Climbing Cerro Chirripó, Costa Rica's Highest Peak
Three nights. Four days. Nearly 30 miles climbing above 12,500 feet with a 35-pound backpack and three good friends. A trip of a lifetime.
March 15th, 20025 – Day 3, 3:30 AM – the alarm goes off. Honestly, it’s a relief. After seven hours freezing my ass off in a tiny sleeping bag at 12,000 feet, it’s go-time. Summit day.
The thermometer reads 35°F—awesome.
One of the few places in Costa Rica where the temps flirt with freezing. My hands sting from the wind as everyone gathers over the kettle heating up some much needed hot water.
By 4 AM, we’re off. We’ve got a 10-mile hike ahead, all above 12,000 feet. The backpack that started at 35 pounds is now a lean 32 pounds after two days of eating rations, but still—30+ pounds feels heavy at altitude.
We head out under shaky headlamps, frost crunching beneath our feet. It’s surreal—probably just a few of us in the entire country feeling this kind of cold. We dip into a small alpine forest, then rise back onto the ridge. First light starts to seep in. It’s barely 5 AM and my quads are already lit up. My hip flexors are talking to me. But the thought of warmth from the rising sun lifts our spirits and takes my mind off my tired legs..
Boom. The sun has cracked the horizon..
Toes thaw. Mittens come off. Yes—mittens. And the colors start popping. Sprawling views in every direction. Looking down at the layer of mystical clouds, a pillowy blanket over the earth.
The wind picks up and interrupts the deafening silence that’s been with us all morning. Costa Rica mornings are always filled with a magical symphony of birds and bugs, the rich tropical environment supporting so much life, but up here above 12,000 ft it's a different story.
It’s quiet. It’s so beautifully quiet.
We hit Peak #1 around 6 AM.
Time for a quick breakfast of some homemade protein energy balls and a handful of nuts. Then back on the ridge. Peak #2 comes a few hours later. We’ve been over 12,000 ft for over 12 hours now so while I’m getting used to the thin air, it’s still uncomfortable as hell breathing up here above the clouds.
But we keep going. One step at a time.
Eventually, we see the final peak. Morale is high. Weather’s perfect—no storms, which is rare at 12,000 feet. But the sun and our tired legs are now the real challenge.
11:00 AM. We make it. Cerro Chirripó summit. Hell yes.
But we’re not done—there’s still 5km of a rocky descent to base camp. It’s been 9 hours since we started the day. The sun is relentless, no shade in sight. And now we have to navigate downhill terrain full of loose gravel and big sharp boulders.
But we keep rolling. There is no stopping now.
2:00 PM. We arrive. Crestones base camp.
Holy. Shit.
6am - the following morning. We have another 10 miles down the main trail. Heavy legs, beat up body, but the end is near. About 3 hours later and we’re back to our car.
I did it. We did. We rinse off with cold mountain water.
My feet are bloody.
But my spirit is on fire. The group vibration is high, letting this beautiful sense of accomplishment settle in.
Chirripo mountain adventure #1 in the books. One I will never forget.
And as I reflect back, 6 things I wanted to share…
Step by Step: The Mountain as Metaphor
The mountain teaches patience, presence, and resilience.
It’s a beautiful metaphor for life. You look up—excited, but also full of doubt. How am I gonna make it up there? It feels impossible. Then you take a step. And another.
Soon you’re in it. You find a rhythm.
But then the mind pipes in...
Why the fuck am I doing this?
My knees hurt. I’m freezing. I’m starving. It’s hard to breathe.
Can we take another break?
But you keep moving. Step by step. And then you look back and realize—damn, I’ve come a long way.
Then it shifts. The mental chatter quiets. The body takes over.
The pain feels... welcome.
The breath finds a rhythm.
You drop into flow.
Everything sharpens. Trees. Rocks. Clouds. The silence is deafening in the best way. Time slows. There is only now.
Presence. Pure presence. A peak state with no substances. Just nature, effort, and awe. It strips away the BS and reminds you what matters.
The Mental Software Upgrade
Doing hard shit rewires your brain.
After four days on this trek, I feel different. Grounded. More confident. Like I installed a new mental OS. The small stuff that used to get under my skin? It doesn’t have the same impact on me.
When you test your limits, your perception shifts. What once felt hard now feels like nothing. Discomfort changes you in ways comfort never will.
Brotherhood in the Face of Adversity
One of the best parts of this trip wasn’t the peak—it was the people. The brotherhood. The bond forged by shared suffering.
You can’t fake it. Can’t buy it. It’s built in the trenches—when you’re exhausted, hurting, but still moving forward together.
I’ll never forget that moment on Day 3. The hardest day—11 hours on the move, from a 3:30 AM start, staying high on the ridge above 12,000 feet forever…
My Legs cooked. My feet are bleeding. And the relentless sun is pounding down on us.
But that moment at base camp—pack off, summit complete, high-fiving my friend Fran—that’s a memory etched into my soul.
Nothing you can buy matches that feeling. That connection of knowing what we just did. Sharing that grit and determination and witnessing each other. I see you brother. I am seen.
The Battle Between Body and Mind
Your mind wants to quit way before your body does. It starts whispering:
Slow down.
Maybe stop.
You’re not ready for this.
But your body is built for endurance. Your body is strong beyond belief. Especially if you have taken care of your body, it will be there for you. It will find a way. The key part is getting out of the mind and into the body and letting it do its thing.
That’s where confidence comes from. Pushing through and making it happen when shit gets hard. That’s how resilience is built.
One step at a time. One breath at a time. Repeating over and over and over.
Above the Clouds: A State of Awe
The summit felt like stepping onto another planet. The silence. The shifting sky. The sense of scale.
Moments like that put everything into perspective and I realized how insignificant we all are. Not in a depressing way—but in a liberating one. You realize how small you are—and how miraculous it is to just be alive.
Standing above the clouds, I felt it in my bones: life is a gift. Gratitude must be the attitude.
The Stillness of the Mountains
The mountains remove the noise. No texts. No screens. No distractions.
And at 12,000 feet, the stillness feels like a ceremony. A meditation. A natural high that comes not from escaping reality, but from connecting to it and immersing yourself in it. It’s this stillness that helps you access this beautiful state of presence with grace and ease.
It’s profound and damn, does it feel good.
To wrap it all up in 5 words:
Nature. Intensity. Awe. Brotherhood. Connection.
The mountains really are the metaphor for life. What challenge are you wanting to conquer? Is your body, mind, and spirit ready? I want to hear about it in the comments.
Nick