The top-down approach to mountaineering

I love to watch the sunrise on the peaks in Africa. I also like to try everything at least once – so when I was given the opportunity to experience a sunset on an African mountain in a helicopter – I grabbed it! I was more than comfortable watching the Magaliesberg Mountains out of a helicopter. Once the experienced pilot landed on top of the mountain, we had a sundowner whilst watching the thunderstorms building in the east and the sunset in the west.

It was an awesome experience, but I am not sure if it will replace the peace and tranquillity of walking in the mountains and it will not replace the experience of being afforded the opportunity to climb to a high point and soak up the views.

I did discuss the possibility of tying a bungee cord to his helicopter and jumping to the highest peak in Equatorial Guinea with the pilot, but he did not seemed too impressed.  Alan, my travel partners reply to my bright idea was “the chances of you getting shot trying to get to the highest peak in a helicopter is 100% better than you getting arrested while sneaking up to the highest point on foot, especially since it is in a military zone”.

Opening of Sommer Pass

Over the long weekend I have been privileged to be part of the following activities:

We….

·         stumbled across a lot of little dagga plants covering the hillsides where previous convoys of dagga smugglers must have dropped some going down the passes.

·         witnessed two Basotho hunters and their seven dogs chasing up and down hills chasing baboons

·         fixed one of the dog legs who was bitten by the baboon with duct tape.  This was not the only thing fixed with duct tape, this included hiking boots and my pants after they failed during a fall and I was demoted to the back of the hike!

·         cleaned Easter cave

·         overcame some silly fear of falling down cliffs by climbing to some unknown “kulu”

·         followed our fearless guide (not without reservation, I am getting too old for this!) and opened a new pass 

·         admired the millions of stars in the sky

·         tried to overcome our fears and hold our breaths while we watched what we presumed to be smugglers with torches passing our tents at 22h00 and after crossing the river, moving away from us.

·         woke up with the magnificent view of the Berg in front of us

·         started our last day’s hike with a fantastic uphill where I was overcome with gratitude filling me because I am so lucky to witness such splendour where it was either the birds or the beetles singing.

·         picked up litter left by ignorant people to show our gratitude

·         Met lovely locals along the way

·         missed our ride back to the Mweni Village and was given a last opportunity to walk an extra 5 km clearing our minds from the rat race

 Giving the pass just opened a name came easy. It was either:

·         “I am getting too old for this pass” OR

·         Sommer pass

·         Sommer (in Afrikaans means because), because we respect the opportunities we get to see the Drakensberg’s splendour and appreciate it

·         Sommer – dedicated to a wonderful friend who loves the Drakensberg with a passion and who is making this passion contagious.

Strengthening the boots with duct tape - before the hike!

Ian healing the dog's leg after it was bitten by a baboon

Getting to the top of a Kulu

Our descent into the unknown!

Some of the village kids with the litter brought down
from the mountain

A dagga plant, a dead Cape Vulture and Barbed wire
in a kraal?

The Basotho hunters with their 7 dogs

Another purpose for duct tape. My mom won't be able
to fix this one! Bummer!

After more than a year - I'm off to the Berg again!

I forgot all about how to pack, but since Chris is taking care of the first aid kit and all the life saving equipment, I just have to make sure I take my Sudoko, pencil and The Dream Giver!

Instead of going up the unknown Nguza pass, we are going to go up another one - but plans might change, so for now, I am just too happy to go along. It has been too long. Way too long. 

International Mountain Day

At least 50% of our world’s population depends on water that comes from our beautiful mountains.

Climate Change has had a devastating impact on our mountains and mountain regions as we have had abnormal warming over the past few years.

Because we have taken on the job of protecting our beautiful mountains, Sunrise on Africa’s Peaks (SOAP), SOAPkidz and the SOAPdogz attended the International Mountain day rally to the Magaliesberg with the Mountain Club of South Africa (MCSA) Magaliesberg Section in Pretoria.

The SOAPdogz enjoyed themselves thoroughly and after spending some hours on the mountain, I was, for once in my life, not woken up by the SOAPdogz before 06h00, which just shows how great the mountains are for one’s health.
 

Making the posters

Almost on top of the mountain

People and dogs working together to save our mountains

A very tired protester after a splendid day on the mountains

 

Liberia

30 June: Despite the fact that I was once again crippled by fear of the unknown, the hike to the Liberian border after visiting the highest peak in Guinea Connokry, was not totally unpleasant. A Motorbike ride to Yekepa was followed by a taxi ride to Ghanta, where we waited patiently for the taxi to fill up, while I read Eckardt Tolls’ ‘The New Earth’

Suddenly, just before we left, I got the message in the book. The bumpy ride was pure magic. The trees were beautiful, there were fire flies all along the way and I was just happy, sitting with a huge grin on my face. 6 Hours later, at 22h30, we arrived in Zorzor, covered in dust.

 

Letter from the Superintendent

1 July: I slept like a baby. Although the toilet was past disgusting, all was well in Africa. Our taxi driver from Ghanta, helped us to find a taxi to Voinjama. When the driver asked for $100, everyone burst out laughing. We paid $20 in the end for the 70 km ride. I was still worried about food, but so far, people have always taken care of us.  

Once in Voinjama, we were taken to a guest house, before being sent to the Superintendent, who told us to come back the next morning. We could not go anywhere without his permission. Luckily, the sun came out and we could air our clothes. We discussed the possibility of changing our ticket dates since it was taking longer than we expected.

Bridge to Lisco

2 July: I slept once again like a baby, and the visit to the Superintendent turned out to be quite pleasant. He arranged a recommendation letter and a chartered vehicle for us. I also located some food and we all had a coffee with condensmilk before setting off on our journey.

The new road to Lisco was build by the Texan company and to my horror I noticed the felled trees along the way. The tears just streamed down my cheeks. It felt as if my limbs were being torn from my body. I was warned by Al to keep quiet about the trees.  

We finally arrived in Lisco at 14h00 where the Chief offered us food: rice and bush meat. Trying not to offend anyone, I tried to eat the rice without touching the meat. Afterwards we went for a walk with the Chiefs father, an adorable character that has traveled extensively. I was feeling nauseous and couldn’t believe I was so stupid to eat something my body is not used to. I could just picture myself trying to get up the mountain the next morning.

Bushmeat? NEVER EVER AGAIN!

It looked like it could rain so we slept in the principal’s office in the school. Taking a stroll that night turned into another magical experience. The skies were lined with millions of stars and there were fireflies everywhere.

3 July: It has started to rain during the evening. We were ready at 6h00, expecting 2 guides, a rough forest hike then an elephant path through the savannah to the top. By 7h30, we had 3 smiling guides with guns and pangas and 1 very reluctant grumpy guide, complaining about no breakfast. The whole village knew we were coming to the mountain and expected us a day before. But the 4 guides were only informed at 7h00. They carried no food or water.

The team on top of the mountain

A 2 hour trek followed in the forest and then the big surprise. No savannah. No elephant path. Only shrub. 4 Hours of panga swinging followed. Suddenly I was told we were on top. There was no flat top, just more bush. The next moment the sun came out, the mist cleared and they started chopping down a tree (for the view). Noooooooo! I shouted. Luckily they stopped. I was so happy I have bought food and they were happy to get food. Everyone was happy. They posed for a picture with their guns and the South African Flag. Then it was time to go down. The descent to the forest took 1 hour, the wag 'n bietjie digging into my skin. Then the descent through the forest followed where I felt like Jane, swinging from one branch to another, running down trying to keep up with the guys. At the village, we were treated as heroes. My scars were admired. The walk to the Chief was full of jokes and I felt so at peace.

A similar welcome followed and my scars were once again admired. We were given food (which I declined gently) and then I showed them the pictures. Our driver was happy. The chief was happy, the chief’s wife was happy. When we left, it started to rain. Everyone was happy

Once again I have been privileged to see a beautiful mountain.

• I have picked up 7 empty gun shells on the mountain.
• A helicopter was hovering around, exploring the mountain for iron ore.
• The Texan company has built the road to Lisco to a saw mill and the magnificent trees are being chopped down.

The Liberians are so grateful that people are keen to invest in their land. They are all educated but there are no jobs.

I have been privileged to experience the energy of the forest and the magnificent mountain. I can just pray that who ever does the mining and logging of the trees does it responsibly. Deep down I have a feeling my grandchildren will not be privilege to see what I have seen.

I did not cry again on my way back.

4 July. Our taxi driver was quite aggressive with a music system that didn’t leave too much space for passengers. 5 km into the ride, he stopped and disappeared into the bushes. He returned a happy chappy, reeking of dagga. Music blared all the way to Foya, where motorbikes were our only option to Sierra Leone, so off we went.

7 km down the road, Alan’s driver had an accident and we ended up in the village with a flat tire. They tried to fix it by tying a knot in it. When it didn’t work, my driver jumped on another motorbike and disappeared.  10 minutes later, he was back. We didn’t ask any questions. 2 km further we swapped drivers. Apparently the one motorbike had no brakes. So we were stuck with 1 motorbike with no brakes and the worst driver I have met.

Alan got the good driver on the motorbike with no brakes while I climbed behind the worst driver I have met. 2 km further, I insisted on getting off the bike. He was really bad. It was decided that the bad driver would take the luggage while the two of us will go with the motorbike with no brakes. The road was extremely slippery but I felt 100% safer.

Another bridge to cross

At the border, we were informed by the immigration officers that they didn’t have a stamp. I lost it. First of all, we were convinced we have been overcharged the last couple of days. We have been asked for gifts by just about everyone. Time to get to Senegal was running out. We had no food or water with us. I was petrified to travel anywhere with our bad driver. The problem was solved when Alan went with our good driver to get a stamp at another border post, getting away with only two falls while I tried to ignore all the subtle and not so subtle hints for money.

Once at the other border post, Al’s driver tried to convince him to have both our passports stamped, pretending that I was around before illegally slipping back. Alan refused. The only option then was to pay for an immigration officer to come and stamp our passports where I was waiting. Upon arrival, Al asked if I was feeling strong. I replied: “I can’t deal with this money anymore”. Apparently he felt like crying as well. 2 km to the Sierra Leone border followed. It has been a long journey, and a very long day.



Happy child fetching water



Guinea Conokry

28 June: It was Guinea Conakry’s general elections the previous day and unsure about the stability of the country, we decided to take only the bare necessities with us. 

It was a short ride on motorbikes to the border, where we ignored any gift requests.

The border officials in Solo took forever to write our passport details down, but for once I was living in the now and just enjoyed the light rain outside.



We were banned from using the path on the mine

A slightly uncomfortable bike ride to Gbakore to pick up the permits followed.  Our drivers stopped at the entrance of a mine, and we were told to ask the South African guy for permission.  We were more than surprised when not one, but two South Africans arrived twenty minutes later.  We were taken to the empty conservation office, where we were advised to go back to Selinbala for a guide and accommodation before climbing the mountain.  Nothing was said about the permits.  

It was my turn to sing “Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me”, when we were invited for lunch at the mine.  Between Alan and I, we had 2 dry rolls and 1 liter of water with us.  Once again, there was no place to buy any food.  After 82 days in West Africa, my body was craving vitamins and whatever else it needed.

When Alan, as usual, held out his plate for my meat/chicken/fish, he got a nasty surprise!  I had convinced myself that the chicken was free range – and would have eaten his chicken kebab as well.  My strawberry fanta tin was also empty, he just stared at me in surprise.  I wanted to kiss David, the South African who offered us the meal!

Looking for transport back to Selinbala could have turned out to be a problem but Al said we must go with the flow.  Yes, but what if we hit the waterfall, I replied!  20 Minutes later we were on our way to Selinbala, once again thanks to David.

Once in Selingbala, our driver arranged a guide and we were taken to the guesthouse.  The mist has lifted and going for a hike, we discovered just how big a distance we had hiked the previous day.  My blisters were acting up but as the Nimba range was so spectacular, it was definitely worth it!

We entertained the village children by taking their pictures and videos and then I cried on Alan’s shoulder.

• My hair was past dry and had turned grey,
• Thousands of wrinkles have sprung up on my face,
• My insects bites were festering,
• I have lost too much weight and my pants were falling off me,
• My boob size has shrunken to a size AA,
• I’ve just eaten a chicken!

Entertaining the village children

My future was clear – I would remain single for the rest of my life.

When Al mentioned that I could always obtain a certain electrical device to help me with one of the negative sides of being single, my crying turned hysterical.

That evening - peace reigned in the village.  Singing and storytelling could be heard and I guess because of all the crying, I drifted into a peaceful sleep.

29 June. 02h00. It is pouring outside and I can just imagine us hiking in the rain, blisters popping. I try to be positive, 12 hilly hiking hours lay ahead.  We had 2 dry rolls and 1 liter of water.

03h30: I am fully awake.

06h00: The rain has stopped.  We have two guides and a magical experience followed.  The 3 hour steep uphill through the forest was followed by a 2 hours steep hike through the savannah.  One of our guides got sick so luckily we only had to share the two dry buns with one other person.  Once on top of Sir Richard Molard, the mist lifted and we had a spectacular view.  It was magical with clouds 50 meter below us.  The descent was just as spectacular.



Flowers on top of the mountain

I started to plan ahead.  Since it took us 2 less hours to do the hike, we could make it back to the Liberian border in time.  Al complained that I was back to rushing ahead.  The truth hit me head on: throughout my life, I’ve never been satisfied with what I have achieved.   As soon as I get to the top of a mountain, I am off again – rushing to the next mountain.

After paying our respects to the chief, we rushed to the guesthouse, just to be stopped by the ECO Guide, who demanded to see our permit.  Since we had no permit, we had to accompany him to his office. I had no idea if his office was 2 or 30 km away.  I tried to stay calm, feeling the seconds ticking past.  At his office (only 2 km away), I page through a book while Al handled the political aspects.

All of a sudden, a woman was brought in and she showed me her cancer riddled breast.  It was grotesque and left me speechless.  When I looked in her eyes, I stared into nothingness. The Eco Guide then explained that he used plants to cure the sick people who came all the way from Conakry.  I was then asked to take pictures of another patient, covered with bleeding sores.  I had no idea why I had to be there but felt somehow, connected.  



On top of Sir Richard Molard

After taking a picture of the ECO Guide (and paying the 50 000 L) he escorted us back to the village, where he gave us some leaves to enhance our appetite (just our luck with no food in sight).  If we could find a motorbike to take us to the border, we could still make it.  But there was no motorbike or villager in sight, and I suspect it had something to do with the permits.

I finally made peace with the idea of spending another night in Guinea Conakry.  After the 21 km hike, I was starving.  Al asked our host for food, and expecting cow belly and intestines, I was overjoyed when two big plates of rice and maggie was placed in front of us.

30 June: I was once again being crippled by fear of the unknown.  The hike to the Liberian border was not totally unpleasant.

With the guide on top op Guinea Conocry's highest mountain

Liberia - The Nimba Range

23 June: We were finally in Liberia. It was raining, I was bloated and all my insect bites were festering. But all was still well in Africa. The guys at the Liberian border were so excited about the world cup soccer; they forgot to ask for any bribes. (Unfortunately, I was informed by Alan six months later that it was not the case). The pastor and two fellow passengers (one turned out to be a policeman who decided to take care of us) decided to stick with us and we all chartered a vehicle to Monrovia. The policeman’s presence turned out to be a miracle. At every police post (and there were several), the pastor and her fellow passengers sang "happy birthday to me" and clapped hands. Apparently, they would have to pay money at every stop if the policeman was not traveling with us. It was a joyous ride in the rain.

Once in Monrovia, the police captain took us to an expensive hotel, but we convinced him to take us to a cheaper one. He was worried about our safety so we compromised and ended in a hotel with security for $80 per night. Considering that we paid $5 in the brothel the previous night, it was quite a blow to our budget, but it promised 24 hour electricity and running hot and cold water etc. I was happy to pay the money. The rain has not stopped for a second.

24 June: Waiting for our Sierra Leone visas, we thoroughly enjoyed the hotel with it’s TV and hot running water while it rained outside. Although the streets were filled with UN people, we were not so sure about our safety, and didn’t want to venture out too far. Since we were already over our budget, we splurged some more by drinking beer at their restaurant.

25 June: I woke up startled at 03h00, heart throbbing. Aha, so this is what a panic attack feels like, I mumbled. Nine days ago, in crazy Freetown, I received an e-mail from Camelman III, informing me that he was seeing someone else. For nine days, I have tried to block out the pain and fear. But all my fears have finally caught up with me. During the next 3 hours, I died several times, reliving every painful memory.

When Alan stirred at 06h00, I shouted “I NEED HELP AL”

Since breakfast was included in the $80 per room deal, I had to wait another two hours. On our way into Monrovia, I have noticed a bookshop. I needed help desperately.

I found the bookshop, and although it only had 20 different books, two of them were “Dale Carnagees “How to stop worrying and start living” and Eckardt Tolls “The New Earth”. For four years, I have tried in vain to read Eckardt Toll’s “The power of now”, but I was going crazy and I had to try and stop the pain.

“IT-IS-$40”, Alan hissed when we walked out the bookstore:

“I – NEED -IT”, I croaked back. “No one has bought me a birthday present”. I could not stop crying.

To add oil to the fire, I had more beer that evening.

26 June: Our bookstore guy was so grateful I bought 2 books from him, he picked us up at the hotel and took us to the red district, where we got a taxi to Yekepa. We had to share the back seat with two rather fat people so we both had exactly 2 cm to sit on. We were warned about motorcycle guys dragging you into the bushes so we didn't venture too far once we finally arrived in Yekepa. We expected a big town and food. Unfortunately, the only food we could find was popcorn and peanuts. No water. By now, our insect bites were really festering and everywhere remarks could be heard about “Whites not surviving Africa”. 



On our way to the highest point on the Nimba Range

27 June: Our room could not lock and people kept on shouting throughout the evening. Add that to the numerous warnings about being kidnapped and it makes sense that we ended up slightly paranoid.

For security reasons, the Liberian chapter was left out of our Rough guide so we had no clue where to hike to but our host came to our rescue. Following his advice, we set off for the highest peak in Liberia in the Nimba range. We had 2 liter of water with us and a dry bun. Luckily it was misty, because we couldn’t see the top. 

Mr Agrawal, Alan, myelf and Ian, the South African
we met on the Nimba Range



We took our first tower reading at 10h30. Another tower followed and then we got to the third tower. A 4X4 has just passed us earlier and what a great surprise to meet a fellow South African on top. Ian has just started working in Liberia and was just visiting Yekepa. His colleague gave us some Indian snacks and juice (heaven since we have devoured our dry bun) and invited us for supper. They told us we could just follow the road and we'll get back. Two hours later we have come to a dead end and had to backtrack. After our 33 km hike, we got back to the guesthouse just in time for a quick wash before being picked up for our meal at 18h30.

A lovely evening followed where I had the best meal of my life. Phillip, the chef surprised us with home made samooses and vegetarian dishes and I did not hesitate to ask for seconds.

28 June: It was Guinea Conakry’s general elections the previous day and unsure about the stability of the country, we have decided to take only the bare necessities with. A short ride on motorbikes to the border followed where we ignored any gift requests.



Another mountain destroyed by mining