Travel Scars: 5 Men, a Mountain Range and a Mule

Nov. 3rd-7th

The first leg of our journey to Gonder went relatively smoothly, until we had to change buses in Debre Tabor of course. As we exited the bus, men in a nearby microbus grabbed our bags and threw them into their van without even asking. Chris proceeded to call one of them crazy and I told the guy fighting me for my own bag to "fuck off" (and I actually said it repeatedly, although I don't think he understood what I was saying). We obviously didn't go in their bus and within a few minutes, were back on our way to Gonder in another bus not commandeered by crazy Habesha.

Kyle had hooked us up with two of his Peace Corps friends living in Gonder. Nicole and Dan were quite impressed that we had managed to make it from Lalibela to Gonder in under 12 hours, but they were not aware of our tenacity and resilience. In order to optimize our time in Sudan, we had carefully calculated our remaining days in Ethiopia and unfortunately had to leave for Debark the following morning. Dan and Nicole were generous enough to allow us to leave the majority of our things at their place.

We had learned our lesson from Uganda and had only brought absolute necessities with us: the warmest clothing we had, which consisted of a pair of skinny jeans and my Maasai Shuka, and enough food to last us the entirety of our 4-day trek.

Our first day in Debark was dedicated to arranging the details of our trek in the beautiful Simien Mountains National Park and hiring our crew. Yes we get a crew. Since all of the official, accredited guides were already on the mountain with other hikers, we were left with the option of hiring an assistant guide: the only difference being potential communication issues (less experience in English) and he hasn't taken the certification exam yet. No big deal.

We decided we'd meet him first before hiring him, because by park rules, a guide is not necessary and we wanted a guide to enhance our experience, not just another person to walk with.

In walks Mesele (or "Messi" as he prefers to be called): a diminutive young man with a Detroit Pistons' tuque on his head and a swagger in his step. We instantly hit it off and deem him our esteemed leader. Messi then introduces us to the rest of our team.

The first member is Jojo, our scout. Each group of hikers is required by park rules to be accompanied by an armed scout: not to protect the Forenjis from endemic predators, but to dissuade desperate men from robbing us.

The final two members of our crew were Mr. B (even Messi could not pronounce or spell his name and he's Ethiopian!), our muler and Samule, our beloved pack-mule.

As opposed to Kilimanjaro, where you have a dedicated team of porters carrying your heavy gear (i.e. tents, cookware, etc), in the Simien Mountains however, this job is reserved for one or more of these sterile equidae. We luckily didn't have much gear so Samule was all we needed.

The next step was to go with Messi and rent some camping gear: we took very little due to the fact that our food did not require heating (all tuna or peanut butter and jam sandwiches) or some kind of trail mix to keep things simple. We stupidly declined taking an extra blanket even though both Messi and Sven had warned us that it got quite cold after nightfall.

Since Debark bore nothing of touristic interest, we simply lounged around and conserved our energy for the start of our trek the following day. Our four trekking companions were meeting us at 6:00am in front of our hotel, so we needed to be ready.

The Simien Mountains comprise many palatial peaks. The highest of which is Ras Dashen, rising to an impressive 4550 meters. Our time constraints limited our trek, but if I ever had the opportunity to complete the 10-day journey, I would do it in a heartbeat.

The following morning, everyone was on time except Messi. By the time he showed up, Jojo and our muler had helped us pack up our gear in burlap sacks and secured them to Samule.

Our first day's trek involved walking 26 km from Debark to Sankaber, located at an elevation of 3250 m. Messi, Jojo, Chris and I would travel together while Mr B. and Samule would take the mule route, which was shorter and therefore assured that they would arrive before us and our tents and gear would be ready for use when we reached the camp.

The first day's journey was spectacular, both in natural beauty and in cultural displays. As we walked through a large open field, we saw school-children jogging as part of their scholastic requirements. If anyone would benefit from a jog at 7:00 am in the morning, it is our sedentary, video-game playing children, not these bone-thin, energetic youngsters, but I digress.

Another portion led us through golden fields and cliff-side villages where toddlers would run to shake our hands and say "Hello", "Pen" or "Money" until we were out of their sights. Since an overwhelming majority of people that come to the Simiens take private transport to Sankaber, we did not encounter any other hikers on our way up. Another consequence of this transportation system, both domestic and touristic, is that a large portion of the hike is done 20-30 m from the gravel roads utilized by the trucks or vans; and for certain portions, we even walked on these roads when there wasn't a more scenic or alternate walking route.

But please don't take these words as negative. Despite this, the views are the most spectacular I have ever seen. A 90-degree turn of the head shifts your gaze from a gravel road to marvelous cliffs rising hundreds of meters.

Another incredible aspect of this palatial mountain range is the endemic species which live there. The park is known for the rare and near-endangered Ethiopian or Simien wolf, the Walia Ibex and the hundreds of Gelada baboons that graze the cliff-sides. We were fortunate enough to see the latter, well over one hundred; grooming and playing with each other, on our first day. Their nonchalant attitude towards humans was incredible, we could get extremely close to them without so much as a quick glance in our direction, just to assure we were not a predator.

When we arrived at Sankaber in the afternoon, our tents were already pitched and our other gear ready to be used. One unfortunate aspect of the trip is that our crew is expected to bring their own food, but they seldom do because that would mean less money earned on the trek, so we gladly gave them some food to assure they wouldn't starve, although we were lucky we had brought enough for everyone.

Although Kilimanjaro is over 10 times more expensive than our trip in the Simiens, at least the parks system assures that the entire crew is fed and has a warm place to sleep. Poor Jojo and our muler just wrapped themselves in a wool blanket, sat on a bench and slept like that. It wouldn't have been so bad except that it was below zero!

Our error in refusing an extra blanket was quickly revealed as soon as the sun had set: my skin- tight jeans, multiple layers of t-shirts and Maasai Shuka did little to prevent the cold air from penetrating our tent, sleeping bags and preventing us from sleeping due to our incessant shivering.

Yeah, we're stupid.

After a frigid, sleepless night, Chris and I exited our tent as the sun had already reared it's fiery head and we could therefore walk around without the risk of hypothermia (okay maybe I'm exaggerating a little). We ate a quick breakfast and packed up our gear. We had an ambitious day ahead of us. Our goal was to reach Gich, the next camp, at an altitude of 3600 m by midday. If we managed to do so, we could continue towards Imet Gogo (3926 m), the spectacular view-point utilized as Lonely Planet's Ethiopia cover photo, before the sun starts setting. We could then return to Gich to sleep and then commence our decent back towards Debark. If not, we could just camp out at Gich and climb up to Imet Gogo the following morning.

The route to Gich was sensational: every turn revealing incredible views that defy description. Our pace was commendable, our breaks short and seldom. Before we knew it, we had reached Gich prior to even Mr. B and Samule. We took a brief pause to eat and rehydrate, then we left our bags behind and set off for Imet Gogo.

Without the burden of our packs, our pace accelerated even more, and within an hour-and-a-half, we were standing at the edge of Paradise, gazing at a view that vindicates the existence of God. Messi stated that we could only spend a few minutes on this immaculate peak and Chris and I savored every minute of it.

After sitting pensively, gazing at mother nature in all her magnificence; and posing for photos with Jojo's rifle, we started our decent back to purgatory. Back to Gich. My near-death experience had occurred without a semblance of injury or danger, for I had just seen Heaven, and lived to tell the tale.

The slow walk down to Gich was a reflective one. Chris and I speaking little, but our thoughts aligned. A fitting climax to an incredible trek. As Imet Gogo became but a fond memory, the winds picked up and the sun's brilliance intensified as it dipped in the sky. I was being pushed back, tempted by the elements themselves. I couldn't go back. It was not my time.

Reality set back in as soon as we arrived at Gich, the cold air and strong winds almost mocking us with their wicked ferocity and further accentuating our metaphorical decent from Heaven. We then sat around a fire and shared freshly killed chicken and Roman noodles with our incredible crew. Sleep came quickly that night, considering our productive day. Fatigue prevailed over the frigid temperatures and howling winds.

The walk from Gich to Sankaber was familiar, but no less impressive. We settled at the camp, enjoying the midday's sun. We took the opportunity to acquaint ourselves with two Israelis who had hiked from Debark as we had. We then went to bed early after sharing our food and sitting by a fire. If we were going to make it back to Debark and catch a bus to Gonder that same day, we needed an early start. Messi had opted to take a lift down, but Chris and I wanted to finish the journey on foot.

Jojo, Chris and I set off before most other hikers had even woken up. Our decision to leave early had proved to be a smart one. We arrived back in Debark an hour before the bus left for Gonder. Messi had already purchased our tickets, because he had arrived several hours before us. We then enjoyed a chai and sugar-covered donut at the Habesha Cafe before boarding the bus back to Gonder. We thanked Messi, Jojo and sent our regards to Mr. B and Samule, who had not yet returned.