Exhausting… Definitely not a beginner’s hike and the pack just made it much worse. No blisters though. I can explain in more detail if you have no topic to talk about.
We stayed the first night at Bottom’s Up camp after a 2 and half hour drive. We had arrived at 5 pm and the light was fading quickly. We decided to hike a bit more the next day. I remember watching a stump across the small dam in front of the open cabin that the others had swam. Watching the five fingered stops of the grassy glade whip around it. A stark reminder of a forest that had at one time been fresh and green. I wrote again that night watching the darkness outside as I penned it smoothly. The light went off in the middle of my writing and I slept at 10:30. I had a shaky night waking up at 2:30 am and struggling back to sleep.
I woke up at 5:30 am and we headed out onto the trail at 8. Not long after we had started we encountered an angry nest of wasps. Luckily I was one of the few not stung. As we trekked deeper into the dark green forest the path started steadily sloping. Our packs weighed us down as the slopes became steeper and we hung onto branches to escape falling. We crossed the river and slowly the path descended slightly and rose slightly longer. Eventually after we reached 4 km mark the path became narrower and started climbing and then flattening continuously. Then the real never ending climbing started, exposing us slowly to the 35 degree Celsius Sun. Becoming rocky as we neared the end of our climb, a beautiful view waited in front of us at Glenfield Cliff. We finished the last stretch of our 7,9 km with 2 km of descending down slippery rocks, just a few running steps away from the drop.
Finally having descended and made my way to Rocky Bottom camp I slumped down on my bed and lay there for the next hour and a half, too exhausted to move. Slowly, but surely I managed to force my tender feet up and walk around, trying to avoid the roughness of the ground on some of the softer parts. I sat down to eat my fill and watched the fire bubble away, exaggerating the mid afternoon heat that had only become hotter as we had descended the hill/mountain. Sweating I had scampered off to a bathroom and pulled on my swimming costume, jumping into the dirty water of the river and joining the boys in the cooling refreshing flow. I had spent not even five minutes in before they got and after a quick bit of exploration I too had pulled myself out and slipped my glasses on. Wearing my shirt and towel above my costume, determined to swim again later. I had brought down marshmallows and Oreos and started making a delicious variation of s’mores when I heard the boys calling my name. Slipping the towel down and quickly flicking my top off I had joined them in the water until the sun began to set. The discussion flew and at times my face boiled when they spoke about the more mature side of things, listening more intently to the outraging of beer and vaping one of the Grade 10s had lived, reminding me of my Dad. That night, marshmallows done and cheese grillers grilled we had spoken together, the boys giggling at secret photos hidden away on their phones. Sitting in my bed that night I stared out at the river, bordered by our cabin and yet another cliff, spying out the big rocky crags and whitewash, a tell tale sign of hyrax. The lights had eventually been switched off and the fire sanded and I stared up at the beauty of the stars. Glowing bright in their numbers, undisturbed by the obstructions of civilisation.
