Sleeping on rock is no more comfortable than the dirt of the last few nights. Christi and I have had no opportunity to wash our bodies, which are now rife with sweat, dirt, sun block, and Deet. And no organic matter including human waste can be left on Roraima, hence one has to evacuate into a bag, which is then carried down the mountain again – by someone other than me, thank god! Perhaps for these reasons Christi elects not to go exploring today, preferring to relax and read at our hotel.
Even the gung-ho Keith and Dan prefer an easy day, so the 8-hr round-trip visit the Triple border marker is aborted in favor of a more relaxing hike to the Guacharos crevice on the south wall of Roraima. The area is home to a colony of oilbirds. Ricardo begins the hike like a man possessed and Keith, Dan, and I struggle to keep up. We splash through surface water, walk over jagged sandstone outcrops, jump from boulder to boulder, and make our way between the maze of labyrinthine formations that dominate the endless bleak landscape. Many of the colorful flowers on the summit are actually carnivorous, trapping insects to supplement the meager nutrients available on Roraima. Ricardo does not dawdle, however, and while I stop to photograph the stunning vistas or beautiful flowers he and the others continue hiking and soon disappear from view. The beauty of Roraima would quickly change into a menacing environment without a trained guide like Ricardo. I temper my photographic ambitions, therefore, in favor of keeping up with Ricardo.
We reach the crevice in 90 lung-busting minutes and down below on the shelves of the vertical cliffs noisy oilbirds go about their business free of predators. The crevice is a major invagination into Roraima, but so deep and precipitous that it’s impossible to see the bottom. We stop for snacks and a few photos before Ricardo is off again, this time to explore a little of the extensive cave network that exists on Roraima. We enter (our headlamps on) and scramble over rocky sandstone boulders, the dark impenetrable after only a few feet, until we reach a large chamber and waterfall. Keith uses some fancy flash equipment to take photos and then it’s the crazy return journey to our hotel, which leaves me exhausted. We’re back by lunchtime with a plan to visit ‘the window’ on the north wall with scenic views (if there are no clouds) in the afternoon I decline the offer even before the clouds close in, content to have an easy time of it, especially with a long hike back to the Tek river tomorrow. Roraima has one final gift in store for us, though a sunset through the clouds which is the equal of any on the journey so far – magnificent. We go to sleep content and privileged.
Blog post by Roderick Phillips, author of Weary Heart – a gut-wrenching, heart-wrenching, laugh-wrenching tale.
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