Monday 23rd February, Mulu: the Pinnacles

Oof, that was quite some tough going.

Up at 5am, started walking in the dark, 300m flat but then ... for 5 hours, up, up, up, at an average 50% incline (YES!!) way below the high canopy, surrounded by jungle trees, ferns, lianas, leaves, mosses, rocks ... and holes in the ground. Very Tricksy underfoot. And the unceasing cicada-bird-frog creaks and squeaks and squalls and melodious calls. No zigzags here, no gently ascending gravelled/levelled pathways with neatly painted symbols showing the direction like in the Western paths I'm so familiar with, just clambering, climbing, stepping, scaling, scrambling, hoicking, dragging, pulling, aching, sweating-gasping-groaning-smiling-hating-loving, practically in one straight line from bottom to top, and ... with an average incline of 80% (so Larry) at the so-called 'danger zone', ladders and ropes, rungs and rings, a proper via ferrata with no safety guards whatsoever: risky indeed ... the last hour to the 'destination' - see video! - the Pinnacles. Eerie, grand, spectacular, on the clouded mountainside opposite. The quietest place so far on our trip! In every single environment here there's always animal sounds or traffic noise or aircon buzzing: this was everso-nearly silent. One 'welcome to the top!' chirrupping bird. That, I loved.

Half an hour break, tuna sarnie, kitkat, apple. And off again, because "most people take longer to go down". And you don't wanna be out after nightfall. (Sunrise and sunset are 12 hours apart near the equator, both at 7).

Rain started, a proper tropical downpour, warm and soaking, soaking. Soaking. And it didn't stop, all the way to the bottom again. I started off really fine on the 'difficult bit' - l Ioved it in fact; it's simple when there is really no choice where to put your feet, and when there are handholds and ropes so you can always have 3 points 'attached'. Feels stable, even if a mistake could have a serious impact. But I began to struggle to move without my back objecting; as on the way up, every step had to be chosen with care, but now doubly in the rain. Some steps small, some large, some angled, some forwards, some backwards, some with a rope to stabilise, some jamming your foot in a crevice on purpose, some by mistake and hard to get it out again! So I got slower and slower, and way before even the halfway point I had to grimace with every step, and I started to have to go mostly backwards, always right foot first. It stabbed-jabbed-slashed into my lower back otherwise, made me feel nauseous, panicky, light-headed, and absolutely absolutely exhausted. This was no fun for any of us! But, however terribly awfully painfully long it took, there is no other way to get down other than to do it step by step. Jus' like life, innit. Larry's emergency provision of a tin of fish and some white rice made a huge difference to my energy level, well done Larry. And on arrival 'congratulations, Anna, you have made it!'. Oh yes, I made it. And will choose physical challenges more carefully, more soberly, in future. And maybe take my exercises more seriously again ...

It's hard to fathom that a 2.4 km walking distance, which would take half an hour on the flat, could require 5 hours up, and - in my case - 5 down. That's what incline and uneven terrain adds to the challenge of mountain trekking! (One young couple the day before us arrived back after dark, after 13 hours.)

Cold shower (no choice), dry clothes (thank goodness), warm food (hooray for Teddy the chef!), sleeping bag (ahhhhhhh) and lonnnnnng sleep. And next day - amazing recovery - I was completely able to walk, as long as it was on the flat and in a straight line! So the 8km back to the boat was easy peasy, even carrying my rucsac. The boat whizzed downstream on the swollen river, so we were back at the lovely Marriott resort in no time.

3 days later my legs still ache like crazy, so DON'T touch them!! And pleeeease no steps up and no steps down. Still can't bear it.

Oof, that was tough going indeed.Read more