  33 years later) looking at this valley completely covered in snow like they did and feeling the cold temperatures that are common at this time of the year really brought home the isolation they must have felt. It was quite challenging to get to this place with these conditions. They were right...a land rescue  would have been very difficult.

This is the view north from where the plane was.

This picture also matches the one in the book that shows the track made by the  fuselage. What neither photo reveals is how steep this slope really is (30-40º). You have to remember this picture is taken looking up! The plane came down  between those rocks. The tail went left and the fuselage hit the flat spot where  I am standing to take the picture.

...and this is the view West and the escape route! You are looking at almost 3000 vertical feet. The view from this close undermines the difficulty of climbing that wall. The survivors thought it would take them one day to get to the top. In fact it took them 3 days! We were forced to do it in one day (the day after this picture was taken) due to rock fall, ice fall, and avalanche danger, and it was brutal! Also, as you can see, the slope was so loaded with snow that there would have been nowhere to camp safely (digging a snow plataform into an avalanche prone slope is not a good idea).

                                Climbing towards the headwall with a 60-65lb pack.

The previous picture is looking south (where the plane came from). This is the view East from where they were. The memorial (with the cross) is visible on the lower right side.

Here is our camp on the valley. We were camped about 300 yds from the spot where the plane was to avoid avalanche danger.

Climbing the headwall. In order to avoid the crevasse in front of me I had to go right and expose myself and the team by going under that hanging glacier. The debris of yesterday's avalanche is visible on the picture. 
Unfortunately that hanging glacier was losing car size chunks of ice almost  everyday and at all times of the day and night, so it was impossible to 
predict when the next one would come. This was pretty much a game of russian roulette.

The snow was very soft. Here you can see me post-holing in thigh deep snow.

                                                Hours later...higher up on the headwall.

This picture show the dangers encountered in documenting this. Shown here is James photographing Mario. Avalanche debris is visible, crevasses partially visible, and photographing all of this on an avalanche prone slope!

This is probably the view that Roberto Canessa was looking at in 1972 when he saw the road. As you can see on this picture, the road is visible at the foot of El Sosneado (the big mountain in the background), though barely. Roberto was right, though it's understandable why Nando didn't want to go back.

The view north was just as discouraging as you can see from this picture of James that I took.

Since this was most likely another previously unclimbed 15,000ft summit in the Andes, I snapped this picture of myself on the summit with El Brujo (a 16,000ft glaciated mountain with notable technical ascents) in the background.

This is the gulley we followed. One of my concerns was that after 34 years of erosion (which is extreme in this part of the Andes) we would be stopped by a cliff. With the quality of rock being so rotten it could be imposible to set up a rappel and we would have to climb back up and try different routes until one worked.

...and at last I saw, with great relief, an opening without any technical
  obstacles.

James Vlahos was an incredible person to have on this trip. Not only is he a great photographer and writer, but he is also a great person to climb with. Always easy going, considerate, strong and positive. It was very rewarding to become close friends with him during this incredible expedition.

                            Later that evening we found water for the first time.

This is El Brujo. Nando and Roberto saw the sun illuminate this peak until 9 pm. This gave them great hope that the next valley was open to the west, since apparently no mountains were in the way to block the sun. This picture was taken a few minutes before 9 pm on December 16, 2005.

This is probably the first spot where they saw water. After almost 70 days 
without any running water this was an incredible experience for Nando and Roberto.

                                    It was tricky to stay on the left side of the river.

Punching through the snow would have turned deadly on places like these. These rivers are very cold and very strong!

This is probably the place where they camped on the night of December 18.

Our route became very rocky. Loaded with such heavy packs, walking became very tricky over this rough terrain.

Later the inclination angle eased but the going was still very tricky. Most 
rocks were moving under our feet.

                                                                        The first human signs.

December 18,2005 The challenge of this day and the next one are the hardest to convey. We no longer had dangers of avalanches, crevasses or technical terrain; it was simply a physical challenge to cover miles and miles with heavy packs, heat, and direct sun over terrain that's tricky to walk on.

                                                             ...and bugs! Mario's new pet!

                                                Something we didn't expect...a swamp!

Before we camped we got a view of the next valley that would leads us into Los Maitenes (still a long way to go!)  12/19

                                            There were still many tricky river crossings.

                                    Condors kept a close look at us while climbing.

From L to R: Ricardo Peña , Mario Perez and James Vlahos in Los Maitenes on December 19, 2005, after completing the first succesful re-tracing of Nando Parrado and Roberto Canessa's historic escape from the Andes. They reached Los Maitenes on December 21st, 1972.

This is the hut where Roberto and Nando were taken by the chilean peasants. This little outpost was where they ate their first real meal in 70 days and where for the first time they told other human beings about their incredible ordeal!

For us the work-out wasn't over, since we had to walk another full day to 
reach the nearest road where a van met us.

    But at least now we followed a path, and it was hiking on a good trail.

The view South reveals this summit (15,400'), which is the peak I climbed on February 2005 (see Discovery) to get a view of what Nando and Roberto had seen to the west. My route of ascent in February was via the ridge on the left side. This picture was taken from the top of a 15,000 ft summit which I climbed the same morning. Visible in the picture is our camp on the saddle (and James or Mario standing next to the tent). To the right is Chile, to the left Argentina.

Descending into Chile

This gulley kept us busy for hours...

Mario and Ricardo sliding down what is most likely the same place Nando slid down uncontrollably. Luckily for us the snow was very soft and easy to control.

This was the valley that opened up after the gullies. To give you a sense of the size of this landscape, look at Mario, visible as a small dot on the snow. The survivors camped somewhere near the spot where I took this picture, but we continued on.

After a long day (Dec 16, 2005), we finally pitched camp not too far from where the survivors camped on December 17, 1972.

The next morning we make our way to the base of El Brujo.

A great picture James took of me and El Brujo.

Roberto Canessa described the moment when he saw the snow end as the difference between death and life. He had seen all his friends die in the snow and he thought to himself: I am out of the snow now, I have to live.

The valley that opened up was immense!

The first signs of vegetation!

At one point a rock dislodged under my foot and I went down. My pack crushed me against rocks that hit my sternum and cut my forearm. A hematoma formed instantly on my arm which made it look like a compound fracture; I was very relieved to see that it was just a cut! A compund fracture, days away from any help, can be a very serious matter, if not fatal.

The slope where I fell after having crossed it.

Guanaco (a relative to the Llamas) bones.

There were absolutely no trail or paths to follow, a lot of rocks and as we got lower a new evil...brush!

Rocks, rocks and never-ending rocks!

Mario and I at the end of another tough day, 12/18.

The next morning we headed to Los Maitenes. It seemed ridiculous at that point to be carrying snow shoes, -20 degree sleeping bags and down jackets in this heat! The elevation was now under 5000'. This proved to be another brutal day.

The heavy vegetation made it impossible for us to continue. The only option I found was to follow herd paths (that we were now encountering along with a few cows grazing but no humans) that climbed up more than 1500 vertical feet above the river and went above this ridge line that would eventually drop us into Los Maitenes. It was very discouraging to have to climb yet another mountain when we  were so close to our destination.

At last....Los Maitenes (Self Portrait). Roberto and Nando saw a Chilean peasant tending his cattle in this area. They were very lucky this peasant (Sergio Catalan) was up there early in the season, otherwise they would have found what we found...a deserted place!

We arranged to have Mauricio Guerra, a Chilean guide and now good friend of mine, meet us at Los Maitenes. He brought salami, cheese, wine and pasta which we quickly devoured around a campfire. The stars as always were incredible!

...and their night in this outpost was spent in beds like these which were
  incredible luxury for the survivors.

The heat was very dehydrating.

At last on December 20, 2005 our crossing of the Andes on foot ended when we reached this road and this vehicle. We had a very different 
experience of San Fernando, Chile, than the survivors. While the survivors were welcomed like heroes (the rest of the survivors back on the glacier were rescued by helicopters), we were greeted like illegal criminals. As we reported to the local authorities to have our passports stamped with the proper entry stamp we were practically detained. That entry stamp was essential to leave the country the next day, otherwise we would be detained at the airport and arrested. 

Our expedition showed the survivors climbed from 12,020 ft up to a pass 
14,774' high. From there they descended to 4,676' walking a total of 33.5 
miles...very tough miles! (nothing to do with trail running or hiking!). 

We carried a lot more weight obviously, our trek was more than 20 miles 
longer, and we obviously had to climb up to the 12,020' location from 7200' in Argentina. In spite of that we had incredible advantages over them. We were experienced mountaineers, we were trained and healthy, we had plenty of food and great gear (perhaps a bit too much, but we didn't know what to expect since noone had repeated it before).

Overall we felt that what Nando and Roberto accomplished in '72 was incredible!...a miracle? Not in my personal opinion, but one of the finest moments in human history when two young men, against all odds, and showing incredible bravery, defied the cruel environment and challenges of the mountains and accomplished an unbelievable feat and with that, saved their own lives as well as the lives of their 14 mates stuck in the
plane.

This escape and the troubles and challenges faced and overcome by the 16 Andes Survivors always has, and always will continue to inspire me; and will always speak volumes of that incredible thing called...the human spirit.

        Join our 2014 Expedition to the site with Eduardo  Strauch