23 August 2006 11:37
In May 2004 I attempted to hike Blue Mountain with Kyle and Roland. It's been on my list of things to do ever since, but I knew I'd never get around to doing it by myself (not that it would be particularly wise thing to do alone in the first place). So when I found out that the Salters were going, I blatantly invited myself to go along with my usual lack of social tact.
A map. Courtesy of lonely planet.
The Salters started trickling into Kingston on Friday 09 June, with Nebyou and Susanna showing up last minute on Saturday thanks to a less-than-scrupulous coaster conductor (didn't know that those existed [3]). Ron had some trouble obtaining a suitably-sized van for free, so he wound up renting a minivan for the occasion. I drove it while he drove his pickup (sans power-steering). It was fun for me to drive something that was, well, new (our Toyota is about to hit 110,000km). But it was also "interesting" to be driving something that was decidedly larger than a Toyota Sprinter through the environs of rural Jamaica. Besides being an extra foot or so wide, the long wheelbase made it a lot harder to dodge potholes successfully. (That is, it made me look bad).
With everybody on board (Ron, Ben, Diana, Erin, Katrine, Leah, Nebyou, Nick, Sara, Susanna, Tara, and myself) we left the MCC house for the forty minute drive up to Mavis Bank where we parked across from the constabulary. Our ride for the next leg showed up a mere three minutes after we did, which didn't jibe well at all with my mental expectations of third-world transportation (un)punctuality--but who am I to complain? A well-broken-in Toyota Landcruiser was ours for $6000 Jamaican to pile as many people as we wanted on board for the ride up to Whitfield Hall. This we did, Ron in the front with the driver and eleven of us plus baggage/coolers standing in the back. All mothers will be relieved to hear that no one was maimed or injured on this little escapade, although more than one of us sustained minor cuts or bruises from running into overhanging vegetation.
Nebyou the visionary surrounded by females.
The ride up quickly crushed any hope I'd ever had of using a company car to aid in a second assault of the summit. The route by Landcruiser was somewhat more circuitous than the direct (ie vertical) trail we had walked from Mavis Bank in '04, but it also saved a solid three hours of hiking. In '04 I'd noticed that access was possible by vehicle, and thought that it might be feasible to use one of the company cars to do so. This was my first glimpse of the road between Mavis Bank and the hostel. The verdict was swift: no dice. If only the company would spring for a four wheel drive with some clearance so that I can take more time off work to use it. They seem to think that's not good business sense...
Hagley Gap. Notice the profusion of Landcruisers. The Hiace's would make the run up from the Yallah's direction, then people would transfer their goods into the Landcruisers for transportation further up the ridge towards Penlyne Castle.
After waving to a lot of kids and driving through a lot of cricket games (being held in the middle of the road), we arrived at our hostel (Whitfield). We offloaded the Landcruiser, said goodbye to our driver, plunked down our bags inside the house and proceeded immediately out into the yard to play frisbee. After much good-natured indecision (Mennonites prefer to join committees, not take charge and be decisive) we even got a game of Ultimate going. In painfully short order this had me gasping for air and wishing I would exercise more. (I still wish I'd exercise more, but I'd rather be typing this than out running around).
Our Ultimate field. Rather idyllic, one would almost expect to see fairies and elves.
Right before supper a few of us had the brilliant idea of walking up the ridge behind the house aways to see what we could see. No harm in that is there? Armed with the information that we had about twenty minutes; Nick, Ben, and I set off. We returned hot, sweaty, scratched, sticky, and famished an hour and a half later. Susanna was more than kind and helped us (actually just Nick) heat up the coco bread pizza's they'd made for us earlier.
Our venture consisted mostly of one word. Up. But the scenery was varied and very interesting. First it was coffee. That was fairly easy because they cut shelves in the hillside to hold the plants. Above the coffee was hillside that was about to be planted in coffee. Next we crossed a fence and found ourselves in grass. We had passed below this ridge just before reaching the hostel and admired the grass covered bit of hillside, which was why we were aiming for it. I had had previous experiences with "grass-covered hillsides" in Jamaica and should have known what to expect. The first place we tried to cross the grass was a mat about four to five feet deep. You could expect to make the same speed as hiking through four or five feet of mud. Our second attempt was more successful, it was only 18 inches deep there--a surmountable obstacle.
Following little ridge lines or other trails we kept to the thinner grass and proceeded up. This stuff was sticky and soon our hands and legs were coated with what I presume was sap from the grass. Undaunted (of course) we continued on to find something new: thyme. Planted quite innocently on the hillside was a five by ten patch of thyme sprigs. We came across more further up, as well as plantings of spring onion, tomatoes, some sort of peas, and another spice that we never identified.
Above the plantings the going got a little rough. The hillside had been burned (probably just last season) and the grass was only six or so inches high, growing in clumps. This meant the soil was fairly loose and likely to give way if you neglected to step anywhere but on a root system, but a little perseverance brought us to the top. Here we had a good view of our hazy surroundings, a good wind whipping across, and a long way back down. The handy bit about looking down from the top is being able to spot the trail that would have greatly aided our ascent (at the sacrifice though of much fun). It also greatly aided our descent, and we made it down in probably a quarter of the time it took us to go up.
Our hostel nestled in the eucalyptus trees. Nick after diving headfirst into five feet of matted grass. The Grand Ridge of the Blue Mountains running behind us.
After consuming as much coco bread pizza as we could hold, the evening settled down and we set to occupying our hands with everything from knitting to cards. I think it was at this point that Diana and Katrine learned to play Rook...much to the benefit of future evenings in Kingston wherein Rook played a prominent role. Later we gathered around the table for devos courtesy of Nick and to sing a few songs. We were interrupted at one point by a couple who had just arrived from Kingston. Robert and his girlfriend Candy (British Jamaican and British respectively) who decided to join our party for the hike in the morning.
Since that hike was set to commence somewhere during the two o'clock hour, many hit the hay as soon as devos was over. Others didn't, but youth is sometimes given to folly (I am no exception).
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