I really enjoy hiking. So, I guess I’m lucky that it’s part of my job here! Didn’t stop me from dreading leaving last Saturday for the 20+ km hike ahead of me… I was mostly dreading it because of the time of day we ended up leaving: 2pm, the hottest part of the day. I pack two small water bottles of water, but that doesn’t last long in the heat of the day when you are hiking over the steep and dusty land. The air here is so dry! 40% humidity is considered rather high.
The hike itself is one I’ve already made a few times. The valley I was heading for is part of the SIBE (or Site of Ecological Importance… only in French with something that ‘B’ stands for…) that is a focus of my placement here. Environmental volunteers are supposed to help with the preservation/conservation/elucidation of purpose for these SIBE’s. So I know this path. I know the first sharp climb, the slow rise of the plateau to the gulley that cuts steeply through the bowl of high mountains and providing a steep and exposed path up to the high face of the mountain. I know the turn around the shoulder of the mountain, and the three scalloped valleys the path cuts across, and I know the long descent through the sparse forest into the grazing grounds on the other side. Really it’s only 10 km away, as the crow flies, and I know that’s really not that far. I also knew I wasn’t in quite as good a shape as one might hope if one was trying to keep up with your sheepherder escort… in the heat of the day.
He set a very reasonable pace for me though. And we stopped to rest at the water cistern at the top of the plateau, and wonder of wonders, there was a mule coming up the path behind us. We gratefully threw our backpacks into its carry-basket and joined the two girls who had been riding it. They got off for the passage of the gully. It’s steep and exposed, yes, but also the footing is bad. All sliding rocks and gravel and dust and sharp turns in tricky spots. If your mule goes down (and they do sometimes) it’s best not to be on them if they slide of the path and down the mountain a bit. We made the passage uneventfully, and I began my arguments with my sheepherder guide. He wanted me to ride the mule, and was unwilling to take the place of the two young girls who were having a harder time keeping up with him than I. I did give in for a bit, but that was (in that moment anyway) less about being tired and more about enjoying riding something vaguely horselike.
We made the decent through the trees, and left the girls and their mule at their families tent, and made our way across the valley. I was practically running to keep up with my shepherd. And then we turned with the path. Up. Straight up, for a final mile and a half (a couple of km) at about a 25% to 30% grade. It felt like 45%, I swear! After 4 hours of hiking, riding, and trying to keep up I was TIRED. For some reason, my hip flexors seemed to be taking the entirety of the load, because the rest of my legs were only mildly tired. It hurt to lift my legs, though, and so I just kept on, step by step. Counting the boulders as we passed them till we finally came to our destination: the tent of the president of an association I work. There I dropped my bag on the floor and collapsed, exhausted. It was all I could do not to lie down right there, but I knew that would inspire worried words… as it was they were exhorting me not to die. Which I was nowhere near doing, for the record. I have had a much harder time breathing after many a track sprint workout, thank you!
On the way back, GPS information gathered, I made the hike by myself. I enjoyed it, stopping in the shade, looking about me to really enjoy the sweeping vistas obscured only by the summer heat haze, and even taking pictures like a tourist! I veered off the path to look at a big cap of rock and enjoy the view. And I still made the hike in just over 4 1/2 hours. Which was about how much time it had taken me and the shepherd the day before. This time, though, I wasn’t exhausted. I even had enough energy to dance at the final stage of my neighbor’s wedding!
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