Conspiracy theories surface around pretty much everything, especially on the internet. So when 2016 satellite imagery showed what appeared to be a pyramid in Antarctica that was large enough to be seen from outer space Was Antarctica previously home to an ancient civilization Does the familiar shape in unfamiliar terrain have anything to do with Pangea Although such theories are exciting to entertain online sleuths did not find scientific evidence of an advanced ancient (possibly extraterrestrial) civilization in the desolate snow and ice sheets of the South Pole The pyramid-shaped point is actually one of several peaks in the southern Ellsworth Mountains a section of the Heritage Range named after the American aviator Lincoln Ellsworth you can see the now-famous "pyramid in Antarctica." "It's just a mountain that looks like a pyramid," says Eric Rignot a professor of Earth system science at the University of California As this professor of environmental science, climate scientists and most geology experts worth their halite will tell you many peaks partially resemble human-built structures mountains that have developed right angles on one to two faces naturally are well-documented this pyramid-shaped mountain likely developed its form from freeze-thaw erosion over hundreds of millions of years Three symmetrical faces eroded at the same rate while the eastern ridge formed independently Here are some more pyramidal peaks that are sadly not the discovered remains of alien spaceships that crash-landed on Earth a million years ago It is difficult to find a better example of natural beauty than the Cordilla Blanca mountain range in the Peruvian Andes this nearly 20,000-foot (6,100-meter) peak presents a unique angular glacial horn that closely mimics the pyramidal shape of Giza's ancient wonders This aptly named peak developed its pyramid-like sides through natural processes similar to those of the unnamed mountain in Antarctica. However, this Canadian peak is the product of a primordial "song of ice and fire," as volcanic eruptions contacted ice sheets This mountain range is home to some of Europe's southernmost glaciers which lends to similar freeze-thaw erosion Please copy/paste the following text to properly cite this HowStuffWorks.com article: `;return t.byline_authors_html&&(e+=`By: ${t.byline_authors_html}`),t.byline_authors_html&&t.byline_date_html&&(e+=" | "),t.byline_date_html&&(e+=t.byline_date_html),e+=`\n\t\t\t\t and Fassbinder paddle the Rio Antigua; Photograph by Jim HarrisWindmilling his kayak paddle into the pushy breeze pulls onto the sandbar at the mouth of Mexico’s Rio Antigua and squints at the novelty of a flat seascape horizon in the hazy afternoon glare Two days of sleepless dysentery have drained Mehl’s prodigious vigor and his hands are blanched and clammy as we high-five he’s grinning with accomplishment in the salt air Eleven days earlier we’d set out pedaling bikes strapped with mountaineering and whitewater paddling gear in Cholula de Rivadavia Mehl composed a 230-mile bike/hike/packraft triathlon first to Pico de Orizaba (18,491 feet) and then descending through rain forest hamlets to a whitewater river Mehl’s BMX racing roots reemerge on dusty corners; Photograph by Jim HarrisMehl has risen to a sort of auspicious fame in his home state of Alaska With a mind inclined toward calculations and an academic background in geophysics Mehl scrutinizes topographic maps just for fun he then turns his laser beam focus to traveling it Completion of trips like his Mt Logan Traverse garner a mix of awe and envy from the cadre of wilderness adventurers who follow his exploits I count myself among the admirers of his multisport traverses and so I accepted his invitation to join this trip Two other athletes were also enticed by Luc’s outline of a plan Tumolo’s work as a mountain guide on Denali and Fassbinder’s job building packrafts hint at just how dedicated both are to wilderness travel Converging for the first time in the Mexico City International Airport wearing the only set of clothes they’ve brought Their technical fabric pants and weathered trail running shoes stand out amid the sea of loafers and slacks There must have been a moment when he weighed the option of a traverse beginning at the baggage claim but settled instead for a bus ride out of Mexico City before starting The movie playing on little screens overhead shows hobos running to jump on a moving train but I’m watching pedestrians sprint to swing themselves on a bus moving parallel to ours As our bus burrows into the mash of nighttime traffic Steve Fassbinder adjusts the derailleur on Todd Tumolo’s “Look Rich” brand bicycle; Photograph by Jim HarrisWe begin the hunt for bicycles the following day in Cholula Starting at a shop that deals expensive name brands we work our way across town searching for bargains I imagined finding some well-built old steeds but with none to be found at pawnshops and used bike garages we splurge on the cheapest new mountain bikes we can find they’re already in questionable repair and we work into the night truing un-tensioned spokes and bolting on gear racks With packrafts rolled in tight burritos and strapped to our handlebars The very first pothole loosens my handlebars from the clasp of the bike’s stem and they begin spinning With plans to give the bikes away when we reach the headwaters of Rio Antigua we’d sought cheap ones and hope our mechanical know-how will help us nurse them through the coming days of hard riding One of Fassbinder’s crank arms doesn’t tighten to the bottom bracket My rear tire blisters before exploding a few miles later We pull over often to re-align shoddy parts and tighten bolts on our overloaded bicis Squeezed between semi trucks and tall curbs The next one isn’t more than a dry pancake but I cringe as I roll over the matted fur One that’s hit but not yet dead watches us pass and the grim vision spins in my head The frequency of road kill dogs becomes our litmus for how dangerous this road is There’s no room for bikes in the slim lanes and we continue in the ditch When we turn onto a quieter route a dozen miles later I’m relieved to find long intervals between both dead dogs and passing semi trucks Todd Tumolo pedals switchbacks up Orizaba as the sun breaks over the horizon; Photograph by Jim HarrisOur route climbs gradually toward Pico de Orizaba Its hazy triangle outline distills into a white pyramid as we crest the foothill town of Tlachichuca The pavement ends more than 9,000 feet below the summit but the climb continues on a rutted road blanketed in a thick duff of powdery volcanic dust we’re magnets for the billows of airborne ash that swirl from our feet as we push our bikes up the steep 4wd track Tumolo admires the view from the flanks of Pico de Orizaba; Photograph by Jim HarrisIn the thin air at 14,000 feet we lean against the cracked stonework of Pico de Orizaba’s Piedra Grande Refugio and unbuckle the ice axes that have rattled against our bike frames for the last 70 miles a trail leads upward through talus and worn slabs to the shrinking glacier that cups the upper slopes of Orizaba’s cone and Fassbinder have fashioned insulated booties that fit over running shoes and under crampons Their puffy Smurf feet look like caricatures we bask for an hour and a half in the high-watt sunshine and watch black little puffs of smoke sprout like mushrooms as trash piles are lit in villages 10,000 and 15,000 feet below Climbing Orizaba; Photograph by Jim HarrisThat same afternoon we are back on bikes and coasting through towns where the rubbish piles still smolder Chickens patrol the streets and flocks of kids materialize from ditches and alleys to chase our alien gringo bike gang The summit’s lean atmosphere transitions to a misty fragrant one where white rivers of vapor flow up from the rain forest below we ask a farmer permission to camp in the rows of cornfield he’s walking stopping for street tacos and eating produce right from the stand One hungry night we buy two roasted chickens and savage them on the spot despite our filthy hands We’re a conspicuous group and there’s no part of our appearance—from gear-laden bicycles to our roadside campsites—that helps us blend in friendly and curious strangers wave us down to ask where we’re headed One last switchbacking descent leads to a bridge over the Rio Antigua where we plan to put in Sixty miles and 15,000 feet down from Orizaba’s summit we’ve taken the bikes as far as we need them they creak less and feel almost nimble as we pedal into a pueblo pequeño just upstream “Qué quiere esta bicicleta?” I ask a man delivering a sack of coffee beans he shakes my hand between both of his then pedals off Our bikes twirl through town under their new owners The final leg of Mehl’s traverse entails paddling inflatable Alpacka Raft boats 80 miles downriver to the Gulf of Mexico and pack down to the size of a small two-person tent zippers in the boats’ sterns allow us to pack equipment inside before blowing them up the boats have a low center of gravity that adds stability and helps them punch through grabby rapids The first section of our float carries us down Barranca Grande canyon There are few paths into the narrow jungle gorge and so the valley remains nearly uninhabited Class III and IV rapids twist through deep shade of the 1,000-foot-deep corridor and we leapfrog downstream drifting along overhanging walls shaggy with ferns the pristine character of the river changes when the walls angle apart and tributaries carrying sewage and wastewater pour in I spit river water from my compressed lips Mehl falls ill and spends the night retching in the bushes It’s impossible to pinpoint the source of our illnesses But the increasingly polluted river seems a probable culprit The Rio Antigua had grown in volume as it snaked through lush forests but as it neared the ocean Pumps hoovering water for pastures roar two-stroke staccato along the banks and each riffle feels shallower than the last We know we must be close to the Gulf when the current stalls and pelicans appear We hit the Gulf of Mexico 14 miles north of Veracruz and find an empty Storms have deposited a dense confetti of sandblasted tree trunks and plastic flotsam We clear driftwood and garbage from the lee of a cactus outcrop and construct camp It’s sunset and Tumolo and I are catching waves in our packrafts sometimes riding them all the way into the beach and other times getting pummeled in the break After 11 days spent moving towards this beach Long trips like this one don’t always easily fit into a neat narrative arc Summiting Orizaba was the physical high point Tomorrow we’ll walk and hitchhike to Veracruz and I’ll search out transport back to Mexico City Mehl is already talking about his next adventure Copyright © 1996-2015 National Geographic SocietyCopyright © 2015-2025 National Geographic Partners