Wednesday, August 22, 2012

Lost and Loopy in the Wild: Conquering(?) Chirikayén Tepui


Moriche, a common Gran Sabana fruit that grows on palm trees, Chirikayén, 6 August 2012  
Omar, beginning the journey to Chirikayén Tepui, 6 August 2012
            On Monday (6 Aug), Omar and I began our Chirikayén Tepui trek with a leisurely start around 10:30 am.  At first, we walked through long stretches of mostly flat savannah, which Omar set afire a couple of times – an indigenous custom meant to signal our presence to others, but which is also sometimes a for-the-hell-of-it sort of pastime…
Burning savannah (compliments of Omar) + Chirikayén Tepui, 6 August 2012
            We later meandered through a couple of damp selbas (forests) permeated by  tucan whistles, which you can hear here.  After a few hours of unrushed hiking, we reached Warawaramerú Falls, and while crossing the river further upstream, I of course leapt from one rock to another, slipped, and fell in, avoiding injury but completely soaking my jeans in the icy cold water. 
Next, around 1 pm, we ate lunch near the falls under a techo (“roof,” but in this case, small pavilion, which Omar’s brother built) with an incredible view of the tepui.  Soon after, we walked through another selba, where Omar grabbed a couple of tall sticks for us to (1) help balance ourselves during the upcoming subida (climb) and (2) help hold up the large sheet of plastic he draped over our not waterproof tent at night.
Warawaramerú Falls (techo (“roof,” but in this case, small pavilion) on the left) near Chirikayén Tepui, 6 August 2012
View of Chirikayén Tepui from Warawaramerú Falls (techo (“roof,” but in this case, small pavilion) on the left), 6 August 2012
Getting closer! Chirikayén Tepui, 6 August 2012
La selba (the forest) on the way to Chirikayén Tepui, 6 August 2012
We then made our way along the grassy cordillera to the right of the tepui and eventually started ascending the steeper, rockier part around 4 pm, with about two more hours of daylight to go. Occasionally, while I was gradually ascending, repeatedly stopping to take pictures, Omar disappeared on the path ahead of me.  I didn’t mind, really, but unfortunately, eventually, I lost the path itself, as well…
La cordillera near the base of Chirikayén Tepui, 6 August 2012
Chirikayén Tepui (center) + la cordillera (right), 6 August 2012  
View of/from la cordillera on the way up Chirikayén Tepui, 6 August 2012  
Omar hiking la cordillera on the way up Chirikayén Tepui, 6 August 2012  
Omar hiking la cordillera on the way up Chirikayén Tepui, 6 August 2012  
View of/from la cordillera on the way up Chirikayén Tepui, 6 August 2012  
View of/from la cordillera on the way up Chirikayén Tepui, 6 August 2012  
View of the savannah (note the smoky, burning part, compliments of Omar) from la cordillera on the way up Chirikayén Tepui, 6 August 2012
Even closer! Chirikayén Tepui, 6 August 2012
The beginnings of the sunset, on the way up Chirikayén Tepui, 6 August 2012  
Omar, a little before I lost him, on the way up Chirikayén Tepui, 6 August 2012
At that point, I figured, instead of waiting for Omar to turn back and find me, I’d find my own way up the tepui for a while, since I knew the sun would be setting soon.  However, after a bit of solo-trekking, not only was the sunlight really starting to dim, but also, a large, white cloud began to move in and envelop the whole tepui, preventing my voice from echoing (I’d already been yelling Omar’s name, feeling a bit worried that I might slip and fall like some guideless tourist he’d told me about earlier that day…) and my eyes from seeing where the hell I was going.
Solo-climbing, on the way up Chirikayén Tepui, 6 August 2012
I was more than a little concerned, but figured there was no way to go but up.  I found it quite difficult to actually ascend, since most of the paths I scoured out were overly long (and rather low-incline) switchbacks, so I was making more horizontal progress than vertical.   It got to the point that there was so much fog, and I was on such a steep incline, that I was a little scared for my life, what with my heavy bag, tired legs, and the gradually enveloping fog and darkness, all weighing me down.
Thankfully, however, before we left town that morning, on my behalf, my host dad, Federico, asked around and found a headlamp for me to use on the trek (since mine had stopped working).  Ultimately, it saved me from having a heart attack when I found myself all alone on the side of the tepui; without it, I’m not sure I would’ve made it to the top…
Things didn’t go perfectly smoothly, though.  At one point, the headlamp slipped off my head and almost broke, and I banged the hell out of my previously injured knee (bike accident) twice within a matter of minutes.  By then, I had begun to really climb, 30-pound pack and all, like I hadn’t climbed in years.
In reality, the handholds were mostly quite good; the problem was the ever-growing fog, which not only made me feel like some sort of solitary, medieval knight wandering through the wilderness in search of the Holy Grail or the like (couldn’t help but think about that at the time…), but also would’ve been the death of me if I hadn’t kept my head on straight and tested each damp, slippery step before giving it my full body weight. 
By the end, I had to abandon my trusty walking stick and utilize pure body strength and willpower to heave myself to the top of the tepui, which, once I reached it, it seemed like another planet – a dimly lit and foggy expanse of strange, yellow, tubular flowers growing among bunches of tall grass and large, damp, gray stones.  I waited with baited breath for a group of human-sized apes to suddenly appear, seize me, and bring me to their lair…
Recognizing that I had food, water (and purification tablets), relatively no injuries, and flat ground under my feet again, I realized that I had next to nothing to worry about, aside from the pending rain and rampant puri puri, so I really wasn’t too worried but in a rather good mood.  I had already started calling Omar’s name when things started looking gritty on the side of the mountain and continued to do so as I explored the top a bit.  In the pitch black, I searched hopelessly, first for the path for half an hour, and ultimately, for just a flat spot where I could lie down! 
After about ten minutes of that, I happened to look behind me and see the tiny light of a headlamp in the distance.  Turns out, it was Omar, who’d been running around calling my name, on the brink of crying, thinking I’d been kidnapped by canaimas (spirits or men who hide and wait for someone to beat up and/or kill, just for the hell of it, according to Pemón legend), and planning on calling Geder and everyone from the community to come help him find me, for an hour and a half. 
Upon reuniting, we set up camp, had dinner, and went to sleep around 9; unfortunately, I had bad dreams that night, and we couldn’t leave the tent until about twelve hours later, once the morning rain had stopped…
The second two days of the trip were comparatively much calmer than the first.  We spent Day 2 (Tuesday, 7 August) pleasantly wandering around the top of the tepui, constantly searching for less cloudy views.  That morning, I realized that at one point on Monday night, before we found each other, I had been standing only twenty feet or so away from Omar’s bag, which was totally hidden by the fog, so I had no idea at the time.  We found each other about half an hour later.
View from the top of Chirikayén Tepui, 7 August 2012
The odd yellow flowers I encountered after solo-climbing, Chirikayén Tepui, 7 August 2012  
View from the top of Chirikayén Tepui, 7 August 2012
Throughout the day, in order to reach certain viewpoints, Omar sometimes used his machete to carve out walking paths through the colorful tangle of wild bushes, trees, and stones.  Although most of the time we could see nothing but a wall of thick, white clouds encasing the entire tepui, in the afternoon, we were lucky to see some very beautiful views of the surrounding, seemingly never-ending, blue-green landscapes of the Gran Sabana.
Omar, atop Chirikayén Tepui, 7 August 2012
One of the many peculiar plants atop Chirikayén Tepui, 7 August 2012
Another unfamiliar flower atop Chirikayén Tepui, 7 August 2012
The foggy view from Chirikayén Tepui, 7 August 2012
The foggy view from Chirikayén Tepui, 7 August 2012
The foggy view from Chirikayén Tepui, 7 August 2012
Omar and his machete, atop Chirikayén Tepui, 7 August 2012
Yet another strange flower atop Chirikayén Tepui, 7 August 2012
Note how the fog comes…
…and goes (20 minutes later), Chirikayén Tepui, 7 August 2012
The view from atop Chirikayén Tepui, 7 August 2012
The view from atop Chirikayén Tepui, 7 August 2012
The view from atop Chirikayén Tepui, águila (‘eagle,’ but really a hawk) included, 7 August 2012
The view from atop Chirikayén Tepui, águila (‘eagle,’ but really a hawk) included, 7 August 2012
The view from atop Chirikayén Tepui, 7 August 2012
Afterward, we packed up and moved camp to a site with a better view than our original spot, built a fire, cooked dinner, and tried to sleep, which wasn’t so easy with the torrential downpour, plus extra-tiny puri puri biting our necks, faces, and hands, all night.
While moving camp, I paused to gaze at this rainbow! Chirikayén Tepui, 7 August 2012
On the final day of the trek (Wednesday, 8 August), we couldn’t leave the tent until about 9:30 am, when the rain finally stopped.  It was too foggy and drizzly to see much during breakfast, and the clouds only broke around 12:30, so we didn’t start descending until about 1:30 pm, since neither of us wanted to leave without seeing the view for which we’d traveled so far to enjoy.
A sickly caterpillar Omar found, Chirikayén Tepui, 8 August 2012
Omar cooking rice, onions, and sardines for brunch at camp after the 12-hour downpour, Chirikayén Tepui, 8 August 2012
View from the top of Chirikayén Tepui, 8 August 2012
Thankfully, my knee and hip didn’t bother me at all during the sunny yet breezy descent (my face was quite red and my lips a bit swollen the next day :/, and of course I slipped and fell a couple of times on the damp, rocky, steep parts).  We had really beautiful views of the savannah and tepui, and saw the sun set near Warawaramerú Falls
The rocky part where I, believe it or not, lost the path the first day… on the way down from Chirikayén Tepui, 8 August 2012
The view from the way down from Chirikayén Tepui, 8 August 2012  
The view from the way down from Chirikayén Tepui, 8 August 2012  
Omar in la cordillera on the way down from Chirikayén Tepui, 8 August 2012  
View of Chirikayén Tepui on the way home, 8 August 2012  
Omar in la cordillera on the way down from Chirikayén Tepui, 8 August 2012  
Omar in la cordillera on the way down from Chirikayén Tepui, 8 August 2012  
The view from the way down from Chirikayén Tepui, 8 August 2012
The view from the way down from Chirikayén Tepui, 8 August 2012
The view from the way back from Chirikayén Tepui, 8 August 2012  
Warawaramerú Falls at sunset, on the way back from Chirikayén Tepui, 8 August 2012
Warawaramerú Falls at sunset, on the way back from Chirikayén Tepui, 8 August 2012  
Chirikayén Tepui, pink at sunset, 8 August 2012
The last bit of daylight on the way back from Chirikayén Tepui, 8 August 2012
It wasn’t until about six hours in that the hike became a little annoying and at times nerve-racking due to darkness and heavy rain.  For an hour and a half, I trudged in my soaking-wet hiking boots through the slippery, muddy savannah and forests, including several slick, single-log, rail-less ‘bridges,’ the last of which was suspended about twenty feet over a rather abysmal-looking waterway.  Eventually, we returned to town around 9 pm, at which point Maira thankfully let me use her shower to recuperate from my unforgettable three-day trek…
In the end, despite how many hiccups we had along the way, my hike to Chirikayén Tepui was probably my most incredible experience in Venezuela!  In fact, ultimately, the sometimes extra-challenging nature of the trip was what made both the views and the laughs all the more satisfying and memorable.  And now, with just a couple more days in-country, I’m rather sad to be nearing my departure…  More stories to come soon!

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