Friday, November 30, 2012

I'd Definitely Do Adam Again.



A lovely but long morning loafing through Lipton county then Eva & I hop a 1:30pm train outta chilly & rainy Hatton.  I’m managing to spend less than 24 hours in some towns – yes, moving quickly.  I’m off to Dalhousie to climb the million stairs of Adam’s Peak , she’s heading to Kandy.  There’s a brand new train that has started running, literally a week on the tracks, and Eva and I are wandering up and down carriages marveling at how “it’s just like at home!”  Shiny and modern and 1/7th the price of the fancy yet well worn panorama trains with equally good views.  Bonus:  it’s new so it’s CLEAN and it smells new!  No stinky pee smells or greasy head spots on the windows.  Lucky timing on our part.

So yes, more pretty landscape, ooh & aah tea terrain then off in some random connection town, walk, bus.  No bus??  Pardon??  Oh … TWO bus.  A 33km journey takes me almost 2 & ½ hrs.  Of course it does.  It’s cold and dark and my pack weighs about 50kgs by this point.  I was welcomed to a prearranged guesthouse (a rare & wise moment on my part) by the most charming sweetheart of a teenaged school girl I have ever met.  As she chats away in brilliant English, getting me settled and sorting my life, business with just the right touch of how do you do, I melt.  This girl has been running the show for quite some time and it was so entertaining to watch.  She’s going to do very, very well for herself. 

The regular dealio for this sacred step aerobics class is a 2:30 – 3am start to catch the 5:45am sunrise.  There’s supposed to be a magical shadow shape that appears and well, it’s sunrise.  All good sunrises are seen from the top of something, aren’t they?  I rolled into this town near 8pm after a 4:30am start and a full day of travel … yeah, I’m not going to make it tonight.  So after staying awake as politely long as possible, I slept.  And slept.

And when I awoke to wander the shuttered up, boarded up, deserted town of Dalhousie, I realized that this is one of those less than 24 hour towns, but I had already missed my ascent opportunity.  Pilgrim season is Dec full moon to May full moon which means all the little restaurants, shops, tea houses, and most of the guesthouses board up like southern States in hurricane season.  I also forewent my chance for the included breakfast so lunch consisted of crackers and water I had saved from my trip into town.  The “Food Shop” attached to my guesthouse was empty except for… yep, crackers and water.  That being said, I would much rather experience the subtle pangs of hunger than the throngs of hundreds and thousands that over take the place in a couple of short weeks.  So I wandered and hung out in this gorgeous little mountain town mentally preparing myself to be slaughtered by a night time climb.  I chatted with a ridiculously fit Aussie guy who had done the climb in the morning (while I was snoozing my life away) and he just kept shaking his head, “It was tough.  Yeah, hard.  Tough going.  Really tough, hey.  My legs were just shaking.”  *gulp*  Oh shit.

I decided for a 2am start as I figured this chubby chick was going to need a fair amount of extra time to haul her holiday sized ass up a mountain.  The other (again very fit) people I overheard chatting were all aiming for a 3am start.  Okay.  That sounds about right.  I left my room at 2am and it took me about 15 mins to walk through a dark and eerily quiet town.  Helloooooo?  Anybodeeeee???  Just before reaching the start of the trail, approaching a T-intersection, I heard dogs going apeshit.  A whole pack of them howling and barking and oh crap, they were getting closer.  A quick look around and damnit, I’m in the middle of an empty road!  There’s nowhere to run or jump or escape these frantic hounds. If I can’t do this climb because I am getting eaten by DOGS I am NOT going to be impressed!!!  I hold my breath and wait, staring at that empty T-intersection.  Dogs come running from the right side to the left, not even turning to look towards me, then a MASSIVE wild pig, then more dogs.  Bahahahahaha!  Did that really just happen?!  *sigh* Oh man.  I’m going to take that at a good omen.  Run piggy run!

So hit the trail head and swallow the tiny bubbles of fear creeping up on me as I realize that it’s pitch black, I’m now on a trail in the middle of a jungle/mountain, and I’m all alone.  Again, not the smartest move.  But it’s a maintained, well marked, impossible to get lost set of stairs so I keep moving.  Fast.  (well okay, fast for me, not for the majority)  Huffing and puffing.  I’m going to do this thing.  I was soon very thankful for being on my own as the steps presented themselves in all their miserable glory.  Steep, uneven, and unending.  There is a reason you do this in the dark – if you actually saw how much torture was ahead of you, there is no way in hell you’d keep going, pilgrim or not.  I promise you.  Out of breath, gasping for air, heart about to gush fountains of blood out of my ears, yeah, I’m kinda glad no one is here to see this mess.    

Then …  what …  oh shit.  Have you ever tried to stop and listen when you are completely out of breath?  I was trying to hold my breath and listen to some sound that had spooked me but I couldn’t breathe from the damn steps.  Nearing blackout, lungs about to burst…  Breathe?  Listen??  *help*  Suddenly, torches appear out of the darkness behind me.  Oh glory days!  Noisily gulping air, hiccupping and kinda laughing, I calmed my painfully thudding heart and waited to catch my breath as the trio came into sight.  Two German guys and their guide.  I let them pass me as rare common sense kicked in.  I don’t need to be here on my own. 

Their guide quickly gave up on the ascent and I kept the Germans (who appeared to find this unfairly easy. Bastards.) in sight.  By in sight, I mean I could occasionally see their torches shining far, far above me.  The steps just got ridiculous.  Really.  But again, when I stopped to try to keep my heart from exploding out of my chest, a rustle in the trees closing in on all sides pushed me upward and onward.  I will not get eaten on this journey.  Up, up, up.

The steps didn’t stop.  Straight up.  Keep going.  Switch a little here, turn a bit there.  No stop.  And then I was in the clouds.  I guess.  Or maybe mist?  Fog?  What’s the difference between mist, fog, and clouds?  I need to look into that.  The clear, starry sky disappeared, the crumbling, uneven, leaf covered steps were now wet and slippery, and my torch is doing nothing but showing me the few steps ahead of me leading into blank greyness.  And not the good 50 Shades of Grey greyness.  I can’t see the German torches but I convince myself I can hear their voices every once in a while.  This was massive mind over matter time.  At one point the stairs became smaller and steeper (how is this even possible?!) so they’ve put in railings.  Tiny bit of bliss.  I was pulling myself up as I went which I somehow managed to trick my silly little brain into believing made it easier.  What. Was. I. Thinking???

And then there was light.  Literally.  The top.  Suddenly I was there.  As it’s a temple, sacred footstep of Adam or Buddha or whoever you believe in, thing at the top (google it, each religion in SL has laid claim to it, kinda cool), it is locked up tight and someone is always there.  Orange street light lamps lure your weary body those last few suicidal steps to the flat ground calling sweet rest to you.  The Germans were there, having arrived maybe 15 minutes before, and that was it.  A small Rocky Balboa hurrah and it was just we three.  What time is it?  4:25am. Sorry, WHAT time is it?!  4:25am.  Oh maaaaannnn.  We’ve got an hour and a half to wait.  Irrelevant though as I figured it took me just over 2 hours to climb a feat that I figured would take me at least 3.  Every single cell in my body was cursing me for it, but woop woop!  I made it.

It got cold.  Fast.  Layers soaked through with blood, sweat, and tears, (okay, maybe no blood) but thankfully my Indo volcano days prepared me well.  I discreetly switched wet tops for dry ones and had a few extra provisions.  People laugh when they see my pair of small mittens and travel blanket that I swiped from an airline come out.  That laughter quickly turns to envy.  You’ve been sitting still for a while and you’re cold?  Awww, shame.  Who’s laughing now?!  Yeah, that’s right.     

About half an hour of quiet chit chat then the throngs arrived.  For some reason, SL is full of Russians, Czechs, and various groups of Eastern Europeans.  The Russians – oh love a duck they are LOUD. A group of about 6 arrive amidst a smattering of us who were respectfully hushed in this meant to be very sacred place and wow, party on, dude.  Shirts off, (one girl who was thankfully wearing a sports bra was included) yelling, shouting, putting notoriously noisy Koreans to shame.  And then more, and more and more.  Me and my modest Germans exchanged secret glances and head shakes while this small sitting area filled with soon to be shivering sightseers awaiting a magical sunrise.  This is what we came for, isn’t it?   

Nope.  Sun came up because the skies got lighter but all we saw was cloud/mist/fog.  There were a few mountain peaks poking through in spots but nope, not today folks, not today.  *sigh*  That’s okay.  The view is meant to be spectacular, the scenery I took in from the bottom the day before was gorgeous, but honestly, I was pleased enough to have been able to get to the top.  Really.  Even though old & frail pilgrims do it on a regular basis, it was still a small accomplishment for me, view or no view.  I’m learning to appreciate the journey, not just the destination.  A comforting consolation prize.

Going down however, holy frick.  I mean, ow, Wow, OWWWWW!  Toes jamming into runners, legs turned into sewing machine needle pumping, shaking noodles, knees creaking and bones scraping, how is this hurting SO MUCH?!?!  While my lungs weren’t bursting, my body was protesting SEVERELY.  It was a long journey down.  Funniest feeling ever?  Once I finally reached flat ground after all of that, every step felt like my knees were going to buckle out the back of my legs; you know, fold like a camel’s do, the wrong way.  Oh the things that we do.  Worth it. Worth it. Worth it.

A shaky return to pack up and get the heck out of dodge.  Off to the meant to be lovely tourist town of Ella to recuperate and try to repair the damage I have just done.  Thanks Adam, you were definitely worth it.    

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