SED Artist

Cloud Hunting

Annoyingly, I write about hiking as I am lying vertical in a hostel in Ho Chi Minh struggling with food poisoning or a stomach bug. I had big plans for food today so can’t say I’m all that pleased, although I can’t help but enjoy the bed arrest. Early start to get another bus in the morning, this time to Cambodia ! But until then, here’s my take on hiking.

The best hikes are those that humble you, make you happy and make you hungry.

A good hike will always remind how small you are in the grand scheme of all that is natural and beautiful, but it will humble you as belonging within it. You too are a natural being and in this habitat you tend to remember it the most. Serenity washes over you and your worries, and it grounds you to the present. Everything on the trail that has passed before you and that shall pass after you somehow all exist within the same moment of pure and peaceful joy. A hike is always tough, mentally, physically, or both simultaneously.

In my mind, hiking is a place for peace of mind, spirit and body.

Here are some of the happiest, hungriest and most humbling hikes I have done.

Starting off strong with the most difficult one I’ve done so far, Mount Toubkal, highest point of the North African Atlas Mountains in Morocco. The peak stands at a whopping 4.167m above sea level.

The hike lasted 6 days through the deserted mountains, where we hiked between 9-13 hours a day, finishing on a horribly long 17 hour hike down on the last day. The climb took us so long because we had to acclimatise, and our guide was thoroughly encouraging us to pace ourselves, a lesson I have greatly appreciate for the hikes I have done since, although not one I have always applied. It was such an intensely magical experience. That week, the mountains belonged to us. The whole time, we encountered only one other group of five who were on a similar trajectory.

Honestly, it felt like I was on Mars. The Earth was so dry and after the first day or two, nothing but tumbleweed was to be found. In retrospect, this is rather unfortunate when you run out of toilet paper and there isn’t a green leaf to be found…

Most nights, we camped. The first night actually was horrible, there was a massive storm and it rained hard the entire night, shaking out tent to its core. I don’t think I’ve ever heard something so loud. We didn’t get a wink of sleep. On two of the nights that followed, we stopped at little villages where we were graciously fed and accommodated. The food we were served by the locals was always phenomenal and it felt so luxurious to get to sleep in a bed and shower. Sadly, these villages were close to the epicentre of the earthquake last year.

On the last two days, I thought I wouldn’t make it. By hour 9 on the second to last day I had to be pulled up the last 200 metres by our Sherpa. As an angle seemed to take his place, he pulled out white bread, kiri and sardines, which were without a doubt the most enjoyed sandwiches I’ve ever had. Circumstantially of course.

On the last day, we woke at 3am to get to summit before sunrise, which took us about two hours. Then, we made our way down the entire mountain in a day. To say it was hard in the knees is an understatement. I could barely feel my legs. It was humbling, it was beautiful, it was out of this world, and it was the hardest and best hike I have done to this day.

Now, my second choice.

Honestly I think it’s a fifty-fifty between Mont Valier and Half Dome. I have to choose Mont Valier, not for duration of hike nor mental strain, but how hard it was physically.

The Mont Valier is my home town mountain and comes close second to the highest peak in the Pyrenees, losing by 39 metres. I can see it from my window; it sits right there, across the river, the road and the foothills, standing at a height of 2.838m.

I’ve only hiked its summit once, and I did it with Solen. If I remember correctly, we completed it in about 8 hours, including breaks. Our pace was everything but ‘paced’, his average probably doubling mine, leaving me at a walk which closely resembles a polite thank you run when a car lets you cross the road. Exhausting. When I had done it I actually think I classified it as harder than Mount Toubkal simply because of the intensity of it. Thank goodness this is France though and we had successfully bagged the yummiest sandwiches of the area to eat at our midway point.

Okay, maybe we ate them way before our midway point but we were so hungry and I had used up way more energy than my body alone could provide. Funny thing is though, when I’m done writing this I’m most likely going to text him and ask him to do it all over again. Add in a couple more friends and give or take a couple of hours. Actually not take, just give. There is no way I am running up that thing again.

I genuinely gave up at one point. We were past the summit base camp and had maybe an hour and thirty left to the top. I was in direct sunlight at 1pm and I was clambering at that point, this was not longer a walk. The trees had disappeared and ropes had taken their place on the sides of rocks, which I was supposed to cling to get from one spot to the next. Solen naturally went in without me when I decided to give up. I stopped for 20 minutes before feeling unfulfilled and disappointed. Stopping so close to the top felt ridiculous. I also could not let Solen go and be the only one to complete it. We had started together so I wanted to finish it together. Make one experience from it, not two seperate ones. So, I got up and I did it. I’m surprised I didn’t cry. My legs hurt so much and my lungs felt like they had shrunk to the size of dried prunes. I kept stopping, but, I made it.

It was so worth it! My favourite view in the world; most likely because it’s my view of home and all that extends beyond it. It was jaw dropping honestly. The Pyrenees are the best mountains in the world, they too are humble. They spread out in every distance along the horizon and change colours with the weather and the seasons. They will always surprise you..

The way down was worse. It never ended. One hour to go and it felt like I would never be able to walk again. Solen charged onwards naturally. When I got back he has asleep in the back of his van. I joined him for a snooze. One little nap later and we were back on our feet, into the car and back home eating saucisson and crisps and watching the sunset. It doesn’t get much better than this.

Okay, Half Dome next. For those of you who don’t know, half dome is in Yosemite and is considered one of the hardest hikes in the U.S. Although it isn’t the highest, it is definitely the most impressive. Standing at 2.694m, the peak is a magnificently large rock jutting out from the surrounding mountains. It can be hiked on one side and climbed on the other. We hiked, naturally.

We started the hike around 10pm, in the pitch black. Headlights on, backpacks stuffed with snacks and jumpers, we head off into the darkness. Starting off nice and easy, the path is one that breaks off into two or three different hikes. We start via the Mist Trail and continue upwards. Initial pace was optimistic. There was 10 of I think, and it was nice to walk up as a group, switching up walking partner every now and again depending on everyone’s energy levels. After the first hour, we learnt to pace ourselves and took enough breaks.

It was long, but intensity levels were at an okay level. The hardest bit was the end, the part where it feels like you’re climbing massive rock steps for a little while before getting to the scary bit. The scary bit was definitely scary. It’s the most dangerous part. Ropes and wooden planks have been added to the rock face in a set up resembling train tracks. You’re supposed to wear gloves and hoist yourself from one plank to the other using your arms. The planks are too far apart to be steps, and you would most likely have to do 5 to 10 steps on the slippery rock face before getting to the next safety plank. Turns out, as a group, this is not fun. When someone stops, others get stuck in between planks, leaving them grasping on for dear life with their arm force. Encouraging the one ahead is crucial really; if one slips and falls, you take out all the ones behind you and fall straight off the cliff.

But, we made it to the top, and although that part was hard, it was just the end bit of the climb rather than the entire thing being a challenge, which is why I am not putting it up as the hardest one. Short bursts of effort are far more mangeable than hours or days of continuous effort. We got to the top at around 4am and tried to sleep in the most freezing wind, all huddled together like a pack of sheep, until the sun came up. When it did, it was tremendous. The entirety of Yosemite spreading out below us in the glow of the early morning sun.

Now, two last ones. I’ll keep them short.

Le Bouirex. A large foothill I have become a regular of. One that Matteo, Solen and I have upgraded as our sunset mountain when we’re feeling tough. Although Le Bouirex does not quite reach the heights of a mountain, it stands at a cute 1873m above sea level. The speciality of this hike is not the altitude, but rather the steep climb and the 360view which waits for you, unscathed, at the top.

Come rain, sun or snow, you will never be disappointed by your time spent up there.

The steep ascent feels like climbing stairs for an hour. Depending on the weather, your fitness levels, your mood, or if you’re with tremendously fast friends, it might take you between 45 minutes and 1h30 to climb it. Coming down can be hurried up by running the last 200 metres where it flattens out a little, something I only consider enthusiastically when the sun has set, leaving me in the pitch dark with fast friends way ahead of me.

This is the most beautiful accessible view point where I live, it doesn’t take too long and it’s more than worth it. Alone or with others it’s just the nicest feeling when you’ve done it. Its beauty is surreal and I will always continue to be left in awe as I reach the top. Naturally, snacks or a sandwhich at the top, or a yummy supper afterwards, are one of the exciting prospects of this hike.

Lastly, and the reason I wrote this blog in the first place, whilst is because of the hike Liv and I just did in Da Lat, Vietnam.

Although not particularly high, nor long, it had its moments which left us breathless and we enjoyed it so much ! Called Lang Biang, it stands at 2.167m above sea level and lies amongst the coffee, flower and strawberry plantations, which is what Da Lat is famous for.

The hike took us 3 hours, excluding rest time, and the last 750 metres were the hardest. They had built steps into the steep pathway which were uncomfortably far apart and required a big push to get onto the next one. My legs were burning, and it was very hot ! We did luck out on the weather and it got cloudy, which cooled us down significantly, but means we missed out on beautifully clear views at the top.

We nearly got lost on the way up as multiple pathways split off the initial one, and our SIM cards had run out, leaving us completely alone. Luckily, we had read that it was just ‘up’ all of the way, so we took our chances and headed up the steepest ones. We got there ! Ended the hike feeling tired and hungry which was just the feeling we were after. Someone in a restaurant later that day told us that doing that hike was called ‘could hunting’ because of the vast changes in weather at the top, and I think that’s my favourite term about hiking so far.

As a conclusion of this blog, I think I’ve realised just how perfectly a sandwich complements a humbling hill and a hard hike. A sandwich or any other food of course, but the sandwich hikes seem to always stand out as my favourite.