Take a Hike

Well, my sprained ankle only took six months to heal but it has now done so! And I tested it by doing a few hikes.

First I hiked to Yaya’s house with her. It took us five and half hours to walk 13 miles, losing and then regaining about 2,500 ft in elevation. We had a blast! We enjoyed lunch sitting on some rocks by a water hike in the river. In the summer when the water isn’t partially snow melt, it could be a really fun place to go swimming. The hike back up to her village I enjoyed less, but we made it! It was spectacular and fun.

The second hike I did alone, to a different volunteer’s house. It took me about the same amount of time though this hike was closer to 10 miles instead of 13. The reason is took longer is because there was less of an established trail and I was blazing my own. Which ended up causing some problems.

I was following a river down to the valley and then I’d go up the other side. Sounds simple, right? What I didn’t know was that the little river I was following from my village held some surprises. From my village it looks like it gently winds down the mountains. But, what I couldn’t see when I started was that it does gently wind down until it doesn’t. In the space of about a kilometer, it suddenly drops through three water falls and suddenly I am standing on a cliff edge 300 feet about the river I crossed only half an hour before. And I have no way down.

The drop:

Obviously, I made it. But it took some effort and some backtracking and a few heart stopping moments of slippery footing. Not my brightest idea but certainly one of my most memorable experiences here.

And thanks in part to a couple of little Basotho heard boys. I was back on solid footing but I was still stuck on top of a butte (of a sort) with no easy way down to the river I needed to cross. Then I ran into these three little heard boys, maybe 10 years old. They were bored and clearly fascinated as to why there was a lone white girl walking through their tiny (and I mean tiny, maybe 8 houses and nothing else) where they’ve probably never seen someone like me before, so they started following me. Which was very lucky for me. I was pretty sure I had found a way down but it looked a little precarious. Okay, it looked a lot precarious. But I didn’t see anything else resembling a path. So I pointed to it and told the boys I was going to the river below (in halting Sesotho, since the boys knew no English). They nodded and showed me down the mountain path. I started down alone and picked my way down to an outcrop, scooting on my butt some of the way. And from the outcrop, I could see the rest of the path, a rather charitable description as it was really just a sandy ledge on a cliff about as wide as my shoulders. I hesitate on the outcrop, bracing myself for the path since I cannot go back up to my village before dark now and have no wya to go but forward and down. Then I hear giggling above me. Up at the top of the cliff, maybe 50 feet above me, the little boys are laughing at my hesitation. I wave and turn away, once again contemplating the best way forward. And then suddenly the boys are next me, having scrambled down the section of already done in less that two minutes (it took me nearly ten). They grab my hand, barely pausing to let me grab my backpack up, and haul me down the path. It was comforting to know that if a few boys in galoshes can do it, I can do it. I rarely experience any fear of heights or vertigo. I’ve only been on two other hikes ever that have made me as nervous as this one did. One was in Yosemite National Park on my way up Half Dome, and the other was the Angel’s Landing trail in Zion National Park. Both might have had more extreme drops, but both had handholds to grab to steady myself. This didn’t. So thank you small children in galoshes (or gum boots as they call them here)! Eventually I they got me down to the river and then immediately scrambled back up to the top, ignoring the path and going straight up the cliff itself. These are not human children, they are actually mountain goats in disguise.

But they got me down and the path of the other side was actually a path, a clear and easy one. And by the time I made it to the My detonation, I was feeling pretty proud of myself and not as sore as I had predicted.

I managed not to mess up my ankle again on either trip!! And now I have a far deeper understanding of the beautiful landscape I currently call home. It is majestic and gorgeous and I love it!

The way down: