Spring Break 2007: Mt. Cameroon Kicks My Ass

As I mentioned in my post on Buea, the town lies at the feet of Mt. Cameroon. Although it can be hard to see due to fog and cloud cover, the highest peak in west Africa looms over the town. There are trails to the summit and it's a popular destination for tourists who are into hiking and mountain climbing.

Every February there is a race that starts in Buea, waaaayyy down below the mountain, and goes all the way up to the summit. Hundreds of runners race up the side of the mountain and back to compete for a grand prize of 3 million Francs CFA (about $6,000 USD) and various smaller prizes for runners up. In town there is a big party and all sorts of festivities as people line up along the route to watch the runners start and then wait for the winners to return. Unfortunately I missed the race but got to hear all about it.

When we climbed the mountain we took the trail that's called "Racetrack" because it is used by the runners. Having followed in their footsteps up a trail that is often very steep, slippery, and treacherous I can only say I'm amazed anyone can run up the trail at all. But the astounding thing is that these people not only run all the way to the summit (at an altitude of over 4,000 meters) and then run all the way back down, but that the winners usually do it in four hours or less. And the runners all wear jelly shoes for the race. Anyone who can even complete the run at all is one of the world's greatest athletes in my book. Someone who can finish it in four hours is inhuman.

Being the foolish sort, I decided that since I was there I should climb the mountain. Given what a tough climb it is, going up the mountain should be preceded by lots of careful preparation. Needless to say, Bill and I were having none of that. So, we took an evening to pack and do some shopping and then drafted Bill's friend Simon (a kid from the neighborhood) to come with us.

We arrived at the Ecotourism offices at about 7:30 AM. They're a company that has a contract to maintain the trails on the mountain and sell permits. If you want to climb the mountain you have to buy a permit with them and either hire on of their guides or give them the name of your guide if you have your own. We signed Simon up as our guide.

The climb started at a belt of farmland just above Buea called "Upper Farm."

As you climb higher, the farms turn to forest and the trail starts to get a bit steeper. I almost immediately noticed my lugs were working hard from the altitude.

After a couple of hours you reach the first shelter on the mountain "Hut 1". We stopped and rested and had snacks and water there for a bit before continuing on.

After a while, the forest thins out and you enter into an area of rocks and grass which gets progressively steeper and more treacherous the higher you go.

On this leg of the climb, there is a second shelter, called "Savannah" where Simon and I stopped to rest for a bit. Bill apparently does not require oxygen in his bloodstream and was way ahead of us by the time we dragged ourselves to this point.

After leaving Savannah, we came to the Magic Tree. I know it's magic because Simon told me so. Notice how there are no other trees around it? Obviously it only survives because of magic. So there.

This leg of the climb was the hardest. The slope was very steep and the trail was made up of hard volcanic rock that makes slips and slides painful. The rocks also tear up your shoes if you don't have a good pair. I wore a pair of Merrell hiking shoes that survived OK. There was also lots of loose rock and gravel around, so it was very easy to slide. Miraculously, I didn't fall and only slipped a bit once or twice.

Finally, around 1 PM we made it to Hut 2 (which is actually the third of four shelters along the trail) where we would spend the night.

Since the summit was still about 3 or 4 hours on, and hut 3 is apparently too cold to sleep in at night without heavy duty cold weather gear, we would not have made it up to the summit and back to hut 2 before dark, so Simon and I stopped and waited for Bill. He had charged on ahead and ended up making it to the summit and back before nightfall. As it started to get dark we chowed down on sausage, cheese, bread, and Kwacoco, then settled in for the night.

It turned out to be a long and sleepless night for me. It was cold, and I had not brought warm enough clothing, so by about 3 AM I was shivering quite a bit. We were sleeping on a wooden platform, which wasn't especially comfortable. Simon snored like a buzz saw. Finally, there were mice in the shelter who kept crawling around on the platform with us. The skittering of mice around my head also made it hard to sleep. All told I think I only had about 2 hours of sleep. Ugh. Sunrise was nice though.

The next morning I set out early with Simon. Bill was concerned that it might be too cold for me at the summit with the clothes I had on, so since he'd already been he offered to wait at hut 2 and give me his jacket. Before leaving I made the mistake of eating kwacoco a local dish Simon's mother had made us before leaving. Kwacoco is good, but very heavy. It's the kind of food that makes you feel like you've got a big rock in your stomach for hours afterward. Obviously, this is exactly what I should have been eating before hiking to the summit. I don't know if it was the kwacoco, the altitude, the lack of sleep, the fact that I'm out of shape, or a combination, but about 20 minutes up the trail from hut 2 I started to feel nauseous. I kept at it for a bit and stopped and rested a few times to see if I felt better, but I still felt sick and almost wretched a few times. Finally I decided that discretion was the better part of valor and turned back.

We made it back to hut 2 where I rested a while until the nausea passed, then the three of us started down. The return trip was even more physically demanding than the trip up. Going up is hard on the lungs, going down is harder on the legs and knees. Simon was great - even though I felt better by this point he stuck by me the whole way down to make sure I made it back in one piece. Nice kid. By the time we finally made it back to Buea in the early afternoon we were all exhausted, in pain, and looked like a bunch of homeless men from all the dirt and sweat we had accumulated on the mountain.

After the climb, we slunk back to Bill's house, cleaned up, changed, took naps, and then dragged our aching bodies out to dinner afterward. We had a lot of trouble going up and down stairs that night and the next day as well.

Bill and his friends Hans and Simon kept saying that the "next time" I climb the mountain with them they'll help me prepare better. Hah! Mount Cameroon thoroughly kicked my ass the first time. Not sure I need to go through it again. But on the other hand, it was disappointing that I did not reach the summit. And then that bastard Bill wouldn't give me copies of the pictures he took up there - saying I had to come back and take my own. So, you never know. If I was crazy enough to do it once ...