Every so often, an adventure doesn’t quite go as planned. In fact, I would argue that it is the unaccounted for components of travel and outdoor explorations that add to the overall excitement.

Santa Ana was such an adventure that didn’t turn out like I expected. To say that this particular excursion was a bust? Well… the jury’s still out on that one.

Santa Ana is a rather well-known destination for those intrepid travelers who visit the glorious country of El Salvador. It is an active volcano that last erupted in 2008. In my pre-trip research, I stumbled upon this lovely gem on multiple occasions as, time after time, folks talked about what an incredible experience it was.

The hike itself is quite rigorous, gaining I-don’t-know-how-many feet in elevation total considering the entire round trip. It was a pretty stroll through the forest during the rather flat portions, but the up hill sections reminded me I wasn’t exactly in peak hiking shape.

I made some friends along the way – two Australian gals – and I realized it was the first time I had spoken English in a few days.

Onward and upward, we plodded on, admiring the lush landscape and the rocky terrain.

We were almost to the top, when all of a sudden the wind began to pick up.

I repeat: the wind was going insane.

I have never experienced winds quite like it! The wind storms out in Death Valley were a gnarly experience, but at least I had the comfort of my little car to shelter me.

On Santa Ana, the gusts blew tiny pieces of gravel into my eyes and mouth, stinging my neck. I wrapped my jacket tighter and kept my head down, knowing that I only had a few more yards.

Finally: the top.

But, sadly, there was no real view! A weather system had moved in, hovering at this particular altitude. The gusts made it difficult to sit and enjoy my accomplishment of reaching the highest point in El Salvador.

I had my Australian friends snap a few pictures, and then everyone was eager to get down off the edge of the volcano.

After trekking back down about a mile, the weather cleared up, and the sun was shining once again. Glancing behind me, I could see the dark cloud hovering at the top of the volcano, an ominous reminder of the horrendous weather at the top.

Returning to the parking lot seemed to take forever. My legs were tired from the 5+ mile hike, and I was eager to grab a cold electrolyte beverage along with a pupusa (handheld meat pastry).

Later that day, after a lukewarm shower and a cerveza, I reflected upon the day’s adventure. The Santa Ana hike wasn’t exactly what I expected. After all, I was unable to actually see anything inside of the volcano. Sometimes things don’t quite go to plan, but there’s also a beauty in those unknowns.

I’m still picking gravel out of my hair. 🙂