Steve travels #19: Freestyle hike part 3
After a long series of short sleeps, we go through the fierce morning sun ritual again. I have no up-and-go, and am content to watch the phone battery slowly go up through the solar charger. Can I get it above 60%? Or will my incessant map fiddling drag it down again.
This new spot brings intermittent mobile reception. When there are clouds overhead it seems to be better. It’s nice to be in touch with some people at home.
Hours pass and the lethargy remains. One coffee becomes two. I manage a test stroll a hundred metres up the hill and don’t like the conclusions.
Half heartedly I half pack up the tent but remain inside it. There are shouts outside and a flock of sheep, a dog and curious shepherd have come to say hello and ask questions I can’t understand. But I get across that I’m a tourist, from Australia, and I’m intending to go down the hill. He seems ok with this, and moves along with his horse, dog and flock of sheep.
I’m starting to think about packing up for real when suddenly a shower hits, quickly developing into a real thunderstorm. It’s suddenly so cold I need to get the sleeping bag and mat out again. And then 30 minutes later we’re roasting again.
It’s lunchtime now and I still haven’t moved. I could spend a whole rest day here, perched at this spot. There’s water nearby and I have mountains of food. But the prospect doesn’t thrill me. I want to move.
The inevitable is eventually accepted: I’m in no condition to go further up the mountain. This cold has got the better of me, and I need to get down.
I pack up for real and start down and across. I briefly toy with the idea of a different route straight down the mountain, but it introduces new uncertainties I could do without, and would possibly require a longer road bash. Instead I try to roughly retrace my steps from the first day.
As I start to move, a familiar frantic series of high pitched squawks breaks out. For weeks I have noticed this alarm call and never been quite able to work out its source. I suspected marmots. At last - confirmation! Two squawking marmots scramble across the hills, dive into a hole, and the squeaking ends.
I’m a bit concerned about one river crossing that required a very specific place to cross, and drag out my GPS trace to let me hit it precisely. I’m doing ok as long as I don’t do any uphills.
To my surprise as I descend I’m getting better and better views of the mountain I was closer to, plus a few others that were blocked by cloud on the first day. It’s a really nice compensation actually.
The river crossing is pretty terrifying in the reverse direction, a big hop between two large rocks, but it goes ok.
And so, down, down and down I go. There’s now a thunderstorm chasing me, and I’m hurrying as fast as I can.
Just as it’s about to hit, I find another disused farmhouse, and hang out on the front verandah for a bit. I start to contemplate spending the night inside, and decide in favour. It’s getting dark, and I really don’t want to get stuck trying to hitchhike after dark.
But then the very mild storm passes, the outside light brightens, and the musty stuffiness inside starts to get to me.
After all, it’s only 2 kilometres to the road from here, and there should be almost 2 hours of daylight left. I’ll be rejoining a straightforward track that I have already walked up. Camping here seems silly. What could possibly go wrong?
I gather my things, and quickly push on. I pass a farmhouse where a couple of people are sitting outside, but they don’t say anything, and I’m glad not to be interrupted.
I carefully skirt a wheat field, and pick up the track from the first day. I remember this bit. There’s the Islamic wall. Around the next corner will be that fun challenge of hopping across the trickle of water, then we’re home.
I turn the corner.
Oh shit.
There is no trickle of water. There is a massive torrent of brown water, flowing fast and at least 30 metres wide. I can barely even guess the shape of the track which is underneath all that somewhere.
Oh shit.
There are no rocks to hop across. This is not going to happen.
Oh shit.
What to do?