Ouch, ouch, ouch! I have a terrible kink in my neck, no
doubt from having slept crooked. I struggled to get out of the tent because now
I cannot bend very well, head and torso welded into a single block.
Breakfast was delicious as usual, but I cannot remember now
what it was. I was eager to take on the mountain. But first we had to cover the
9 km to Base Camp, which for most groups would be a whole day’s journey but
will only be the warmup for ourselves given that we are headed for the top.
Just as we were starting the cloud cover lifted, and for the first time I got
to look at Mount Roraima in its full glory. Goodness gracious, it is enormous!
On first blush the sheer cliffs that form the walls look impregnable. How on
Earth are we going to climb those cliffs?
We got underway for what turned out to be an easy trek. Half
of it over gently-sloping sabana, and the other half on a 20-degree slope covered
with loose rocks. Since it was going up it was no big deal, as I had time to
place each step carefully to care for my injured ankle. We arrived at Base Camp
around noon. Base Camp is called Base Camp because it was here that a couple of
explorers set camp in the 1880’s to try to figure out how to reach the top.
They finally conceived the crazy idea that they could climb it by precariously
following the edge of thin, long talus fans. Imagine that you put your hand
flat against a vertical wall. Your fingers are the talus fans (for this thought
experiment it works better if you think that your index finger is longer than
your middle finger), and your extra long index finger barely reaches the top of
the wall. Now imagine that you are a Lady Bug wanting to climb the wall,
starting in your pinky. The Lady Bug would go up along the join between wall
and finger, get to the top, come down to the join between pinky and ring
finger, and repeat the maneuver several times until it reached the top of your
index finger and hence the top of the wall. Unfortunately the ups and downs
involve changes in elevation of hundreds of meters ☹
We had a quick lunch, and finally got ready for The Attack!
Luis thought that since we were leaving Base Camp at 1 pm we
ought to be on top by 5 pm. Four hours? Really? Base Camp is at 1,800 m, and
the top is at 2,800 m, so we had a vertical challenge of 1,000 m (about the
height of El Capitan in Yosemite Valley, in California). The first 300 m we
attacked following the philosophy of Admiral Horatio Nelson: “Damn the
maneuvers. Just go straight to them”. We went straight up to the wall, on
slippery clayey surfaces and slopes of 45 to 60 degrees. Two things happened
almost simultaneously: First I stopped looking at the rocks and missed the end
of the gabbro outcrops, and second it started to rain. Not gentle rain, mind
you, but a very decent rain that pretty soon had us drenched to the bones.
Eventually we got to La
Pared, where the sheer cliff face rose hundreds of meters into the air and
got lost in the mist. We are going to climb this? Cónchale! At about this time Simon and Antonio caught up with us,
planning to be on top with enough time to setup camp. Following suit, Luis and
I started the Lady Bug dosey-do climbing up and down over slopes of 65 to 75
degrees, drenched not only by the constant rain, but also by having to cut
across waterfalls tumbling down 500, 700, and 900 m down from Roraima. Alas, my
phone got water in it and discharged, so I don’t have any photos from this point
onward. Luis was a tower of strength (he has climbed Roraima 200+ times), and
even though I was loosing energy and speed he stayed by my side, giving me good
encouragement. By the time we climbed down from the middle finger to the join
with the index finger I was ready to give up. This is the craziest idea I have
ever had. I think what gave the additional energy to reach the top was the
realization that light was fading out, and that we had to make it to the top
before dusk, which we did as we finally reached the edge of the plateau at 6
pm.
I was ready to drop on the spot, but Luis kept me going with
the promise that our camp was no more than a few minutes away. “Look, there it
is”, he pointed. In disbelief I spied another cliff ahead, up which Simon and Antonio
had set our camp as cliff-dwellers. Pulling energy I don’t know from where I
dragged myself up to our happy, dry camp, where Luis and I stripped from our
cold wet clothes, rubbed vigorously with a towel, and then got on cold, dry
clothes. Heavenly 😊
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