Sunday morning. Six a.m. We're usually trying to bury our heads back under the pillows at this hour, but today we are pulling on our clothes and gathering the food and water we prepared last night. The "maxi" picks us up at 6:30 outside the marina area, and we're off.
Every other Sunday, a local hiking group called Hikeseekers does a different trip, and Dennis and Debbie aboard The W. C. Fields organize things for cruisers who want to go along. Today we've got a full van, twelve hardy souls, headed for El Tucuche which is Trinidad's second-highest peak at 3069 feet. (The highest mountain on the island, El Cerro de Aripo, is 13 feet higher but has easier trails and no view, so El Tucuche is the preferred ascent among local hikers.)
We twelve boaters make hardly a white dent in the sea of brown and black (and a few white) Trinis waiting at the trailhead. We have never before been on a hike with 80 other people, and the experience is a bit strange. We mill around for a while until the lead guide, a man called "Snake", shepherds us onto the trail. There are a half-dozen guides, all armed with machetes and some carrying ropes. The guide at the head of the group has a machete, presumably to clear the trail of overgrowth. The guide at the rear of the group also has a machete, presumably to poke laggards in the butt.
The trail goes more or less straight uphill into the hot, humid forest, and I'm instantly covered in sweat. First I worry that the mosquito repellent I applied earlier will wash off in my sweat, leaving me vulnerable. Then I realize that no mosquito could possibly land on my slick skin or bite through the layer of sweat. It's like being coated in teflon. I can't even effectively scratch an old bite -- my fingernails just slide off my leg.
The line of people slowly surges uphill. Some people pass others, some stop and prop themselves against trees to rest. We chat with a variety of people; other cruisers, locals, and one pretty black woman who we first assumed was Trini but turned out to be a US Marine, posted three weeks ago to the embassy security staff. We get lost at one point and have to backtrack. Eventually we break through to a little sunny field which turns out to be the summit. There is a view to the south, but the clouds have closed in to the north. Lunches are broken out. Pictures are taken. More people arrive.
Eventually one of the guides makes the decision to start down. Going down a steep mountain is just as difficult as going up, particularly if it's raining. Which it soon is. The trail never approaches the squishy squashy muddiness of the trails we hiked in Grenada, but it's slippery enough to have us all grabbing for whatever handholds we can find among the tree roots. The descent is complicated by having to dodge the people who are still on their ascent.
In
the steepest section the guides tie a rope to a tree, to be used as a
handrail. Dozens of screaming, squealing, muddy people grab on and
lower themselves down. When we get to the rope, Britt notices it was
tied on with a simple, inadequate overhand knot, the tail of which
has almost completely slipped through, held only by the slightly
larger bump where the nylon has been melted to keep the end from
fraying. We forgo the rope and climb down a ladder of tree roots
instead.
At one point the guides decide we will return a different way, so as to end up at a swimming hole. It seems a little silly since by now it is pouring down rain and we are all totally soaked anyway, but a few people go for a swim. From the swimming hole we walk along the road back to the starting area, past a fruit stand where one of the Trinis buys a big handful of greeny-orange tangerines for a nickel each and passes them out to everyone in our little cluster of people that have all hiked down together. The tangerine is so yummy we buy a bunch more to take back to the boat.
Our maxi is not yet back at the parking area. Neither are about half our group of cruisers, so the rest of us hike a hundred yards farther to a bar and drink vast quantities of beer and tell stories until everyone else shows up.