We are sooooooo powerful

(written by: Michael)

Perhaps we had a bit too much fun in Limbe, because waking up at 6AM as planned proved quite difficult. Of course, Vijay waking us up in the middle of the night and insisting that we go to our own hotel room (we ALREADY were in our own hotel room of course) didn’t help either. After a few expletives from Joel for having the gall to wake him up so early, we headed on our way, only about 30 min late. We had confirmed with several people the day before that the taxi to Buea, where the hike would start, should be $1000 a person. We stopped 4 different taxis and the cheapest any would go was $3000 per person. When we insisted on 1000 per person they told us to go to 1/2 mile and then offered us a ride there for 200 each. Deciding instead to walk to 1/2 mile (which we accurately guessed was 1/2 mile away) we spoke to a few other taxis, finally settling on 5000 ($12) for all of us. So we packed in the tiny car and started the 1000m assent to Buea, only to stop at what seemed like a random market 2 minutes later. This is a common occurrence here, taxi drivers running errands in the middle of a trip. It turned out though that he had to pay some fee for taking tourists to Buea, so he paid it and we continued. We passed a police checkpoint and was surprised to be pulled over. We were asked for our passports, which none of us had because we were not planning to leave the country and didn’t want to lose them in another car accident. The army officer seemed quite perplexed and continued to ask how we could possibly travel without any documents. I decided to get out and talk with him about our plans to hike the mountain, asking him if he had ever done it. After about 5 minutes, he decided to let us go on our way. We finally arrived in Buea, an hour late, and checked in for our climb. It was at the point that I realized I had left my boots in Douala so had nothing but my flip flops. Although I was assured by the porters that this was the best type of footwear for hiking a mountain, I decided to bite the bullet and rent some old boots.

We had no food and were quite hung over, not a good state to hike a mountain, so Charles, our guide, took us around to buy some food in the local market. We had no idea what to get and he wasn’t very helpful, so we purchased some bread, jam, peanut butter (yeah, that’s right, somewhat real peanut butter is available in rural Cameroon), ramen, fruit, biscuits (cookies), and a ton of water. We then loaded our daypacks, gave everything else to our porters and began our climb. Charles explained to us the history of the region. Apparently when the Germans colonized Cameroon in the late 19th century, they came to Buea seeking a cooler climate. They were dispelled by the indigenous people but returned 3 years later with a larger force and succeeded in taking the region. They built many of the nicer buildings that are still standing today. We then passed a prison that to our surprise had very jolly music coming from it. We were assured it was safe and headed into the jungle. The first part was easy, we passed strangler tree, large ant colonies (which Joel was obsessed with), yam farms, and a chameleon, making it to the first hut with no problem. The hut was fairly nice and reminded us of the Blair Witch Project a bit because there were many names written on the wall. It was also at this time that we realized the $20 tent that we rented was useless because we could sleep in the hut for free. We asked our guide why we needed a tent and he responded that he was also wondering why we had rented one. So basically we wasted $20 and our porters had to carry a tent up and down 3000 m. Oh well, back to the hike.

After a quick snack, we proceeded and soon passed the tree line and started hiking through the clouds. This is basically when it got difficult. From there it was a relentless steep slope for 1000m to hut 2. There was not really a path, it was basically just grass patches and loose rocks for 1000 meters. We finally came to a hut and started to celebrate, when we were informed by Charles that this was not hut 2, it was hut 1B. This hurt our spirit quite a bit but we pressed on. A little while later we caught up with the other party that left 2 hours before us. It is not that we were very fast, it was more that he was very slow. It was just one guy, a Welsh Indian man who we climbed the rest of the way to hut 2 with. He proceeded to tell us that we must be full of ourselves if we have an MBA, that Kotler did not come up with the 4 Ps or 3Cs, and that doing work for NGOs was totally useless because they are a waste of money. Needless to day, we were not liking our new friend very much. I am not sure if it was the unpleasant company or our hangovers, but the rest of the climb that day was the most difficult part for us. Every time we came to the top of a slope, it just revealed more mountain. Joel, who we thought would run up the mountain, was seriously struggling at this point. I think he needs more sleep to function than the rest of us, and perhaps he drunk a bit more the night before as well. We finally made it to hut 2 and immediately laid down, quite happy that our day's work was complete. At some point between hut 1B and hut 2, our porters, who left significantly after us in the morning, passed us by. That’s right, they were carrying all of our stuff, were wearing flip flops, and singing the whole way as they passed us up the mountain.

They were nice enough to start a fire for us and we decided to have some ramen. At this point they started cooking some local meal for themselves, which included a very hot pepper. We asked for a few for ourselves and I cut them up to put them in the ramen. This was a bad move. They were VERY hot. Although I was warned, I stupidly assumed it wouldn’t be that bad. To put their spice level in perspective, Vijay was even told that he should not touch "himself" after handling one of the peppers. So we started eating the ramen and could barely choke it down it was so hot. Then I was lucky enough to drink a whole piece of pepper. Instantly my nose clogged, my eyes watered, and even my ears were burning. I couldn’t breath because I was completely stuffed up. Worst of all, my runny nose was spicy and it was burning my upper lip. I doused my face with water a few times and we threw out the rest of the ramen. The Welsh guy offered us some leftover spaghetti and we gratefully accepted. Then I went into the "kitchen" (aka. A small hut with a fire in the middle) to hang out with the porters. Unfortunately a large amount of smoke went right into my eyes and I was completely blinded. My eyes were burning terribly. The other guys were in our "room" so I asked them to bring me some water and a t-shirt to wipe off my eyes. After about 10 minutes of rinsing them, I could finally keep my eyes open for more than 2 seconds. Needless to say, I was having a tough time at hut 2 and decided to call it a night.

We didn’t get much sleep though, because Vijay had decided not to bring his own sleeping bag and rented one from the tour company. Though we were told that it was from the German army and was very warm, apparently Germans like it quite a bit cooler than Vijay. He kept thrashing around all night and every time he did, I thought the whole hut would fall down. We woke up at 5 AM to continue our climb, which was another 1300 meters. Going very slowly we reached the top about 4 hours later, took some pictures, and then started our descent (we had to climb down all 3000 meters that day). At first, it seemed very easy compared to going up. Instead of losing your breath every 10 seconds, you did not get tired as all (as you go down, you get more oxygen, so you never get tired). We went all the way back to hut 2 basically without stopping and decided to make ramen for lunch. While we were cooking, we had a lively discussion with the porters. Topics covered their desire to marry a 55+ year old white woman, buying wives (a common practice here), divorce laws in the US (they were stunned to learn that women get half of everything), and finally hot dog eating contests. In general, Cameroonians are not very humble people. When I described to them the contest, they insisted they could win. I asked how many hot dogs they thought they could eat in 10 minutes and they responded about 12. I then told them that Kobayashi can heat 65 to which they immediately responded, confidently that they could eat 70. we finished our non-spicy ramen, packed our stuff, and headed on our way.

This is when it became difficult. From 2800 meters to the start of the rainforest (about 1000m), it is nothing but loose rocks. So every time you take a step, you feel like you will fall down. We all handled this differently. I decided to run down in sprints, figuring that since my feet are only on each part for a second, it doesn’t matter if the rock slips. This is a good strategy as long as you can slow down every so often. Joel went a bit slower, but still made good time. Vijay decided to be the most careful and chose every step, essentially moving at a crawl. Stopping briefly at hut 1b, Vijay mentioned that his legs were getting a bit wobbly. We then continued into the jungle, at which point Joel became a gazelle and flew to hut 1. I walked a bit slower, hanging out with the porters and singing songs. Vijay went down, still very slowly with Charles. The porters, Joel, and I waited for them to catch up at hut 1. We thought we were almost out, but we were wrong. There was still about 2-3 hours of hike in front of us. When Vijay arrived, he informed us that he could not feel his legs at all. We gave him the walking stick and offered help, but he didn’t want any (male pride I suppose). We then learned why everyone had warned us not to climb during rainy season. The remainder of the trail was slick rocks and mud. Joel and I went with the porters the rest of the way and continued our discussions about women, life, and hot dogs. We kept thinking we were almost done, but the train went on forever. At the bottom, one porter described to us how he has friends call him while he is on a date just to discuss large sums of money. Apparently Joel's friend in Chicago does the same thing. Apparently men use the same tricks all over the world.

Vijay finally arrived and we all (7 people) squeezed into a small taxi (2 porters were actually sitting in the trunk with the door open). We called Andre and he had his cousin pick us up and take us to a local restaurant. We had some dinner (Joel finally got his french fries) and the driver arrived to take us home. All in all, it was a great weekend. Our legs didn’t feel the same for about 5 days, but it was worth it. We wonder how much harder kili will be...