What better place to ring in the New Year than from the top of the world, or, at least, the top of Central America. After starting our journey in Guatemala in Huehuetenango to get our footing and celebrate Christmas and then Xela to hike our first volcano and get some errands done, we drove back towards the border to hike Volcán Tajumulco. Clocking in at 13.85K ft, the volcano is the highest point in Central America (re: south of Mexico) and, from its peak, hikers can see into Mexico as well as much of the southern region of Guatemala, from its numerous mountain ranges to the coastal plain descending into the Pacific. With New Year’s only a couple of days away, we made it our goal to summit that morning to start 2026 on a high note ;)
Only, we nearly didn’t make it on time. The last couple of days of 2025 were spent running around Xela completing errands, including an emergency stop to get an oil change (our oil levels had dropped precipitously low), an unfun afternoon waiting for a locksmith after leaving the keys on the dash, and several trips back and forth across town to find hiking poles (to no success), boot repair (to great success), and more. Finally at about 3 in the afternoon on New Year’s Eve, we left the last mall in Xela to start the 50-mile drive to the volcano. More than three hours later we arrived thanks to winding mountain driving and questionable detours from Google Maps; after dark and still needing to set up camp and cook dinner, the prospect of finding ourselves on the top of the mountain by the time we saw the sun again seemed daunting. Around nine we set our alarm for midnight and hoped we wouldn’t sleep through it.
Not that that would have been possible. A few seconds before the alarm began, we were treated to the beginning volley of New Year’s fireworks. And Guatemalans love their fireworks. Even though we weren’t near any large towns, the adjacent mountainside was soon lit up with celebrations, and we opened our curtains to revel in the color, appreciative of the extended noise to force us to get up and begin our preparations. We brewed some coffee, ate our breakfast, and went over our equipment one more time. Finally, as extra motivation to get to the top, we made some hot chocolate and stored it in our thermos (thanks Grandma Margaret!) to enjoy at sunrise.
Our hike began inconspicuously enough, as we leapfrogged another group of hikers while getting settled in. (Both Vrinda and I actually had to remove a layer of clothing, as the exertion from hiking offset the chill from 10K feet at midnight; we would still be glad we packed these.) The first two miles were straightforward up the bumpy and muddy road with a relatively steady 10-15% incline. We were glad we chose not to drive up this the previous night as we passed more than one vehicle stuck at various points and were still <a href=“/mexico/waters_of_chiapas/“>more than a little scarred by Lagos de Montebello</a>. Only about 3am and halfway done already (by distance), we were feeling excellent about our progress. We had begun to see more people - including a stuck car with about 10 folks helping to push - and were curious how many might be joining us at the top.
The next mile of trail wound through some picturesque pine forests as we began to realize that we were going to be just a small part of the party. Looking up the mountain, a steady stream of headlamps showed us what lay ahead, while an equivalent constellation indicated we were being followed by at least 50 hikers on our trail. Left and right, more trails were merging into the main thoroughfare with even more pinpricks of light illuminating each ascending individual. We were passed by faster groups and we marched around those who had slowed down to acclimate to the altitude. Around 13K feet we emerged at a high-elevation campground, where several fires burned to warm the folks who had spent the night there. The final stretch to the summit was easily the most difficult, with the dirt trail giving way to boulder hopping, a feat made more difficult by needing to find a path accessible for Arya (she will deny this and tell you that she can do anything, but claws are no use on smooth rocks no matter how eager the jump begins) and Vrinda (she will be more forthright that short legs make this part no fun when trying to keep up with a giant and a maniac full of energy, you decide who is who). Slow going, as we took lots of breaks to make sure we (editor’s note: really V - these Hickmans seem to know nothing of altitude sickness) didn’t get hit too hard by the altitude, and we were grateful for our early start so that we didn’t feel rushed. We finally made it to the summit just before 5:30, right as the colors of the sky were beginning to change.
We arrived at the biggest New Year’s party we had ever been to! Once everyone made it, we estimated that 400-500 folks were sharing the space with us; thankfully the summit was very broad and while some areas were busy, it was possible to find a spot for us to settle. Having stopped moving and at high elevation with no sunlight yet, we were now very grateful for the extra layers; at one point, Arya’s water dish even developed a thin but noticeable layer of ice. Other groups built fires to warm themselves by, and some folks looked downright miserable to be up there. Our hot chocolate turned out to be the perfect thing to improve both the mood and the temperature, and we were soon rewarded with views that made it easy to forget any earthly concerns. To the north and east, the entire Sierra Madre mountain range was laid out as if a pop-up book. In between the ridges, we looked down on clouds that were trapped in some valleys and clearing out in others, and it was easy to see how local weather was impacted so profoundly by the surrounding geography. We saw the Santa Maria volcano that we hiked in Xela, and Santiaguito let out several belches of smoke in front of the rising sun. To the south and west, the land dropped sharply to the coastal plain, which stretched into the horizon until it merged with fog rising from the Pacific. As the sun peaked over the distant mountains, several folks set off fireworks (they’re everywhere) to ring in the first light of the New Year. With each passing minute, the changing light dramatically rearranged the colors and contours of Guatemala and it was easy to see why this spot has been <a href=“/guatemala/volcanoes/“>considered divine </a>as long as people have lived near it.
Besides warming us for the way down, the sunlight had one other dramatic effect on our hike back; it made Arya an influencer. While not unheard of, not many dogs join their owners on mountain hikes in Guatemala, and we have yet to see one that hauls their own water as Arya does. Cutting a distinctive figure in her orange backpack as her long legs skip down the rocks, we were stopped multiple times by folks who wanted to take pictures of Arya by herself, Arya with Clark, and sometimes kicking out the gringo entirely and getting down on their knees to take a selfie with the newfound celebrity. Making small talk in Spanish or English, many were excited to hear that we were appreciating the beauty of Guatemala and all remarked how much Arya seemed to enjoy her hike. These interactions helped break up the long and grating descent, which seemed to take even longer than the hike up. Finally making it to our car, it was hard to believe it wasn’t yet noon; which did little to stop us from relaxing and napping the rest of the day. Before we packed into our car, one more very kind family stopped for the nearby bathroom came to say hi to the odd-looking dog and couple, and gave us recommendations for the area, pets (for the dog), and even a Guatemalan soccer jersey. From the people to the views, it was an amazing way to bring in the New Year.