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Maiko awoke crankier than when she went to bed the night before. Again, she questioned herself about why she is acting like a pouty teenage girl. Then when she found herself in the Pemón village of Paraitepui thinking about hiking for days across a savanna, through jungles, and climb a mountain she realized how ludicrous the way she is behaving toward Hreidmar really is.
The village of Paraitepui has not changed in centuries with its squalor and thatched roof huts seeming out of place to her in a modern world. The village sits on high ground with both Mt. Roraima and Kukenan-tepui in the distance. The vast savanna before her rolled out and away from her for miles stretching off into the distance. She let her gaze drift back toward Kukenan-tepui enjoying the view provided by the mix of clouds and blue-sky making such a picturesque sight before her.
Registering at the checkpoint proved easier than they thought the government officials never questioned them on the veracity of their credentials. Their guide quickly organized their porters all loaded down with supplies and tents they soon set out on their arduous journey. Some cross-country excursions start relatively easy but invariably become very hard and this adventure has all the makings of being one of those.
The terrain they are now crossing consists of rolling hills covered in grasses, multicolored flowers and wooded valleys mixed in for good measure. Wild life here is abundant and none of them were prepared to see grass snakes on the trail before they hardly got started. After they crossed these hills, the trail opened to a long stretch of open grassland or savanna that stretched on for miles. In the distance they could see Mt. Roraima and Kukenan-tepui with Kukenan the closer of the two with white fluffy clouds around them heralding wet days to come.
After about four hours of endless hiking, they crossed a shallow stream with massive boulders from a long-ago landslides set haphazardly in place as if picked up and thrown to the ground. Their guide hurried them across explaining later that random flash floods from heavy rains further up the creek swell the stream quite quickly making the crossing dangerous. They certainly did not want an unexpected wave of water rushing past them knocking them into one of the large boulders lying in the middle of the stream.
With no rest in sight, they continued for an hour crossing another stream finally making camp for the night. The bugs were driving them crazy, between mosquitos, and what their guide called puri-puris it is going to be a terrible night. The puri-puris were especially nasty they would spit a skin dissolving liquid on their skin that itches and blisters for weeks afterward. When he told them that bit of news, they kept the bug repellant on without argument. Once they had a fire going they ate their food from their packs, rolled in their ground blankets and tried to sleep. It turned out to be the worst night imaginable for them; heavy sheets of rain drenched them flooding their camp thoroughly soaking everything. Fortunately, the rain passes very quickly through the area but on the downside leaving the air laden with moisture.
Exhausted from their first day of hiking and the lack of sleep from the night before and now the soaking rain they barely spoke to one another mostly good morning and a couple forced smiles. Thankfully, their extra clothes are safe and dry in their waterproof packs they carried. The guide had them leave their wet clothes on because shortly they would dry then become sweaty from humidity that followed the rain. Even tired, dirty, and sweaty they still could appreciate the beauty around them; tropical flowers are in bloom, birds, snakes and frogs are in abundance.
They had been walking steadily uphill through jungle growth, boulders, and slippery paths for hours before their guide called a halt. They would camp here for the rest of the day and after a good night's rest, they would attack Mt. Roraima in the morning. The area they were in had enough flat areas to set up tents so the guide had the porters set them up and with plenty of fresh water they cleaned up and changed their clothes feeling a little better about themselves. As dusk came, their guide brought their attention back toward Paraitepui and they were amazed at how beautiful Kukenan-tepui is in the twilight. It is no wonder the native Pemón call the tepui the house of the gods the view of Kukenan-tepui is astonishingly beautiful.
“Beautiful isn’t it Hreidmar?" Maiko asked walking up next to him.
“Not as beautiful as you look to me right now,” he said gently taking her hand in his. That did it, that one little loving statement from a giant of a man sent her screaming over the edge of the cliff. Hitting the rocks below she knew that deep in her heart, she is in love with this man and finally after torturing herself for days she admitted it to herself. Her heart filled with love for him and it felt wonderful.
“Hreidmar,” she said quietly looking up at him as he looked at Kukenan-tepui in the distance.
“Yes Maiko,” he replied equally quiet turning his gaze toward her.
“I love you.”
“I love you too,” he replied both looking back toward Kukenan-tepui in the distance.
The camp woke the next morning and made ready for the climb to the top of Mt. Roraima. The porters would stay with the camp and wait for them to return because there is shelter on top in one of many caves they would find there. The top one of the oldest geological formations on Earth is a mass of wind, and rain carved gullies and gorges with peculiarly shaped rocks and caverns. They looked up toward the top of the tepuis Roraima and wondered how they are going to reach the top of the monster looming before them
After a short distance, they crossed a creek then started the long climb upward. The terrain they are passing through is jungle covered rubble filled slopes that make it difficult to manage the ascent but the beauty of a forest of ferns, trees; beautiful orchids and dazzling butterflies make all the effort worthwhile. After almost two hours of exhaustive climbing, they finally reach a small milestone, the base of the cliffs. Inundating the area around the base of the cliffs is broken and crushed boulders with sparse jungle growth struggling to grow crushed between the rocks. The trail branches to the left at his point running parallel to the enormous cliffs and after a brief rest, they push on deeper into the dense but beautiful jungle shrouded in clouds. Walking among the clouds felt strange to them, and the cool air they provided was very welcome after the heat they have endured already. Suddenly, making it even more surreal, a brief shower quickly deluged them thoroughly soaking their already damp clothes.
Struggling through the dense jungle, they finally reached the higher elevations where the jungle thins offering a spectacular view of a massive cliff made of quartzite called "The Wall". The wall is composed of compact granular rock mostly of quartz and derived from sandstone by the earth’s heat and pressure. They continued up the trail as it meandered up then down to come upon a particularly steep decent underneath a waterfall that soaked them yet again. After the waterfall, the trail began to head steadily upward becoming more arduous the farther they went. The mountain climbers could feel it in their legs, straining their muscles with each step trying to keep up with their guide who effortlessly moved quickly ahead. They finally reached a point in the trial the guide called “The Ramp”. The ramp is a winding but continuous uniform slope that meanders between lichen covered rocks blanketing the landscape. By the time, they reached the top they were too tired to realize they had actually made it to the top of the majestic Mt. Roraima.
Games of the Powerful Page 53