The grand old duke of york….
He may have had 10, 000 men…but why on god’s earth did he march them all to the top of the hill just to march them down again??
In my infinite wisdom… i too decided that climbing a mountain (in this instance masaya volcano, ometepe Nicaragua) …for the sheer heck of it seemed like a good idea… And hence…at the wee crack of dawn… Donned in my best hiking gear, i braved the aftermath of the preceeding evening’s rather impressive (and destructive) tropical storm and further more braved a nicarauguan breakfast (thus far the food here has not done me any favours… see previous blog) and set out to hike Masaya volcano…
Now, ometepe is an island in lake Nicaragua that consists solely of 2 volcanoes and the narrow land mass joining the two… and the sheer creation of this island makes it a treasure to behold and an inspirational view to seek… And while you may call me soft in tackling the smaller of the peaks, nowhere in the brochure did it mention that it is in fact.. THE CLIMB FROM HELL!!! In fact…within just a few short minutes (of scaling what felt like a sheer cliff face) while enduring the Nicaraguan humidity i already had an inkling that this would perhaps not be a gentle little stroll…
An hour later… Now dripping with sweat… rueing my decision to wear a new t-shirt (to cover and protect the previous day’s sunburn…but in effect further rubbing and irritating it) and puffing like a steam train we managed to make our first pit stop… The view point… And looking down the vast green mountain side before us… you clearly could see the island…the narrow snake of land joining the mighty peak of conception volcano before us…
And thus, falsely inspired by this amazing view and the fanatasies of what may lay ahead at this summit of our own we pressed on… Pressed on through the drizzle. Through the forest of clouds that descended amongst the tangled vines and gnarled roots that consume the forest floor and mark the way for weary travellers to trip on..
Ascended up the relentless incline that squeezed the very breathe from my chest
Trudged on through the onset of drizzle that merely mingled with our already drenched sweaty bodies.
Rested breathlessly, excruciatingly, listening to the marching band of my heart drowning out all other noises as it beat right out of my chest… Still climbing further more… Grappling for grip as the clay beneath us turned to mud, wiping off the mud stained sweat as i stumbled and collided scathingly with the hard earth, Still hanging on to that promise of a crater lake with a view… 2 hours pass, 3 hours pass… still pressing forwards…
And finally, desperately, taking those last few stumbling steps around the summit corner, ready to catch my breath…as it is stolen by a brown murky mud puddle, probably full of leeches!!!!
No view… just trees, rain, mud and a small clustering army of sweaty, dehydrated bodies…. And like all defeated climbers, i too joined the heap of disheartened souls… devoured my now squashed lunch and dreaded the return walk… 4 hours, 6 km and over 1000m elevation gain… in now driving rain on soft mud and clay ground can only mean potential for laurie landslides, further bruises and a few cuts on return…
And thus, still sweaty, still heaving for a full intake of air… i glanced once more at the disappointment of a crater lake.. forwent the opportunity to swim… and commenced the descent… Slipping, stumbling and sliding the whole way down…
listening once more to the incessant thumping of my worn out body, accompanied now by the sorrowful mourns of the howler monkeys as they bark their disdain at our encroaching on their mountain side… Sliding less than gracefully as my now mud caked shoes no longer grip the earth…
Trembling at the raised pincers of the toxic mountain crab that dares block my path…and then subsequently tripping over once more and entangling myself around a tree… Each step an effort, yet a step closer to home. Each step a torturous bolt through a tired body, a further encakement of mud on worn out boots and a reminder of just how unfit i am…
And while yes…there is (as with all climbs) some bizarre sense of accomplishment once one is safely back down… more so the realisation that all we ever really need to know in life…we truly did learn in kindergarten… And while the grand old duke of york did march those men to the top of the hill…what do you think they saw??? Quite simply…just the other side of the mountain…
May your mountain summits be easily reached, wherever in the world you come across them.
Always. L
volcano...sure i'll climb onehow am i going to clean these???a view to inspirethe uninspiring crater lake
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