"Let's bring back hot dogs tomorrow!"

We had just begun descending Volcan Pacaya, an active volcano outside of Antigua, Guatemala, when Jay already started making plans for our return. The footing underneath us sounded hollow and delicate, and looked like rough pieces of charcoal, all deposited from hardened lava during past eruptions.

We started our hike in a small town at the base of the volcano, no doubt created as a result of people flocking to climb Pacaya. After an hour of moderate hiking, plagued by locals on horses asking the heavy breathers in the group if they wanted to take a "taxi natural" the rest of the way up the mountain, we made our way out of the forest, off of the black sandy trail, and onto a more open grassy area where we caught our first glimpse of the actual volcano we were seeking. This was also where we saw what I could only compare to a mud slide, yet it was hundreds of meters of hardened lava that had spilled out in molten waves from Pacaya years ago, and hardened there as a last reminder to trespassers of its incredible power.

We passed by various signs warning us we were approaching a dangerous area, where we would be potentially inhaling harmful volcanic gases, and a friendly warning that we were taking our own lives into our hands and could not blame the volcano for any loss of life should we decide to continue our summit.

So we continued through the grassy area, and then made our first step onto volcanic rock. I was immediately surprised at the sound of the rock underfoot, it was unstable and cracked easily, and when I tapped it with my walking stick it sounded like it was hollow. It didn't necessarily give us a sense of security knowing we were about to climb a volcano that could potentially crumble beneath our feet at any moment, but that was part of the adventure.

We began passing by spots that felt like they were full of industrial strength hair dryers, blowing out incredibly hot air, but when you looked down into the holes all we saw was more rock. About half an hour later our guide jumped up off the "trail", marked only by white, spray painted arrows, sometimes pointing in disagreeing directions, to search for cracks in the volcano where lava spilled out in small rivers or pockets. When he came back to the trail he led us straight to a hot spot, and warned us not to get too close or the soles of our shoes could melt, or better yet we could burn the hair on our heads/arms/etc. So of course we got right up to the hot spot, grabbed another hiker's stick and a couple marshmallows, and started roasting up a storm.

Jay stuck the end of my walking stick into the hole and it promptly started sparking. About thirty seconds later I felt an unfamiliar feeling creeping up through the bottom of my sneakers. It was so hot it almost felt cold, and made me move quickly out of the way. When I stepped back I realized that during our marshmallow roasting I had been standing on a small patch of rock, rimmed with what looked like white powder. Apparently I had been standing on smaller, yet just as heated spots, and moved just in time before my shoes started melting.

Although the heat was impressive, we were still on the hunt for red, liquid lava. So we kept climbing a bit further, til we found a hole in the side of the volcano, about the size of a softball, that led straight down into a patch of actual lava. It was quite an awesome feeling to be able to be that close to something that has decimated villages all over the world, yet this was on such a small, and somewhat more manageable scale... As long as it didn't start spilling out of the hole we were peering down into for a few seconds at a time.

The sun began to set and we knew it was time to make our way down Pacaya with what little natural light we had left, so we could reserve our headlamps for the trek through the forest. We were the second and last group to leave, and a little dog that had been hanging out on the volcano followed us, waiting for Jay and I, the stragglers who kept falling behind to take more pictures, while we found our footing along more treacherous parts of the journey.

As we climbed down and hunger and thirst began to set in, reflecting on our experience Jay chimed in, "Let's bring back hot dogs tomorrow!"