Hiking up to Acatenango base camp was one of the hardest things I’ve done in a while. The altitude hits, the climb just keeps going, and the cold creeps in once the sun drops. There were definitely moments I questioned why I signed up for it at all.

Then night came, and across from us Fuego started erupting.

At first it was just a glow, then a deep rumble, and suddenly lava was shooting into the sky and spilling down the sides of the volcano. It didn’t feel real standing there watching it happen over and over again. You could hear it, feel it, see it lighting up the entire mountain.

Sunrise somehow made it even crazier. Seeing it all in daylight, the scale of it, the constant movement, it really hits you how powerful and alive this earth is.

What stuck with me just as much was everyone up there. People from all over the world made that same climb, all dealing with the same struggle to get there. Different languages, different backgrounds, but in that moment none of it mattered. Countries, presidents, wars, all of it felt so far away. We were all just standing there together, completely in awe of what we were watching.

It’s wild how something that pushes you that hard can also remind you how small you are in the best way.