CLIMBING THE MOUNTAIN

I kept thinking that the Christmas holidays would provide one of my last opportunities to "check-off" the major tourist-type attractions of Cameroon that I have not already had the opportunity to experience. When I was in Yaoundé at the beginning of December, I ran into one of the newer business volunteers, Scott, with whom I have become friends. He mentioned that he was going with a larger group to hike up Mt. Cameroon. I had sorta been on the fence about hiking up the mountain since I've never really been that kind of person and the last one I tried (Mt. Manengouba last Christmas) kicked my butt. Scott convinced me that it'd be fun, and since it was so close, I'd later regret not doing it. So, I adjusted my pre-Christmas plans and got out my camping pack and sleeping bag.

I first headed up to Kumba where I met Cathy for a discussion about our bank situation. There are only two other volunteers working in the same bank network as myself, and we wanted to discuss how to work with them to request and utilize Peace Corps volunteers in a meaningful way to the bank and the volunteer. We had a great cheeseburger dinner, but I increasingly felt sick throughout the evening. The following day we were supposed to head out to a lake near Kumba, but I just couldn't make it. I ended up staying in bed all day with a 101F fever and swollen tonsils. I didn't figure out until after I returned from the mountain hike (which I almost cancelled as a result of my being ill) that I had strep throat (among possibly other things).

I did head down to Buea Sunday afternoon before the scheduled climbing on Monday morning. I decided that I had come that far, and I felt well enough to give it a shot. That afternoon we did all our last minute shopping, including all the food that we needed to carry up for the next three days. Menu planning with packaged goods available here in Cameroon is quite a challenge, but we did it, and we didn't starve- although we got kinda tired of the bologna roll and canned tuna on smashed bread.

There were two "teams" heading up the mountain- one for the three-day "highlight" tour and the other for the five-day "leisure" tour. I opted for the three-day tour since two fewer nights sleeping (or not sleeping) in a tent was quite appealing. There are folks who go up and down in one day, and in fact there is a race every February up and down the mountain (supposedly one of the most difficult athletic events in the world) where the winner finishes in four hours-something. The mountain is 4095 meters (13,000+ feet) high, with the starting point below at only 1000 meters (3000+ feet). Essentially, its two vertical miles plus all the horizontal ones. Far. And high.

We got up early the next morning and headed out for the office of the folks who control the hikers up and down the mountain and supposedly maintain the trails and campsites. Our three-person, three-day team consisting of Scott, Annie and myself stayed at another volunteer's house the night before to minimize the confusion in the morning. It worked- we arrived a half-hour before the other team of five did. We grabbed breakfast in the form of a spaghetti omelette, and returned to meet our guide and porter for the next three days. They seemed like nice enough guys, so we took the obligatory group photos and headed off in a taxi to the beginning of the trail. Since we were going express, we went to the most direct route, while our friends started on the backside of the mountain. The route we went up for the next day and a half until the summit is called the "Guinness Route", since they sponsor the yearly race run along this route and since the local advertising says, "Guinness brings out the power in you", I suppose its appropriate.

For most of the first day it was pretty easy going. The paths were clear and relatively wide, the incline not too-steep. We were still pretty tired by lunch break. At that point, as they say down south, we didn't know from tired. I felt more and more lucky in my traveling partners. Scott and Annie were of similar fitness as myself and we more or less went at the same speed and needed breaks at the same time. Our porters were much faster than us, so they just went ahead and waited for us at various break points. Our guide, for some reason, liked to walk behind everyone, making him a little less effective that way (that sounds like a management book, 'You Can't Lead from Behind!'). During the first day, we crossed paths with three folks who had started very early that morning and were now on their way back down. They all had these hiking canes which I guess helps with leg and foot fatigue, and obviously weren't carrying the kind of food and gear that we were. Still, its difficult to imagine.

In the late afternoon, we reached the hut where we slept for the night. It was constructed years ago, but was still in decent shape. We immediately got out our sleeping bags and laid there for a while trying to recover a bit before making dinner. Our guide came to tell us that there was a cave nearby and asked if we wanted to see it. Scott volunteered to check it out to see if it was worth further investigation. At some point, another hiker came in, an American college student studying for a semester in Cameroon. She was alone, and since the other rooms of the hut were already taken by French guys, we offered part of our platformed hut to her. Scott came back saying that the cave was close, but that a flashlight was necessary to go in, which he hadn't brought. Since it was starting to get dark, all three of us headed back with flashlights and jackets (we were high enough that it was already quite cold). Scott and I decided to go down into the cave (it was necessary to climb down into the entrance) while Annie served as our lookout, since we didn't want to be in there after dark. As soon as we got down, we found a small creek running through the middle. All the sides were quite sharp, and it got dark about ten feet into the cave. We explored only about 30 feet in as the structure changed and we didn't want to get in somewhere that might take us a while to get out of. We took a few photos and then climbed back out completing our little diversion.

That night we had canned hot dogs cooked over the fire and a can of semi-warm baked beans. It wasn't all bad. We weren't really interested in talking religion with the other campers (it seemed to be the subject for the night), so we headed to sleep.

The next morning, we were woken by our guide who wanted to get an early start. It became apparent a little later why he felt that way. Beginning the day at around 2500 meters, we had to climb to the summit and back down the backside to about the same 2500 meter elevation. We started on our way at a little before 8am. The trail quickly became steep. At one point, I turned to Scott and said, "I don't think I would climb a ladder any steeper than this". It was a two hands, two feet kind of climb. Between the steepness, our lingering fatigue from the day before and the elevation, we ended up taking breaks quite frequently- about twice as many as were scheduled. Not too long into the hike, we were shown the "magic tree" and told that we'd take a nice break there. After an hour of hiking and two unscheduled breaks, we reached the tree. We decided that it was magic because it kept getting further and further away.

Eventually we reached the top. The porters had left us at the lunch hut and were sitting there waiting for us at the top. I arrived a little before the other two, and took a few pictures of the view, which wasn't all that impressive given the cloud cover. Still, we could see a good bit of what we had climbed up the past day and a half. It felt good to be on top... It was also cold, so when everyone was there, we broke out the bottle of cheap champagne that we had carried up just for this purpose. We shared it with our guide and porters who enjoyed it more than we did -it was pretty terrible. After finishing the bottle, we took some group celebratory photos and headed down.

It felt good going in the other direction. All the muscles used to go up the mountain breathed a sigh of relief while the ones one the other side let out a rebel yell. The first bit was easy, it was fine volcanic gravel (did I mention the mountain is an active volcano, last erupting just three years ago?) It was a bit like going downhill in snow, and was much easier to run down that to walk. After that was the extremely painful irregular shaped volcanic rock, hard and pointy throughout. We hated this part. In the middle of it, we came across the other team of our friends. However, our guide told us we were so far behind where we should be for the day, that we didn't have but about two minutes to stop and talk.

As we were entering the "cones" area, it became evident why they had been pushing us all day. With about an hour left of light, the camp was no where in sight. Still, the cones were the highlight of the trip, and our guide wanted to make sure that we saw them. There were two right together where the lava came out in 2001, and in fact were still steaming. It was really impressive as it was my first visit to an active volcano cone, and unlike Hawaii (or what I've heard of it, anyway), we walked along the rim and could've quite easily fallen in. In fact, one time I did loose my footing on the large gravel surface and almost did. As the sun was setting over the black lava that surrounded us, it was quite a beautiful sight. I tried to capture it on film, but it just didn't come out quite as impressively. If it hasn't already, it'd be a great place to film a movie about some other black, barren planet.

After the sightseeing was finished, we moved into rapid hiking mode to try and get as far as possible before complete darkness. We succeeded only in making it to the grasslands area. Because of the darkness and large clumps of grasses, our guide lost the path (although we were always heading in the right direction) and it became a fight to not fall from poor footing and twisted ankles- a fight we all lost on multiple occasions (including our guide). We stopped trusting our guide (a bad thing to do on the mountain) since he kept telling us the camp was just ahead, were tired (it had already been eleven hours since we left camp that morning), and not a little bit cranky. Finally, just when we had almost decided to sleep there in the grasses (thank GOD there were no snakes), we saw a flashlight off in the distance. A couple of guides with the other groups had come back to look for us. At long last, we made it to the camp where our porters had set up our tent and were busy cooking their dinner, only an hour, but seemingly an eternity after dark had fallen.

It was a rough night following a rough day (how anyone could call that thing a three-person tent is astonishing). When we had taken care of our more immediate wounds, Scott took charge and went to fill our water bottles at the stream. When he returned, Scott somehow convinced me to help him make dinner over at the fire- an exciting meal of cous-cous and the rest of our bologna roll. When we had finished and were carrying our meal over to the tent to eat with Annie, Scott stood up from the fire and took the shelter above and around the fire with him. The whole thing came crashing down. I couldn't help but laugh, as I had escaped with the food and Scott was trying to put it back together. We ate quickly, leaving the dirty dishes outside and not caring about night animals- fatigue had overtaken us.

The next morning, however, we got up and headed on our way. I had fallen so much the previous day and twisted my ankle that I taped it up before leaving camp. The porters saw this and insisted on taking my bag for the day. I wasn't sure it was necessary, but was happy to be free to fall without the extra weight. As a result, I kept a rapid pace, usually with the porters for the rest of the way out. Being our last day, we did our best to eat the food and drink the water so that we hadn't carried it all that time for no reason. Several hours after the grasslands and into the rainforest (where there used to be chimps), Annie came to our resting spot clearly too tired to carry on. Her shoes had litterally fallen apart on the hike - disintegrated is probably a better word, and every step was pure pain. I then took her backpack for the rest of the day, and we slowed down to minimize the torture she was going through. At long last, we arrived at the end of the trail, walked through a small village (where all the kids cried out, "White man!" - their powers of observation are amazing), and took a taxi back to the office where we started three days before. In the fight of man against nature, nature had clearly won this round, but we were happy about it.