Frozen in Time: Rediscovering Legends on Mount Aconcagua Through a Resurfaced Camera
High on Mount Aconcagua, the towering pinnacle of the Western Hemisphere, the Polish Glacier reveals relics of its frozen past. On a clear February day, amid the thin and arid air, two porters preparing for an upcoming expedition stumbled upon an unexpected treasure — a 50-year-old Nikomat 35 mm camera. Spat out by the shrinking glacier, the camera bore witness to the relentless cycles of snow and ice.
As the sun glinted off the camera, its shattered lens and a dial indicating 24 captured photographs hinted at a mysterious narrative. Nestled in a worn leather holster with a thick strap, the camera revealed an American name and a Colorado address, etched in blue embossing tape. Unaware of the historical weight it carried, one of the porters brought it down to camp, catching the eye of veteran guide Ulises Corvalan.
Intrigued by the name on the camera — "Janet Johnson" — Corvalan's casual inquiry triggered an unexpected revelation. The mere mention of Janet Johnson stirred excitement and gasps. The unfolding tale reached back to the deadly 1973 American expedition on Mount Aconcagua. Janet Johnson, a schoolteacher from Denver, and John Cooper, a NASA engineer from Texas, were central figures in a lingering legend marked by contradictions, whispers of foul play, and a judge-initiated investigation.
As the old camera emerged from the receding glacier, it brought with it the echoes of a bygone era, wound and prepared to capture the next chapter. Climate change and chance conspired to breathe life into a long-lost legend, unraveling the mysteries surrounding Johnson and Cooper. Nearly five decades later, their story finds new light, etching their names further into the folklore of Aconcagua. The camera, a silent witness to the past, now stands as a portal to a tale that continues to captivate with its unanswered questions and enigmatic allure.
Aconcagua's Towering Legacy: Scaling the Andean Behemoth
Aconcagua, a majestic behemoth in the Andes, stands as a testament to the resilience and daring spirit of mountaineers. Resembling a broad-shouldered fist, this colossal peak has witnessed the pursuit of summit glory since the late 19th century. Matthias Zurbriggen of Switzerland claimed the title of the first known person to conquer its 22,838-foot summit in 1897.
Fast forward to 1934, a Polish expedition charted an audacious course on Aconcagua's northeastern side, ascending a colossal glacier that extended nearly 2,000 vertical feet toward the summit. This treacherous ascent bestowed a name upon the ice sheet — El Glaciar de los Polacos, the Polish Glacier. The mountain, through 2022, has borne witness to 153 known deaths, and among them, Janet Johnson and John Cooper marked the 26th and 27th casualties in 1973.
Half a century ago, Aconcagua offered only rudimentary services to climbers. With no GPS trackers and no communication between base camp and summit, climbers relied on binoculars and a flare gun for navigation. The climbing party in 1973, predominantly members of the Mazamas climbing club, embarked on this perilous journey with Mazamas founder Carmie Dafoe as their leader.
Miguel Alfonso, a seasoned Argentine guide with five summit successes, including one via the Polish Route, led the group. The expedition comprised American men, including Jim Petroske, a psychiatrist from Portland; Bill Eubank, a physician from Kansas City; Arnold McMillen, a dairy farmer from Oregon; Bill Zeller, a police officer from Salem; John Shelton, a geology student fluent in Spanish; and John Cooper, a NASA engineer from Houston.
These weekend climbers, bound by a shared passion for adventure, underwent training and camaraderie-building exercises organized by Dafoe. The final addition to the eight-person American crew was Janet Johnson, a woman from Denver, announced in November 1972.
As the expedition took shape, Aconcagua's towering slopes held the promise of triumph and tragedy, a saga that would etch the names of its climbers, including Johnson and Cooper, into the annals of mountaineering history.
Janet Johnson: A Life Etched in Quiet Courage and Alpine Heights
Born on November 30, 1936, into a world of unknowns, Janet Johnson's life unfolded with quiet determination and a love for the mountains. Adopted by Victor and Mae Johnson of Minneapolis, Janet was raised in a home adorned with manners, rules, and faith. A voracious reader with a tidy bedroom, she played the organ at St. John's Lutheran Church, embodying the values instilled by her adoptive parents.
Janet's early years marked a desire for companionship, leading the Johnsons to adopt Judie when Janet was 10. However, a deeper aspect of Janet's identity surfaced when, in college, her sister discovered love notes between Janet and another young woman. Confronted with societal norms of the time, Janet was sent to a hospital in St. Paul to "cure" her homosexuality, creating a lasting rift with her mother. Despite this, she forged her path, settling in Denver, earning degrees, including a doctorate in education.
Teaching in elementary schools and later becoming a school librarian, Janet found solace and passion in the mountains. Joining the Colorado Mountain Club, she achieved the remarkable feat of summiting each of Colorado's "fourteeners" by the age of 30, becoming the 82nd known person and one of the first 20 women to achieve this feat.
Taking a hiatus from her career in the 1972-73 school year, Janet embarked on a European hiking trip and proudly joined the upcoming Mazamas expedition to Aconcagua. Packed with an aluminum-frame backpack and adorned with a silver watch and a New Mexico stone ring, she carried a Nikomat camera, capturing moments she never knew would transcend time.
The journey to Aconcagua marked a significant chapter in Janet's life. American newspapers bid them farewell, and Argentine newspapers awaited their arrival at the Nutibara Hotel in Mendoza's city center. Little did they know that Janet's legacy would extend beyond the mountain peaks, resonating through the rediscovery of her camera nearly five decades later, bearing witness to a life of quiet courage and a passion for the heights.
A Suspicion Unveiled: Dark Premonitions Amidst Aconcagua's Ascent
In the shadow of Aconcagua's towering peaks, a foreboding sense loomed over the Americans attempting the perilous climb. Rafael Moran, a reporter for Los Andes in Mendoza, found himself intrigued by the enigmatic group: Americans, the Polish Glacier, and notably, a woman. Moran, sensing an unsettling aura among the climbers, instructed the photographer to capture each of their faces that day, harboring a chilling premonition that not all would return.
The next day's newspaper unveiled the planned ascent, featuring the Americans huddled around a photo of Aconcagua. The caption highlighted the presence of a NASA engineer, John Cooper, at the center of the group. Just a month prior, in December 1972, Cooper had been at mission control in Houston for the final Apollo mission, contributing to the historic Apollo program that landed humans on the moon.
Cooper, a surface operations engineer at NASA, had a swashbuckling spirit more akin to an astronaut than a desk engineer. In 1968, he married Sandy Myers, and they welcomed a son named Randy in 1969, coinciding with the Apollo 11 mission. Cooper's significant role in the Apollo program marked historic moments, including guiding Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin during the first moonwalk in 1969.
On January 12, 1973, Cooper's journey took him from Houston to Miami, where he met Janet Johnson. Together, they flew to Argentina, embarking on an expedition that would soon face challenges. The Americans, grappling with the unforgiving mountain, encountered early difficulties. Cooper's diary noted the illness of Bill Eubank, the expedition doctor, even before reaching Casa de Piedra, a stone house at the confluence of the Vacas and Relinchos rivers.
The unsettling dynamics within the group became apparent as they reached base camp at around 13,500 feet. Roberto Bustos, hired to manage the base camp, observed a mix of high-quality gear and an unsettling atmosphere among the climbers. The mountain, it seemed, held secrets that would unravel in the days to come, leaving the fate of the American expedition hanging in the balance.
A Fractured Ascent: Struggles and Tragedy Unfold on Aconcagua's Icy Slopes
As the American expedition unfolded on the towering slopes of Aconcagua, the ominous signs of unpreparedness and disconnection among the climbers became glaringly apparent. Roberto Bustos, managing the base camp, sensed a lack of group cohesion and a prevailing sense that each member had to fend for themselves, an unsettling realization when facing the challenges of Aconcagua.
The hierarchical structure within the group, with Carmie Dafoe in charge, Jim Petroske as deputy leader, and others like Eubank, Shelton, Zeller, McMillen, Cooper, and Johnson without defined roles, added to the unraveling dynamics. Aconcagua, a strange and formidable mountain, demanded meticulous preparation and a collective mindset, elements seemingly absent in this particular expedition.
The routine of shuttling up and down the mountain, adjusting to the altitude, and moving gear was the norm. Camps at varying elevations served as waypoints in the journey. However, the effects of altitude began to fracture the expedition. While three members, including Dafoe, stayed at Camp 1, others, including Johnson and Cooper, advanced to Camp 2 with Alfonso. Progressing to Camp 3 at the base of the Polish Glacier, the group faced unexpected challenges.
A storm swept through, providing a much-needed day of rest but also altering the dynamics. Petroske's sudden loss of coordination prompted Alfonso to escort him back to base camp, cleaving the American team in half. Cooper, Johnson, Zeller, and McMillen pressed on, facing the formidable glacier at around 21,000 feet.
Their ascent, slow and arduous, led them to dig a snow cave on the glacier for refuge as night fell. Without sleeping bags, they laid on reflective space blankets as wind swept fine powder from the summit, filling the cave opening with snow. The harsh conditions took a toll, with Cooper succumbing to cold and exhaustion. Despite Johnson's efforts to unbury him, Cooper made the fateful decision to turn back, never reaching Camp 3.
The exact circumstances surrounding Cooper and Johnson's deaths remain shrouded in speculation, echoing through the decades. Aconcagua, unforgiving and enigmatic, held its secrets, leaving an indelible mark on the tragic chapter that unfolded on its icy slopes 50 years ago.
A Shroud of Mystery: Aconcagua's Unanswered Questions
In the wake of the tragic events on Aconcagua's icy slopes, the mysteries surrounding John Cooper and Janet Johnson deepened, weaving a narrative of uncertainty and speculation. Two Oregon men, Zeller and McMillen, the last witnesses to see Cooper and Johnson alive, provided detailed accounts that, while generally aligned, harbored slight contradictions and were tainted by the disorienting effects of high-altitude hallucinations.
As Argentine authorities sought answers, the survivors, including Alfonso, were held for questioning at the base of Aconcagua. Judge Victorio Miguel Calandria Agüero and a police investigator delved into the case, labeling it an "averiguación de homicidio culposo" — an investigation of manslaughter. The pressing question lingered: How did Cooper and Johnson meet their demise? The absence of their bodies left an unsettling void in the quest for answers.
In late 1973, as a new summer climbing season dawned, a four-man team, led by Alfonso, embarked on a mission to locate Cooper and Johnson. National Geographic reporter Loren McIntyre joined the team, eager to document the search. Their journey led them to the ghostly remnants of the American expedition — tattered tents, a torn blue sleeping bag, and about 150 yards uphill from camp, Cooper's frozen body.
A storm forced the team to leave Cooper overnight, driving stakes to secure him in place. When they returned the next day, McIntyre, the first to reach the body, documented detailed photographs. Missing a crampon, without an ice ax, Cooper lay on a gentle slope, his face frozen in terror, and his abdomen bearing a bloody, cylindrical hole. The judge sealed the full autopsy results but released the cover page, revealing the cause of death: Cranial contusions and injuries to the skull and brain.
Yet, the enigma persisted. Janet Johnson remained missing. It wasn't until February 9, 1975, that a 17-year-old climber named Alberto Colombero, accompanied by his father, Ernesto, and Guillermo Vieiro, stumbled upon Johnson's body. A reddish anomaly caught Colombero's eye, initially thought to be a tarp, tent, or backpack. The discovery marked a crucial turn in the investigation, bringing a semblance of closure yet leaving behind a myriad of unanswered questions, casting a perpetual shroud of mystery over the events on Aconcagua's unforgiving slopes.
The Frozen Frames: A Glimpse through Time on Aconcagua
In the desolate heights of Aconcagua, a camera emerged from the icy grip of the Polish Glacier, bearing witness to the untold tale of Janet Johnson and John Cooper. Discovered face up, Johnson's battered and blackened remains revealed a gruesome scene — her face marred in three places, white bone protruding, and blood stains marking the passage of time. With a missing crampon, entangled ropes, and the absence of her ice ax, the peculiar detail of a rock sitting atop Johnson further fueled suspicions.
Alberto Colombero, who stumbled upon Johnson's body with his father and a companion, recalled the chilling discovery. The slope seemed inconsistent with the reported fall described by Zeller, raising doubts about the circumstances surrounding Johnson's demise. Colombero's account suggested that the older men, seasoned climbers, harbored a conviction that Janet Johnson met a tragic end, possibly even a murder.
The enigmatic camera, locked in the glacier's icy embrace for almost five decades, found its way to Film Rescue International in Saskatchewan. Run by Greg Miller and his team, the facility specializes in processing old or damaged film. As the camera's mechanisms proved surprisingly intact, the anticipation built. In a dark room, under infrared light, Erik LaBossiere carefully processed the film, unveiling a time capsule frozen in the harsh embrace of Aconcagua.
The roll contained 24 photographs, offering a poignant glimpse into the final moments on the unforgiving slopes. Midday sun cast shadows as Johnson captured her fellow climber seated on the glacier. As afternoon shadows lengthened, the climbers prepared to dig a cave for the night. Cooper would descend the next morning, leaving Johnson and two others to forge ahead. Through Johnson's lens, the stark beauty of the mountain and the resilience of those who dared to conquer it echoed through time, immortalized in frozen frames atop Aconcagua.
Frozen in Time: Aconcagua's Unanswered Frames
As the sun dipped below the jagged peaks of the Andes, Janet Johnson, perched on the unforgiving slopes of Aconcagua, captured the fading light in three poignant photographs. In those precious moments before darkness descended, Johnson, whether battling oxygen deprivation or succumbing to delirium, exhibited a photographer's skill — focusing the lens, composing the frame, and holding the camera steady to immortalize the majestic expanse of the surrounding Andes.
Yet, with the click of the shutter, the film abruptly ended, leaving an indelible mark on the mountain's mystique. The legend of Aconcagua, shrouded in the frozen frames, remains unsolved, a tantalizing enigma that deepens with each exposure. The film unveils what Johnson saw in her final hours, but the veil over her emotions, the circumstances of her death, and the unanswered questions persist.
In the realm of Aconcagua's icy embrace, not every discovery yields revelation; some beckon us to explore further, to unravel the intricacies of a story frozen in time. The frames, a testament to Johnson's journey and the mountain's relentless grip, evoke a profound sense of wonder, sparking a relentless curiosity that lingers, like the mountain's eternal whispers echoing through the ages.
In the heart of Aconcagua's icy domain, the frames discovered in the frozen camera offer a glimpse into Janet Johnson's final hours, capturing the sublime beauty of the Andes in her lens. Yet, the enigma persists, refusing to yield the secrets of her emotions, the circumstances of her demise, or the lingering mysteries that shroud the mountain. The conclusion remains elusive, beckoning further exploration into the untold chapters of Aconcagua's legend. As the frames unfurl a visual narrative frozen in time, the story echoes through the ages, leaving us with a profound sense of wonder and an insatiable curiosity that continues to be stirred by the mountain's timeless whispers.