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Published: February 20th 2009
Sierra Negra Volcano boasts having the second largest, widest, volcano in the world. The crater is perched atop Isabela Island in the Galapagos archipelago. The track leading to the cater is a few miles long, and instead of walking it, through the clouds and mud, we rode horse back. I am not in the least afraid of horses or the thought of galloping along atop the back of an animal, but it has been at least ten years since I last was on a horse. While the posture and commands came back naturally, the act itself made me doubt my physical endurance and ruggedness. First of all my horse had stronger will power than I do and did not care to listen to my physical commands or verbal instructions. When I would pull on the rains to slow it down (I'm not sure of the sex of the animal), it would pause for a minuted before it charged ahead with enormous vigor, despite looking 100 years old. The second problem for me about riding this beast was that my horse was persistent at being at the front of the pack (which I am sure the guides knew, when they handed me
the rains with, in retrospect, I deem was a half delighted, half malicious smile). This competitiveness resulting in always having to be in the lead meant that any horse who galloped ahead would soon be pursued and overtaken by my horse with me reluctantly at the helm. While the other horses trotted or cantered along, mine treacherously bolted ahead, taring through the bushes in order to get ahead. Not only were there numerous times when I thought I might be dislodged by a passing branch or shrub, but my back ached at every muddy hillock we tour over. I felt entirely unadventurous as I attempted to slow my horse down by yanking on the rains. I wasn't so much disappointed that I was tired of playing Indiana Jones, but because I felt old, tensing all the muscles I could muster to protect my back from being jarred from one uncomfortable jolting motion to the other.
Finally we arrived at the crater, which was shrouded in a thick hot fog. The rim was only partially visible beneath the clouds. The crater and surrounding land stands about 50 feet above the wide flat interior, which is covered in crumbly black lava.
View of Isabela
Even on the biggest of the islands, the ocean is never very far away The last eruption was a few years ago and for a few days after, it was possible to watch the flowing magma before the area became to hot.
We walked to another smaller crater which was stunning in its position and form. It displayed an array of magnificent colors: red and orange, green, blue-black, saffron, vermilion, charcoal and white. These palate rich tones formed stripes down into the center of the caldera, which you couldn't see the bottom of, twisting down somewhere beneath the layers and layers of growing lava. The grater rested atop miles of volcanic rock and perched on it we had a grand view of Isablea Island, all the way to the Pacific Ocean and beyond. We absorbed our planet like surrounding as we ate lunch and tossed little bits of rock down the deep crater trying to hear when they hit bottom.
The trip back was only eventful in that my horse and back continued to be a source of relentless discomfort and one man was flung from his horse before my eyes. He was the biggest man among us, around 220 lbs and fairly tall, and for some reason riding the smallest horse,
actually a mule. His feet dangled as he galloped along, which had a frighteningly comical effect, especially when he was first thrust entirely parallel to the ground and then when his mule did not pause and he toppled into the jungle thicket. I of course screamed but no one else seemed to be alarmed, perhaps because this happens frequently. The guide simply caught up to his beast, readjusted its saddle and helped the poor man back on. Needless to say I attempted to make my horse walk the rest of the way and also needless to say, I failed.
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