Mt. Cameroon

We’re about to leave for a week in Cameroon’s west province, but I wanted to get our post about Mt. Cameroon up first. At 13,435 feet, this active volcano is the tallest mountain in West Africa, and in mid-February Brian led a school-sponsored trip of twelve students and six adults all the way from sea level to the top. We piled into two vans, lashed all our backpacks to the roof, and drove to the town of Buea (pronounced boy-a) in the southwest province.

There aren’t really what you’d call rest stops on the highways in Cameroon, but at every “payage” (or toll pay) people surround your car, selling everything from fresh coconuts and plantain chips to beef brochettes and dried fish.
It used to be somewhat intimidating, but now we love it and always have plenty of change handy.

We spent the first night in Buea and then got up early the next morning to meet our porters and get organized. Here’s a photo of the controlled chaos it takes to prepare for a group this size to climb a mountain.
Finally ready, we had just enough time to pose for a photo…
…and we were off.
The first part of the hike winds through lush fields (note the summit looming in the distance)…
…before heading into the rainforest.

The trail passes several “huts” along the way; we reached this first hut around mid-morning.
Shortly after this stop, the trail opens up into more of a brushy, savannah landscape.

Usually summit trails are carved into switchbacks, so you’re always walking up a fairly reasonable grade, even as you gain elevation. Not so with Mt. Cameroon—the philosophy here is if you want to get to the top of a mountain, then you’d better start walking straight up the side of it. Holy tired calf muscles!
Luckily we had seasoned tuna from the commissary to keep us fueled.
Our students were prepared for anything, too, but in a different way.

This first day's hike takes hours and hours; a few quick photos do not adequately capture it. As you get closer to the first camping area, you see a small tree up ahead. It’s called the magic tree because it always seems to be only a few minutes away, but it actually takes ages to reach. Here we are finally resting beside it.
We felt it warranted a cheesy self-shot.
Looking back down the mountain, you become even more aware of just how steep the climb is. Brian and I did Mt. Kilimanjaro last Christmas, and without a doubt Mt. Cameroon is a much harder hike. Kili takes longer and is significantly higher, but you only hike a few hours each day; on Mt. Cam, you summit and descend in 3 days, but each of them is utterly grueling.

We finally reached the campsite with only a few hours of daylight to spare and got right to work setting up tents and making dinner. Here’s Brian with two of the students waiting for water to boil. As Brian said later, “Who needs comedians? Just watch teenage boys try to cook ramen noodles.”
Sarah and Nick, two of the other chaperones, were happy with the final result, regardless of the ridiculousness during the actual preparation.

The next morning all the adults oohed and ahhed over the beautiful sunrise.
The students were less impressed.

The first part of the second day’s hike was still in the savannah, but the ground didn’t feel soft and grassy anymore, instead crunching and rustling under our boots.
It was another perfect day weather-wise—I can’t believe how lucky we were to not have any rain our entire hike!
Used to eking out a living in this harsh terrain, these flowers were happy about the gentle weather, as well.

Just before the summit push, we took a snack break at the last hut on this side of the mountain.

Then it was just one more long ridge walk…
…and we were at the top!
It’s always fun to be above the clouds.

As soon as we started down the other side, the landscape began to change dramatically.
The loose, ashy rock made for a very quick initial descent.
Here’s a nice view of the moon over some distant hills.
Speaking of the moon, once we arrived at the lava fields, it felt like we were on it!

The back side of Mt. Cameroon is fascinating, with all its varied terrains, but also draining—it feels like the sun is slowly ironing you into the cracked earth. Your sense of time becomes warped, too, especially in these wide-open stretches. When Sarah took this photo of me, I had been hiking alone for about an hour and remember feeling like I was the only living thing for miles—a sensation both exhilarating and unnerving.

Eventually, the grass started getting higher and softer again.
This part of the trail reminded me of something out of The Lion King for some reason.
As we neared the site of the 1999 eruption, the vegetation started to disappear again, and we came to a halt in front of these massive craters.
Such a bizarre, desolate, and fascinating place.

Finally, just when we felt ready to succumb to the sun’s battery, the ash ended.
We had been walking all day and were still a ways out from camp, but the shift to a greener surrounding gave us a second wind.

We arrived even later than we had the evening before, but luckily the speediest students had been there for over an hour and already had most of the tents set up. No one stayed up late chatting that second night—we were spent!

Our last morning was another beautiful one.
I love this photo with the sunrise silhouetting the students as they file over a ridge.
There were a few more lava fields that morning…
…but we soon entered the forest and spent the rest of the descent among the trees.
I didn’t take very many shots as I hurried down the mountain, but I couldn’t resist pausing to admire these flowers.
In addition to time, the other reason I put the camera away was to focus on watching the ground for army ants. Here is Sarah pointing out a line of them.
These fierce little insects swarm en masse towards their food, and they have terribly sharp pincers (I know from experience), so you always have to watch where you’re walking and jump over them.
This is easy with a smaller line like the ones pictured here (as long as you’re paying attention), but there were other points on the trail where ants completely covered the 4-6 feet in front of you. In that case, your only option is to take a series of running leaps, trying to set your feet down as few times as possible, and then stomp your boots like mad to shake off any ants still clinging to your soles. I’m shuddering just thinking about it!

When we finally reached the end of the trail, we hobbled over to a small bar in the village to wait for the last members of the group.
We were too tired to care that our celebratory cokes weren’t cold.
Brian brought up the rear of the group, making sure all the students made it back safely.
Here’s a shot of our guides and porters. Quite the crew, most of them are students at the university in Buea.

We spent the last night of the trip in nearby Limbe. You can tell by the crowded beaches that this is much more of a resort town than sleepy little Kribi, where Brian and I like to go.
After everyone had a chance to freshen up, we all relaxed for a few hours before dinner with the whole group. Although sunburned and blistered, everyone felt proud of themselves…and hungry for something besides dehydrated food.
The next morning we got up early to beat the crowds and took one last walk on the gorgeous black sand before heading back to Yaoundé.
Overall, it was a wonderful, exhausting trip!