Another Fine Mess I've Gotten Myself Into

NOTE: in this blogpost will attempt to point out how I get myself into situations that force me to operate out of my comfort zone. It is in no way meant to disparage the people who got me into the situation- as they had no way to know how I would react to my experience.

Did you ever accept an invitation to something, having no idea what exactly you were getting yourself into, and once you had passed the point of no return realized you were in deeper than you were comfortable with? It happened to me yesterday, and although I am alive to tell the story, if I knew then what I know now, I think I would have been a much happier person this morning having not agreed to go “to the mountains”.

Zhenya and I, before things got rough

A couple of weeks ago Zhenya was in our office. He is a young man who has been part of our English Club on and off for the past 2 years and also an avid hiker and spelunker. I had heard stories of how he and his father would organize excursions to caves near Simferopol and how they would hike and camp on several of the trails around Crimea. He was speaking with Lenara within earshot and she suggested that sometime we should all go “to the mountains.” Then, this week he came back to the library and said that he had a proposition for me…how would I like to go “to the mountains” this weekend? A place called Чатыр-Даг (Chatyr-Dag) which means “tent mountain” otherwise known as the “roof of Crimea.” Well, in retrospect, that sounds like exactly what it was, whereas my mind conjured up visions of a picnic in a park surrounded by mountains, maybe walking in a forested area with a soft floor of fallen pine needles. Hell, I can do quiet picnic in the shade with the best of them, I thought. This was going to be fun! Zhenya called to tell us that we needed to meet the private bus at 5:45am, bring warm clothes, comfortable shoes, 2 liters of water, and two meals worth of food. I got to work planning menus and collecting my goods. My friend Oleg and I went to the bus stop at 5:45 to start our adventure. Lenara was already on the bus.
There were 8 of us plus the driver in the van and it took us about 3 hours to get to the dropoff which was the highest road point between Simferopol and Yalta. We were surrounded by tall trees and there wasn’t much to see or indication of what was to come. The driver asked for a phone call when to meet us and was told that it would not be before 6:00pm. Well at 9:00am, this was going to be a long day. “Let’s do it”, I thought. We all had our gear in packs and set off on a most modest incline. About 10 minutes into our walk I encountered my first challenge- mosquitoes. Lots of them. I mean if you stop for even a few seconds your arms and legs had bugs on them with others hovering looking for a spot to land. I asked if anyone had bug spray and the answer was a resounding “no”. Soon we were moving and the bugs were a little less of a problem when you weren’t stationary. At our second stop- about 40 minutes later there was a spring where you could drink refreshingly cold water. By this time we had figured that it was only Oleg and I that were getting attacked by mosquitoes. I thought about things in my pack and wondered if anything could help me (us). I had a handful of wetnaps in foil packaging…the kind they give you at the restaurant to clean your fingers when you order barbequed ribs. They have alcohol on them and although I was not sure if alcohol actively repels mosquitoes, but I doubted it would attract them. So I figured it couldn’t be any worse. I applied one wipe to my legs, arms, and face. At the next stop I realized that the bugs had all but left me alone. I was calling it a success and I gave a wetnap to Oleg. About this time we hit our first stretch of steep incline during which I strained a muscle/tendon in the back of my knee. It did not prevent me from walking, but I started to feel every right leg step as I took it. Later we made our first real rest break. It was at the bottom of what I would consider a mountain, although the others then, and me now, knew better that it was just a “foothill”. 

Q: Which one are we going to? A: Oh, you can't see where we are going to yet!

During the stop, we did a time check. We had been on the trail for 1½ hours and I asked how much longer to the top- Zhenya said “about 3½ hours”! Oleg (who had never been here before) corrected him and said it was going to be “3½ hours total, so another 1½-2 to go.” Zhenya reiterated and was standing behind his original estimate. 

The calm before the storm- our first real break

After our water we started heading up. The terrain got trickier, looser, and more difficult to navigate. To his credit, it was obvious that I was going to be to last in line and Zhenya stayed back to make sure that I had someone to walk with. We talked and it was nice. Of the eight in the group, some were zooming ahead and others were stopping to enjoy scenery and rest for a moment. It was steep and impossible for me to go forward at a steady pace. I had to take a couple seconds rest after every few steps, just to catch my breath. Eventually, Zhenya and I passed Lenara, Oleg, and Ivan. This was the first time that I was really hoping that at any moment Zhenya would say, “will you look at that, we are here,” but this didn’t happen. It was one of those times where you look up and say, “oh, I see the top” only to get there, to see that there is another incline that you couldn’t see from where you had been. About this time we had passed the treeline and the views started to reward our efforts. We could see other mountains, the city of Alushta, and even the Black Sea from these heights. 

A little hazy, but that is the city of Alushta below

Once we hit the plateau, I was relieved to be standing there, only to have my elation dashed by Zhenya pointing to peaks far in the distance and telling me that those were our final destinations. It seemed impossibly far, and I started to regret my decision to accept the invitation even though it wasn’t like I could turn around now. We pressed on as a group and the plateau was a welcomed soft incline for us. 

The farthest one is where we were headed, of course

The relatively flat plateau

Even with the smile, right around now came the quote: "just kill me now"

Conversations were fun and thoughts of the climb we had just finished faded. We weren’t close enough to have where we were going affect us. Eventually the incline steeped again and we were on the final ascent. At some point Lenara asked about how much further and we were told “7 minutes!” I had done it! I actually hiked to the top of the mountain! Little did I know that getting up was the easy part and that getting down was going to be one of the most harrowing things I have done in recent memory.

Oleg, Zhenya, me, and Sergey at the top

What am I celebrating? I am miserable!

Zhenya and I with Alushta and the Black Sea below

Oleg asked me to take this shot for him

My camera couldn't even capture how far down this drop was. Lenara poses on top.

Once at the top it was windy which made it a little cold. It wasn’t cold enough to put on my warm sweats, but I was a little chilly. We all spread out to get our best views, taking our pictures and asking strangers to take them for us. We found a large pit that was about 6 feet deep and big enough around to fit all 8 of us plus the spread of food. It was our lunch break and in the pit the wind was not an issue. 

Wrapping up after lunch

Lunch...in progress

We took about 45 minutes to eat. I had brought some pasta and chicken salad, while others had brought more of a Ukrainian style picnic with fresh fruits and vegetables, hardboiled eggs and prepared chicken, meat, and fish. We were all offered a cup of hot apple/cinnamon tea brought by our leaders. After lunch, I expected to head back, but the plan was to “have a rest”. We found a spot on the ledge of the peak where we all laid in the grass, talking quietly or resting with our eyes closed. It was peaceful except for the wind.

How to get a sunburn in three easy steps. 1: lie down 2: fold hands on stomach 3: fall asleep

About an hour later we were ready to start our descent which was to go down the other side instead of just going back the way we came. It was around 3:00 and we knew there was another meal break before we saw the van again. It started off fine and fun. My leg was bothering me but still not debilitating. Of course when you start going down you tend to use different leg muscles than you used to get up. We were walking and I begin to think that while having my rest, I may have gotten a touch of sunburn on my exposed skin. Every once in a while I would scratch one of my hours old bug bites only to get stung by the friction of a fingernail across a sunburn. The grass on the descent was long and swaying in unison in all directions with the wind. Eventually though the terrain got as rocky as it was when we were coming up and time-making strides reverted to careful steps to ensure solid footing. As I made my way though, my legs were aching and my mind turned to wondering how much longer it could possibly be before we hit the bottom. It was on this portion of the trek that I strained another part of the innards of my leg- this time on the left side. I was hobbling like a cowboy with saddle rash. My mood plummeting by the second- makes me sad. My mind winds up spending more time cursing myself for accepting the invitation to “go to the mountains” and this makes my interactions with innocent bystanders less than pleasant. Case in point: by the time we get to the next spot for a rest where the footing is a bit more sure, everyone is sitting on a fallen tree. We drink our water and discuss the next leg of the trek. Oleg, however, has been lagging for much of the trip. Not for physical reasons, but it appears that he has his own photo agenda, which is cool- to a point. Everyone knows what they like on their cameras. For some it is pictures of themselves with or without friends. Some like vistas. And for some it is minutiae. So, if you can imagine that taking a photo of a vista is more of a stop, turn, snap and move on process 

This photo taken in 3 seconds flat

while taking a photo of a flower needs a stop, crouch, identify subject, adjust camera, and eventually snap process. 

This one takes considerably longer to snap

This can seem like exaggerated time to people who are waiting for you. During our pit stop, our leader suggests that we stay more or less together because we are entering an area with many trails that an untrained hiker could mistake and easily get lost. However, Oleg is not even there to hear that, because he is off taking photos of the flowers. Several in the group start calling for him, but he is not responding. This angers me more than it should, but I was finding it incredibly frustrating to have him off shooting close-ups of tree blossoms while everyone else had made it to the stop, taken a pee break, eaten a snack, drank water, rested for a few minutes, and discussed the next leg’s plan- and Oleg hadn’t even made it to the stop yet. I was not in a coddling mood to run up to him and quietly plead for him to try to do a better job at not holding the group up, which, in retrospect is what I should have done. Instead, everyone within earshot and beyond, heard my voice and thoughts ring up the mountainside. We walked farther and farther away from the peak to the point that at several points someone would look back and say “wow, can you believe that we were all the way up there?!” It really underscored just how far we had gone.

...and it just kept getting farther away

At one point Zhenya asked us if we could make out a small village “way over there”. A place that was so far away that you weren’t even sure if it was a building or a rock. Well, that is where we were headed. At least that’s what I thought. I mean, the van would be there, right? We walked another hour or so and eventually did make it to the buildings- but instead of the meeting the van, this was just where we decided to set up our dinner. It was in the same place, from all of the garbage on the ground, that many others had had the same idea. By now I am miserable. My legs are killing me. My feet are very sore. I am hurting from the sunburn, nursing some lacerations on my lower legs from the whipping of shrub branches scraping as we walked by them- and I fear that my lunch is not sitting well. I curse myself, for among other things, bringing a chicken salad made with mayonnaise. Everyone eats their dinner which includes cans of sardines packed in oil. The smell assures me a vomit is imminent. Recap: leg muscles, feet, sunburned arms and neck, and stomach are bothering me. After dinner we press on and actually start walking along asphalt. I feel we are close to civilization! We have road AND buildings! Well, it wasn’t to be, because like a mirage before the oasis, the building looks like an abandoned junkyard and the road just leads off into the horizon with no indication of how long we still have to go. Then Zhenya says that we will leave the road now to take a “shortcut.” “I like that!” I told him. At this point the faster to the van, the better. I ask about how much longer we will go and he tells about another hour. Really? An hour?? I don’t know how I can go on for another hour. The path is grassy soft and relatively comfortable even though any pebbles I step on are shooting pains into my feet. 

Just before the "final descent" 

Then I look several yards ahead and see only one of the four people who I know are ahead of me. It is our leader holding a walking stick. He hands it to me and says “Sim, you should take this because the next portion is really dangerous and this can help you.” I respond with “you have got to be kidding me! I already find it hard to walk on flat ground and now you are sending me on a “dangerous” portion?? What about this made you think I would be remotely interested in this hike??” I angrily grabbed the stick and did what Peace Corps medical staff would have cringed to see me attempt; walking down a path that was only a few feet wide with a sheer cliff and covered with either loose gravel or jagged rock. If I was to slip on any of the path I could go down on a jagged rock or go over the side. There was enough brush that I did not expect I would freefall to my death, but this isn’t how I really wanted my day to end. I tried going slow and steady, but the loose stone was impossible to gage in terms of whether it would support my step or not…and a couple of times it didn’t. I caught my balance with the stick (which was an added danger if I was to slip onto it and impale myself). At one moment I started to slip and recovered into another set of loose gravel, I thought for sure I would be going down on my ass, possibly into one of those jagged rocks. Would I hyperextend a knee? Or tear a rotator cuff in my shoulder holding onto the stick? At some point the leader came up behind me to tell me to be careful. I suppose whatever he said would have set me off- but to tell me to “be careful” as my hopes of ending my service without a broken leg were vanishing, only served to make me snap. “Don’t tell me to be careful.” I yelled. “Why don’t you show me how to do it? Get in front of me and show me, because this is terrible and I am trying my best not to die on the way down!” He moved in front of me and I followed as best I could. I had long since had my fill of this hike and the relief when I got to the bottom was sweet, but only lasted long enough for them to tell be that we still had to continue to walk the trails to meet the van. It would be another 15 minutes down a dirt road before we would see the sight for sore eyes, legs, feet, arms, and body in general. I sat numb and quiet on the way home. I offered my thanks for being invited, hoping that no one would ask if I had a good time.  
As I thought about it last night I tried to come up with an analogy for the people who invited me to the hike. Picture this: I invite you to a concert on Saturday. You think, “Hey, I am free on Saturday…sure what the heck?” I pick you up and take you to the concert. Once inside, you realize that you are at a rock concert, which may not be your thing, but you figure you can deal with it in the name of camaraderie. The longer it goes on, you realize that you are witnessing a nine hour concert by the heavy metal band Motorhead. Now, while some people would dream of seeing such a concert (much the same as hikers who climb mountains for fun), the chances that you are one of them is probably pretty slim. When the concert ended you would probably ask yourself, “what about me made you think that I would like this??” You wouldn’t think less of me (I hope) for the invitation, but you would think that this might have been one of those times when the inviter offering more information could have been more helpful than waiting for the invitee to ask the proper questions.
Oleg spoke with Ivan, the leader, and was told that today’s hike was 25km. I would have a tough time walking 25km on a street, let alone up and down a mountain. Note to self: next time someone invites you to “go to the mountain” ask them how they feel about Motorhead.