Cerro El Monito, Cerro El Mono y Cerro El Chino

I first noticed Cerro El Monito from the summit of Chaparrastique, which I climbed two years ago. I suspect this coastal range is an accretionary prism that has uplifted with the Cocos Plate subducting under the Central American land mass. After some thorough research I confirmed that Cerro El Monito is a P2k and I added that peak, along with several others to the Peakbagger database. I found a couple tracks online and some very faint heat signatures so I planned a route that would lead me from the pueblo of Jucuarán to Agua Fría, a short drive down the road from my house. The route would allow me to climb three peaks; Cerro El Monito (Little Monkey Mountain), Cerro El Mono (Monkey Mountain) & Cerro El Chino (Chinese Person Mountain). My dad told me that our neighbor Carlos likes hiking through the jungle, so I invited him to come along. Carlos is a 55 year old navy veteran who has lived both in the United States and El Salvador, so it sounded like a good idea to have a quasi local with me. Carlos also had an extra machete and said he could arrange for a ride to pick us up in Agua Fría.

My mom had to pay her taxes in Jucuarán so she dropped us off in the town at 7am. We started hiking along dirt roads, aiming for a northeastern route up the peak. It was clear from the very beginning that Carlos would be much slower than me, however our route was short and we had plenty of time. We left the road and followed a really good trail, climbing about one thousand feet to nearly the summit. We made the forested summit of the P2k with very little trouble, and enjoyed the views of the coast from an exposed rock a feet below the high point. We could see La Ventana and the peaks of Nicaragua. Cerro El Chino looked very interesting too.

We then followed a slightly overgrown but solid trail all the way down to the saddle of Cerro El Monito y Cerro El Mono. Carlos rested here while I ran up Cerro El Mono. The trail was good all the way to the top. I found a very large snake skin in the grass and a lonely horse tied to a post on the way. I jogged back down the trail to Carlos and we continued on the route towards the town of El Mono. I jokingly told him that there would be a McDonalds there and Carlos countered by saying monkey brains was more likely. We passed a lone man with a horse, and he told us the route we planned to take was very difficult. But everything had gone smoothly up to that point and I had a so far reliable GPS track so how hard could it be? We simply would climb over Cerro El Chino and run down the trail where we would be picked up. So we continued on, finding foundations of old buildings but no structures in the town of El Mono. Then we started a long climb back up the ridge towards Cerro El Chino. Carlos was starting to slow down, but this was the last bit of gain that I expected we had to contend with. At the ridge I went to scout the highest contour lines next to where Cerro El Chino is marked on the map. It appeared like it was lower, and I confirmed that the point to the southeast was much higher (about 70 feet per my gps). Also, the higher point matches the name of Cerro El Chino. They call the mountain that because it’s bald, and Asian people tend to be less hairy than other races. Up to this point everything had been generally straight forward, but things would change for the worse.

The route slowly became less and less clear. The trail abruptly ended and we were soon bushwhacking through the hot jungle. Our machetes came in handy but progress was slow. We fought to regain the ridgeline, only to become cliffed out. The final route up Cerro El Chino had a very faint trail and was exposed to the sun. There was one section of very steep loose dirt, and once I reach the top there was no wind or shade. It would have been an awesome peak had it been 30 degrees cooler. I fried like a Plátano while I waited for Carlos, who was clearly struggling. All I could do was drink the last few sips of my water and watch the vultures fly overhead. The shape of Cerro El Chino is like a fist, with four bumps leading across the summit area about a quarter of a mile in length. It’s also very steep with thick jungle on each side, so one cannot simply walk around these rises. The only way through is to stay atop the ridgeline until the final knuckle. These ups and downs were very difficult for Carlos, and we crept at a snails pace along the ridge. I was out of water by this point, but all we had to do now was drop 2,000 feet. At the final knuckle I felt relieved, since there appeared to be a trail heading down and the route was protected with shade. This trail petered out rather quickly though, and we soon found ourselves bushwhacking at a very slow pace down the steep ridge. We stayed on our gps track religiously, but it was clear that whoever left this track (Mario Ventura) had bushwhacked as well. If I had been by myself I could have barreled through it all rather quickly, but I had to wait for my partner every few minutes. We eventually left the ridge and dropped down into a steep arroyo below. The arroyo was bone dry and while we were back into an area of heat signatures, there was no trail. I was really thirsty at this point and had started to worry for my partner. He was in a good mental state, but we had one uphill climb out of the arroyo before reaching the road. Carlos ditched his extra boots and then his pack. I didn’t have a headlamp, and I was becoming so dehydrated that I needed to get out. Carlos suggested that I run out to the road, find his friends and have them bring him water. I agreed to the plan, leaving him only after we were within a mile from the road on the trail.

With the remaining day light, I hiked at a brisk pace through the overgrown trail. I got snagged by vines at several places and cursed at the vegetation. I freed myself from the grasp of the jungle several times. It didn’t want me to leave. The trail got better as it followed a barbed wire fence, but as it got darker I became less sure of my footing. I stumbled out of the jungle at the unmarked trailhead as darkness set in. There was no sign of Carlos’ friend, who was also named Carlos.

This section of road is a 4WD road in the middle of the jungle, so I had not reached salvation to say the least. I walked for a while aimlessly looking for the other Carlos until a pickup truck came rumbling up the road.
“¿Eres Carlos?”
“No.”
“¿Tienes agua?”
“No.”
They were clearly afraid of this large man standing in the dark with a machete. They assured me that Carlos was probably down the road a bit, so I walked in the direction they pointed me towards. There I found an old man who’s motorcycle had broken down.
“¿Eres Carlos?”
“No.”
“Que estas vendiendo.”
“Soda.”
“¿Cuanto vale?”
“Dos para los pequeños, tres para los grandotes.”

It was my first bit of salvation. I bought two 1.5L bottles of grape soda and laid on the dirt road and drank. I figured I would drink a bit, stash one of the bottles at the trailhead for Carlos and hike down the road by myself toward Agua Fría. In my delirium I kind of gave up looking for the other Carlos until a truck drove up to me.
He said to me, “¿Carlos?”
It was the other Carlos! I hopped in the car and directed them to the trailhead, which was nothing but a hole in the brush. Another car passed by.
“¿Sean?”
“Hi mom”
“¡Ay dios mío, mi bebé!”
My mom came out looking for me and she found me. She knew the general area where I would be and coincidentally met up with the Carlos search party. Once at the trailhead, the truck unloaded with a brute team of 3 young men and an older gentleman. I gave them my phone, explained my gps track to them and told them where Carlos was. They took off like a flash armed with nothing but machetes and phone lights.

I sat with my mom, yet another Carlos, Flor and her 3 were old daughter. We listened to them as they yelled through the jungle and their lights and gritos slowly faded. Then hell began for me, as a series of painful cramps started ravaging my legs. I drank as much as I could and it took several hours for me to get it together. One of the calambres was so bad I almost threw up and passed out. Thankfully I had unlimited grape soda and now I had water. I worked on recovering to a point where I could go back into the thicket, in the scenario where they couldn’t find Carlos. I sat with my mom in the dark jungle with no cell phone. We watched some spectacular lights in the sky which we assume was something related on the military. My mom was really worried for Carlos, but I knew everything was going to plan. It was quiet, and I explained that they probably found him already, and he was probably cramping as well. He would need to drink water first and recover before hiking out. That’s exactly what happened, and at a late hour Carlos came walking out of the jungle under his own power shirtless with a big smile on his face.

Carlos said that rather than stay on the trail, he climbed up to a high point to try and get service. He left everything but his pants and passport and climbed shirtless through the jungle in the pitch dark startling a large animal, choosing not to use his light to save battery. From the top of the knoll, he shouted like a mad man until his brute team found him - Like a real life Tarzan.

I think we showed a lot of resilience to get out of that situation in one piece, and next time I’ll be sure to bring more water.