The Approach.
Luis and I started walking as soon as breakfast was over,
around 7 am, while the two porters, Simón and Antonio (I will tell you more
about them later), remained behind to pack. The first leg of the trek was an
easy 11 km over the typical undulating landscape of the sabana. There is
slippery clay everywhere, and I have to place my feet carefully to nurture my
swollen left ankle. The porters passed us about three fourths of the way there,
carrying tall burdens that included the kitchen and the toilet. They use a
peculiar type of long basket mounted on a wood frame, that weights a lot but
allows long loads to be packed securely.
Secure packing was important, because the thrill of the day
was going to be crossing the Rio Tük and the Rio Kukenán. Both are good sized
rivers, and we were going to cross them by using the old method of wading with
water up to our waists, carefully placing our feet to oppose the strong
current. The rivers arise from the water draining from two Tepuys (this is the
name given to the table mountains of the area, just as Mount Roraima). The Rio
Tük is born along the south side of Tepui Kukenán, and Rio Kukenán collects the
waters of the east side of Tepui Kukenán and the south side of Mount Roraima.
Since both mountains are often shrouded in clouds, these rivers can swell in a
matter of minutes, and Luis tells me that he has had to spend a couple of days with some groups waiting for the waters
to come down.
The tepuis are a group of 8 table mountains that extend
north from the Venezuela-Brazil border up to the central portion of Venezuela.
The most famous, Mount Roraima, is the tallest of the group (2,800 m amsl) and
has the further distinction of being the only one that can be ascended without
recourse to rock climbing techniques. Furthermore, Mount Roraima (and Kukenán)
is approached through the sabana, whereas the others have to be approached
through thick jungle. Sadly, I have to report that the largest waterfall in the
world, Angels Fall, is not located at Mount Roraima, but much farther north, in
Auyantepui. One can hack his way through the jungle to reach the base of the
waterfall, but the most common way to visit the waterfall is to hire a
helicopter or plane ride from Puerto Ordaz and fly around it (I don’t think
helicopters are allowed to land on top of Auyantepui). But even if Roraima
doesn’t have a 1,000 m waterfall, it has plenty of 900 m waterfalls!
After crossing Rio Kukenán (and feeling a true wilderness
explorer), we reached Kamaiwakén camp, for lunch and spending the night. Our
chef is Simón, who on top of being the leading porter is also a culinary wizard
who can coax incredible meals out of an old Primus kerosene stove using no
other tools than a fork, a dull knife, and a couple of banged-up pots. This
day, for example, we had a tasty chicken with cheese, rice, and fried
plantains.
Our other porter is Antonio, who also happens to be Luis’
dad. Antonio is short, wirey, and has made it his business to make sure my tent
is promptly set up or taken down. He is 50 years old and in top shape, and I
think he has taken the porter job to make a bit of money to complement his
meager pension from the army.
We got here at 1 pm, and I am jumping out of my skin,
thinking we are going to waste a good 6 hours of additional walking. We could
push to Base Camp, but the arrangement there is not as comfortable as here in
Kamaiwakén (here we have a table and a couple of benches). I have thus agreed
to spend the afternoon and overnight here, in exchange for the promise that
tomorrow we will push all the way to the top (about 12 km with an altitude gain
of 1,800 m).
I took some time to go back to the river and take a look at
the boulders there. There is a lot of indurated quartz arenite, with prominent
ripple marks and cross bedding, which Luis tells me are the rocks that form the
tepui. But there are also some distinctive boulders of a hypersthene (bronzite)
gabbro. This gives me the idea that the gabbro could be forming a sill (a bit
like the Palisades Sill in the Hudson River) that is protecting the tepuis from
the ravages of erosion. I call this the Horacio hypothesis, and if it proves
right it will gain me fame, because nobody else has reported such a gabbro.
Once again the night was delightful, with fireflies and a full
moon to add to the feeling of peace. The only disturbance came from Luis, who
is still inclined to talk about his woman Kenya, and the recent spat, which he
assures me it means that the separation is this time for real. He is not a
completely innocent party in this matter (I think he is a bit mujeriego) but I suspect it is a
temporary hiccup. Time will tell.
No comments:
Post a Comment