Climbing Mt. Cameroon: Day 3

We woke up impossibly sore. Our hobbling to the latrine was truly comical. However, after putting up with Peter's impatience the day before, I was determined that we were going to complete the last leg of the trip (another 12-13km mostly through rain forest) in half the time (9 hours) he predicted. (As you all well know, I am rather competitive and there was no way a man was going to tell me again that at our 'girl pace' we were slower than other groups.) Given this, at 7:30am we set out from our campsite, doing 10 minutes in the woods around the spring and going into the savana, just as yellow/brown and barren as the day before but blessedly not as windy. Once my legs became more limber than the concrete blocks they started the day as, I was practically jogging through, although the trail was still difficult. Over the rolling hills, the soil of the savana was like gravel and the path so narrow that my foot barely fit on it, so it was like walking a rocky tightrope and trying not to fall off a mountain at the same time. (I forgot to mention that a couple hours into day 1 a strap on my backpack broke so I had it slung across my body and the heaviness of the water severely affected my balance, which made me even more wobbly during this part.)

After 45 minutes of this (Peter predicted almost 2 hours) we hit the rainforest. Serious dense, jungle-y rainforest. It was almost primordial, with huge ferns and a canopy so dense that it was hard to see through the darkness. Just our luck, it had rained the night before, making the steep descent even harder, with us slipping all over the place thanks to the wet leaves which made up the path and the dense underbrush hiding loose branches for us to trip over. During our 2.5 hours in the forest we met our first non-trekker, a crazy local hunter on his way to the spring. Once he found out that we were Danish and American he started shouting 'You are rich! You are rich! Your father is a rich man!', which reflects the mentality of many people here.

Sweating bullets from the heat and humidy, we were so happy to come into the 'farmlands', a less dense green forest with scattered areas for growing yams, cassava and manioc, none of which is done in the style we think of for growing crops- neat rows of plants. Instead this was just free growing plants that a family, or group of families, would harvest when the need arose.

By this time we were salivating at the though of paved roads, showers, and being in our own beds. (And I was mentally preparing a list of complaints about Peter.) And so we were again jogging to the finish line, which was pretty admirable given not only our exhaustion and soreness but Sophie's sprained ankle. We three, along with the Cameroonian girl, we all jumping for joy (and then cringing as our knees hurt upon coming back down) when we finally got to paved roads, and even the porters seemed overjoyed to be home. Getting in the taxi to go back to the office was like riding in a car for the first time- the idea of moving while not walking was earth-shattering. Oh, and we did the supposed 9 hour trek in less than 5 hours, which even Peter had to conceed was a record, not just for girls but for all his climbers.

Back in the office we logged an official complaint about Peter and then tipped the porters and other guide. (The Danish girls had a hard time w/ the tipping- apparently its just not done in Scandinavia.) We then took a cab back down the hill to our place in Molyko (our neighborhood in Buea). Apparently everyone in town noticed our arrival, probably due to our truly disgusting (and smelly) appearance and loud groaning as we stood up again. Walking the 250 meters back to our house was probably the most painful walk of my life, especially when I realized how badly my left shoulder hurt from carrying 20lbs on it all day for three days. The water was still not running when we got home, but our roommates agreed that a shower was extremely necessary and that was probably the best bucket shower of my entire life.

As we hobbled like old/pregnant women over to the Orock's for lunch, the three of us took a moment to look up at the mountain. Most of the time you hardly notice its there, as its often covered by the clouds, but today the sun was shining and you could see the top ridge. It was only then that the sense of achievement we had expected to feel at the summit finally hit us, and we felt proud of what we had accomplished. Even now, a week later, I look at the mountain and am mystified as to just how we managed to get all the way up there. So even though it was one of the most physically demanding experiences of my life (and I dont think I've cursed more in three days before), climbing Mt. Cameroon was also one of the most rewarding and fulfilling things I've ever done.

However, you can be damn sure I'm not doing it again any time soon.