Andringitra National Park:

It was a two-hour drive from where we met the guides in Ambalavao to the trailhead. Two hours along the worst dirt road I had ever seen, during my stay in Madagascar or otherwise. All our food and gear was packed into the bed of the Nissan frontier with a foam topper as first-class padding for all five of us to squeeze together. (insert photo) from right to left: Jessica, Laetita, Loïc, Elaine, me) it’s a good thing there were hand rails on the sides of the truck because there were many times the truck was tilted 45˚ to either side, it was a little tricky to stay on the truck to say the least.

Basically, during the trip, we climbed the second tallest mountain in Madagascar in three days, swam in the mountain springs, saw chameleons, indigenous birds and butterflies.

I love going up, so climbing up to Mt. Boby was pretty easy for me, at least until everyone else ran out of water and my remaining liter practically evaporated, I couldn't even find the bottle! (I'm not sure why they didn't fill up their bottles that morning or at the midmorning break spot)

Approaching the summit

Being the fastest hiker in the group, and all the faster in my attempt to find water and rehydrate, I got to the lunch spot by the stream quickest; I grabbed water and set up my hammock next to the river to kick back and relax and then take pictures of people as they arrived. However, it was not meant to be, let’s just say it was a good thing Kaitlyn’s camera was in the case and strapped around my neck. (Mom ;) you might want to skip the remainder of the paragraph) I sat down in my hammock, got out readjusted it, sat down again and CRACK! I did a back flip as my hammock spontaneously snapped in half. I wish the guide that had stayed at the lunch spot and was watching had caught it on video! I’m sure it was an impressive sight.

It was very sad event…that and seeing an airplane while coming down the mountain were the two downers that day. (That was the only plane I saw for the entire month I was in Madagascar, and it was temporarily awesome to be completely removed from civilization.) But at the same time I felt so BLESSED to have an awesome guardian angel. I walked away from the back flip with only a minor cut on my back, but my head came within inches of the massive river rock I had been sitting above. (You’ve got me convinced mom, I will always buy insurance from now on, even if I didn’t end up using it this time.)

The Ridgeline

We crossed at the pass in the left third of the photo

The next step was to climb back out of the valley over the ridge. Why didn’t we just continue along the ridge after descending from Mt. Boby, I don’t know. By this point, the sun was setting over the ridge we were attempting to scale. To give you a picture, imagine steps upon steps upon steps, I thought that my legs would be in pretty good shape after hiking all summer and biking 205 miles from Seattle to Portland last month, but man, Mt. Boby didn’t tire my legs but those stairs certainly did. We finally got to the “top” of the ridge and realized there was still more to go. What we originally thought was the top of the ridge was actually what they call the moon plateau because it strongly resembles the surface of the moon. We passed by a really cool rock in the shape of a cowboy hat,

most definitely a cowboy hat

yes it was completely natural. Here I realized that if we sped up just a little, we might be able to catch the sunset again on the other side of the ridge. Just another half-mile and 30-40 feet of elevation. Finally, we got to the top of the ridge.

Wow.

I have never seen a more beautiful sunset my entire life, and I get spoiled at home with the sunset over the Puget Sound and Olympic mountains. It was the definition of stunning. You could see over at least the next ten ridgelines to a sky that was pink for almost a full 180 degrees around. It was kind of like the sunsets I’ve seen over Greenland in the airplane but because I could see a full 360 degrees, I saw it all of a sudden instead of slowly watching the sun descend and I wasn’t watching through a dirty, tiny window it was a whole new level of surreal beauty.

Unfortunately, we were not done hiking for the evening. Side note: walking by moonlight is very peaceful. We still had another hour and a half of sketchy wobbly steps down into the next valley to camp. MY KNEES HAVE NEVER HURT SO MUCH. About half way down I was praying for even just a small patch of dirt for a change. About a minute and a half later, my heart did a mini happy dance, I didn’t have the energy to actually dance.  Low and behold, I found a small dirt landing. Every 5 minutes or so I prayed for another dirt landing to spare my knees and every 5 minutes I looked up and said thanks. We finally came into viewing distance of the camp fire, and after what seemed like an eternity we finally got to the camp by the river and washed off the day’s sweat. I didn’t know I could sweat going down steps in the dark. I learned at dinner that night, when rice is harvested, a lot of tiny pebbles, in this case also white, come with the grain. In Madagascar, people have to pick out or sift out the pebbles by hand but because there was so little time, it wasn’t done during our hike. Usually there was a pebble in every or every-other bite. I just hope my dentist doesn’t find any holes in my teeth at my next appointment. After some carmelized bananas for dessert I turned in for an early bedtime. I was exhausted after all those stairs. It was probably the hardest day of any hike I’ve ever done for that one reason. I got to brush my teeth with the wild zebu that night as they walked next to our tents. Thankfully they were pretty tired because they can be very aggressive beasts. I get the impression they are similar to buffalo, deceivingly docile until you startle them.

The next day wasn’t as scenic as the two previous, but as we were descending into the valley we approached a small village where approximately 20 children were lined up selling bracelets and necklaces from purple green and blue stones for 1,000 ariary (less than 50¢). Maybe 50 feet behind the last child there was a little girl at most 4 years old with her older sister who was maybe 6 or 7. The little girl started crying when she saw me. Her sister shielded her eyes so she couldn’t see me. I tried saying salama (hi) in a soft friendly voice, at first I thought she was scared of white people, (which isn’t uncommon in the south) but when I brought it up with Loïc and Jessica, they said she also cried when Loïc passed but not when she saw Jessica, her sister Laetitia. It broke my heart when I heard that. No one should have reason to be afraid of men, especially not four-year olds. But what can people in Madagascar or the rest of Africa do? Even in the US women are just starting to come out with the #MeToo movement but in Madagascar you can’t call 911 or child services. To all people who have been victims of abusive men. I’m so sorry. Writing this blog I realize how trivial my original disappointments about the hike were, it was another reminder of how privileged I am to be a white man in the US.

Christina & Enno

After another hour of hiking we caught a ride back to Ambalavao rather than hiking the remaining 4 hours because Loïc busted his knee on the way down the ridgeline the night before. Then we dropped of our German friends at another national park and exchanged emails for photo trading purposes and continued to the hotel to shower before going to our next excursion.