ᐅ Summit Nº 25 Aragats (Armenia) | Top Summits of the World

SUMMITS

SUMMIT Nº 25: ARAGATS NORTH (ARMENIA)

ARMENIA

ARAGATS NORTH

25/06/2025

ALTITUDE

4.090 m

VICENTE DE LA ROSA AND ANDREU LÓPEZ

DIFFICULTY LEVEL

MEDIUM

CHRONICLE

I arrive at El Prat Airport to take the Barcelona-Rome flight, which departs at 10:00 PM and leaves me in the Italian capital at midnight. The flight connection is terrible, and the flight to Yerevan doesn’t depart until 6:00 AM, so I have about 3-4 hours of “rest” in the “comfortable” surroundings of Rome-Fimicino Airport.

The Rome-Yerevan flight takes about 4 hours, which, combined with the 2-hour time difference with Spain, means I arrive at 12:00 PM (Armenian local time). Armenia is a country with nearly 3 million inhabitants, 1,100,000 of whom are concentrated in the capital. It has been an independent country since 1991, following the dissolution of the Soviet Union, a part of which it had been a part since 1936, amidst a very difficult coexistence. The 20th century has brutally punished the Armenian people, where the genocide perpetrated between 1915 and 1923 by the Ottoman Empire, which claimed the lives of between 1.5 and 2 million civilians, remains a vivid memory.

My local contact, Tigran, is waiting for me at the airport exit. I contact him through Orhan, who was my guide on the ascent to Ararat (Turkey’s highest peak) and who works in Turkey’s neighboring and bordering countries (Georgia, Azerbaijan, Iran, and Armenia).
From my conversation with him in the vehicle, I realize the country’s decadent and defeated spirit, and the successive and multiple defeats accumulated in recent times weigh heavily. One of them is Mount Ararat, which has always been considered one of the main symbols of Armenia, but in 1923 a Treaty between Turkey and the Soviet Union awarded this land to the Ottomans (Armenia sees Ararat Mountain as a historical and legal part of its territory, and even its coat of arms contains a representation of the esteemed mountain).

Tigran is an entrepreneur in this Armenian national decline, boasting several important businesses and projects in the form of tourist accommodations, as well as being the owner of the country’s first and only mountain base camp. He is a very intelligent person, although his manners are noticeably lazy, as well as his lack of interest in dealing with tourists, even though they are the ones who feed him.

I haven’t slept all night, so I rest for a couple of hours before setting out to explore Yerevan. Around 5:30 p.m., with the heat calming down, we set out with Tigran to explore the city. He introduces me to Republic Square, the Cascade Complex, which clearly reflects the Soviet influence on the city, the Yerevan Opera House, and the modern North Avenue, the city’s main pedestrian street and a place with restaurants, shops, and luxury hotels. We don’t extend the walk too long, as tomorrow we have to get up early and head to Azhdahak Base Camp (3,200 meters), owned by Tigran himself, where we will train at altitude.

As soon as I wake up, I meet Vicente de la Rosa, hereafter “Vicen,” who will be my partner for the next few days on our adventure through the Caucasus. He arrived at the lodge at 4:00 a.m. from Murcia, and we had previously discussed the trip on WhatsApp with great understanding; I have a feeling he will be a great companion. It’s the morning of introductions, and Tigran introduces us to Garik, who will be our laborer/helper for the next few days. We get into our vehicle (a rather inconspicuous, very authentic, Soviet-style orange van). Halfway between Yerevan and Azhdahak Base Camp, we pick up Chiara and Matteo, an Italian couple who will be sharing these two days at base camp with us.

Azhdahak Base Camp is a young project, only three years old and still little known internationally, although it has the potential to welcome mountaineers from all over the world, as the surroundings are both beautiful and offer a variety of hiking options.
We have something to eat and, since it’s late in the day, we head out early for the day hike that will take us to the Azhdahak summit at 3,600 meters above sea level. It’s a fairly long climb, although quite intense and steep. The mountain is a crater, and we head to its base, where there’s a beautiful lake where we enjoy a pleasant time with our Italian companions and our friend Vicen.

The hike will have been a good altitude test, which will be very useful for us on Aragats North, which stands at 4,090 meters high. We won’t sleep too late, as Vicen barely slept the night before, and tomorrow we have another day of trekking ahead of us.

I wake up first and take the opportunity to complete a short walk around Base Camp and stretch my legs before breakfast. Today’s hike is longer, about 15 kilometers long, although unlike yesterday’s, it has virtually no elevation gain, and we spend the entire time around the 3,200-meter mark. The day’s goal is Lake Akna, a pilgrimage site for Armenians on weekends, where we witness several barbecues, which the Armenians kindly invite us to participate in. I finished the barbecue round with five or six glasses of wine in my system, although fortunately for me, the return trip didn’t present any major uneven terrain, as if it had, I’d be a clear candidate for a championship-level fall.

We arrived at base camp in mid-afternoon, satisfied with the days spent in the mountains and with the new people and cultures we’d met. We spent the last few hours in Azhdahak enjoying a good dinner and the company of the group.

After a couple of days of nature and mountain activities, a day of cultural, architectural, and religious activities awaited us. The day at Azhdahak Base Camp began in the Armenian style: improvised, without a schedule, and with great calm and discretion. The initial plan was to leave around 9:30, but we left the mountain around 12:00 and, after undoing the winding path of stones and potholes, we reached inhabited areas where we left Chiara and Matteo, the transalpine company, who will continue a different journey from ours.

The bubble of misinformation and isolation we were in (we had no Wi-Fi at the base camp, nor did we have roaming in Armenia) is ending, and unfortunately, we are becoming aware of the state of the world’s health, and that the diagnosis is one of sickness and hunger for greed and power. The Israeli genocide in Palestine continues (remember that the Armenian genocide by the Turks killed 1.5-2 million innocent civilians at the beginning of the 20th century), combined with attacks in Iran, which borders Armenia and is exactly 50-60 kilometers away. All of this makes us realize how lucky we are to simply live in peace in our homelands.

Our first cultural stop of the day is at the Garni Temple, the only preserved pagan temple in the country and which bears certain architectural similarities to the Parthenon in Athens. Very close to the Garni Temple is another highly recommended stop in the Garni Canyon: the Symphony of Stones. The Symphony of Stones is a curious geological feature. Due to river erosion, the canyon has well-preserved walls with large basalt columns, creating an incredible natural setting shaped like a grand organ.

After a typical Armenian lunch with a hearty portion of meat, we headed to the Geghard Monastery, a unique architectural structure partially excavated into the adjacent mountain and surrounded by cliffs (it has been on the UNESCO World Heritage List since 2000).
After an interesting day of temples, monasteries, and Armenian culture, it was time for our retreat. Tigran dropped us off at Camping 3G’s Resort, a fantastic resort led by the Dutch Sandra, where we could recharge our batteries before heading into the final part of the trip, climbing the Aragats Northern Summit.

The rest has been so beneficial to us, and we’re so comfortable here that we delay the taxi ride back to the capital, Yerevan, so we can enjoy the resort’s pool and sunbathe for a while. The taxi arrives promptly at the new time of 11:00, taking us back to Yerevan, where Tigran awaits us. Our goal for the day is relatively unambitious, consisting solely of reaching Lake Kari (3,200 meters), the starting point of the route and the campsite. So, on this transition day, we have free time to visit Yerevan’s markets, buy some souvenirs, and stock up on supplies for the climb to Aragats.

After lunch, we met up with Garik, Tigran’s assistant and practically the only person working, since Tigran, at 47, is only good for drinking and eating, counting bills, and little else.
We climbed into our iconic orange vehicle, which is impossible to miss wherever it goes, and set off for the summit. In a two-hour drive, we gained about 2,000 meters of elevation, and the higher we climbed, the more winding the road became. However, this road, in such poor condition, had its reward at the end: Lake Kari (3,200 meters) was a spectacular and beautiful place. Along with the magic of the lake, on the horizon, we could see Mount Ararat, the highest point in Turkey at 5,137 meters, which we reached in July 2022.
We didn’t move much during the day (only by car), and with Vicen, who has been fantastic company on this trip and with whom we bonded perfectly, we decided to stretch our legs on a 60-minute walk before dinner.
We had dinner inside the vehicle since it was quite cold outside. A dish invented by Garik with potatoes, meat, and onions (very well cooked) warmed us up and energized us. We headed back early to the tents since we’ll have to get up early tomorrow.
Around 7:00 a.m., we were already traveling with Garik and Vicen. Tigran fell asleep; this was clearly too much for him. The landscape was very beautiful, and despite the altitude of over 3,000 meters, we could still see the green color in the surroundings. The green soon disappeared, but we replaced it with white, although the snow hadn’t subsided, and we were able to make progress without too much difficulty. We reached a hill from where we saw, as if they were four towers of string, the Aragats East, West, South and North, the latter being our objective and the highest point in the country at 4,090 meters.

After the hill, we have to lose about 250-300 meters in altitude. I’m a bit lazy to walk down, so I use my sled body and throw myself down the mountain. Needless to say, I’m gaining a head start on my expedition companions. Today, my gastrointestinal tract isn’t feeling well (with several technical stops to “expel”), so it’s necessary to optimize my efforts.

Having lost altitude, we can now clearly see the summit on the horizon, where we’ll have to progress, alternating between snowy sections and others where it’s easy to avoid. The truth is that the experience of previous years with high-altitude destinations like the Andes (Bolivia and Chile above 6,500 meters), the Alps last year in ’24 (above 4,500 meters), Kilimanjaro (practically 6,000 meters), and Ararat (5,200 meters) have positively affected my mountain memory, and I don’t notice the altitude sickness at all when I reach the 4,000-meter mark.

I also feel very satisfied physically. From October of last year in ’24 until March of this year in ’25, I’ve had significant knee discomfort (a result of poor professional practice by a mountain guide, Ivan Moshnikov), which has raised significant doubts about my continued mountaineering career. Reaching a 4,000-meter summit is a very good indicator that these problems are beginning to become a thing of the past, history, and that I’m approaching optimal fitness.

We reached 4,090 meters and celebrated with Vicen. He’s not as accustomed to trekking, but the truth is he’s a cracker and a jack-of-all-trades in many different areas of life. The TSOW flag merges with the sky and the roof of Armenia, marking the 25th conquest of a world roof, a significant milestone that fills me with happiness and pride. As an adventurer and mountaineer, this entire journey up to this point is a good one to follow, and I hope to continue advancing on this project that fills my spirit and my backpack with life.