Exotic Adventure: Climbing Mount Giluwe (PART: TWO)

Story by Sophia Lee Taylor

AN early start to climb Giluwe. I met Luke before sunrise in the dining room for coffee and food, keen to get the expedition off to a good start. Luke had a calm, at times reserved demeanour, but he knew what he was talking about.

The rest of our team included Joshua, a huge guy with a showbiz smile who declared himself our cook and my personal bodyguard (he had the knife to back this up); Simpson, Stan and Gideon, who we met at the village at the head of the trail into the wilderness.

The day dawned bright as we drove to the trailhead. I was invited to ride in the front seat, and along the way Luke solemnly shouted interesting titbits on the landscape, people, crops and Mt. Giluwe itself. I noticed that when Luke spoke, the others shut up.

Then we got to the village at the head of the trail. I was beginning to see a pattern – everyone was unfailingly polite, a little shy, and wanted to shake your hand. I instinctively liked everyone I met. We greeted people in the village, I thanked them for letting us pass through their village on the way to Giluwe, and they wished us luck. Off we set.

We walked. We left the village and wove through a gully (which I later learned was the conduit for the villages, erm, output).

Simpson (left) and Gideon

We walked up into the jungle. Rainforest. Whatever it was, it had dense foliage, steamy air and had a lot of fallen trees in the way. Three hours of moderate exertion through some of the lushest undergrowth ever. 

We were plodding along at one point when suddenly we came to a stop. I heard “thwack….THWACK….thwack” and looked up to see Gideon attacking a tree which lay across our path with a metre-long bush knife.

At that moment I also realised that he wasn’t the only one armed with a metre-long bush knife. It also sank in that Simpson, a tall bushman with an easy confident grin, was planning on doing the entire hike free of shoes. And that he was missing his right big toe. I wanted to ask, but didn’t.

We walked…and walked….and walked. The jungle gave way to grassland after three hours, and we all sat down and had lunch, enjoying the cooler air.

Whatever I’d been clenching over the last 24 hours was finally beginning to unclench. I realised that these guys gave off very good vibes. I didn’t feel like a girl around them, which is an excellent thing. We simply felt like a team, and a team needs trust to hold together. Everyone helped everyone else, and we all had to look out for each other. It felt good. Worst come to worst, I had the feeling that Simpson – who walked the trails barefoot, carrying far more weight than any of us, far faster than us – would be fearsome against unwelcome outsiders.

Lunch time after emerging from the rainforest

 Of which there were many. The Highlands of Papua New Guinea is home to many different tribal groups. Our route wound through several tribal territories, made evident by the markings on the rocks we passed on the way. Simpson, Gideon and Stan, being from the nearby village, knew which territory belonged to whom and were key to our safe passage.

We marched for another 7 hours. The original route to base camp being closed, we were following a longer route than the usual 6-hour one. With typical trekking pace at 2.5 miles / hour, I’d say we easily covered 20 miles that day. Made for a tiring hike, especially when jetlag started batting me about after 3pm.

 

Near the peak of Mt. Giluwe

 

 Still, we got to Base Camp eventually:

I was still wrangling with my asthma at this point (back with a vengeance after 23 years of dormancy) and opted not to sleep in the smoky shed, warm and dry as it was. I ate with the team though – boiled rice and other good stuff in a big pot directly on a wood fire – and crawled into my damp little tent to sleep. Beasties hummed meaningfully all around in the pitch dark, but after 25 miles you don’t really give a flying one.

Summit day pre-dawn. My alarm went off at 4am for the agreed 4.30am start. Head torch, layers, anorak, hat. It rained and we scrambled into the smoky hut.

Snoring. Only Joshua was awake, looking a little sheepish.

“Luke does not feel well,” he said, indicating the nearest bundle of legs and arms.

It looked like his stomach problems hadn’t cleared up yet, which explained his slower hiking speed the previous day.

“It is raining, so it will be slippy at the summit,” Joshua added, who was making hot water.

Back to the tent. Sleep.

Local porters carrying the bags.

 ·         The writer is the Director of Seven Volcanoes Project in the UK and a former journalist. Seven Volcanoes Project is a bid to raise funds for cancer research by climbing the highest volcano on each of the seven continents in the World. This project is dedicated to the memory of Sophie's father, Anthony Richard Taylor. She has raised over £14,000 for a cancer research from climbing mountains. The next third part of the article is climbing to the peak of Giluwe. Queries regarding this article contact Howarig Traders – Tourism Marketing Agent via email at: howarigc@gmail.com