Blue Mountain Pt. III

The top of the mountain was wide with many spots to take in the views from the four directions. To the North was the coast and in the distance, somewhere in the haze, was Cuba. Directly behind me was the South coast and Morant Bay. To the East were the John Crow Mountains and the once again to the ocean; to the West lay the remainder of the Blue Mountains and in the distance we could see the plateau where Mandeville resides. The whole island was in view and the land around us sat in the shadow of the mountain we had just conquered. To help underscore the moment I put my earphones in and played the soundtrack to Braveheart because well, why not?

The sun continued to rise casting different shades and shadows all over the place; I was taking pictures like it was going out of style and continued to marvel in the fact that in four hours we hiked up a mountain and reached the top while much of the island below us was still asleep. Of course the way I felt, you could have told me it was really 2:30pm and I probably would have believed you.

At the top of the mountain is a rundown concrete hut which people can use for shelter if necessary. It is in bad shape, parts of it crumbling, covered in graffiti and against one main wall are the remnants of fires lit for extra warmth. Many of us changed in to dry clothes that we had brought and hung our drenched items on bushes to dry in the sun. Not too long after some snacking and more pictures it was nap time. Yep, I came all the way up here to take a nap! I was out for 40 minutes and it felt great. My knee was still not happy with me but it was a small price to pay at the moment. For that window of time, I was king of the island and nothing was going to diminish that.

Nothing except for a prolonged and painful descent.

After three and a half hours of enjoying our success we decided to get out of dodge and make our way back down for lunch. Obviously the walk down was easier than the walk up, gravity was on our side and the temperature was climbing quickly. Our path down, which was slippery just a few hours before, had dried out in most places and we were able to snap even more pictures of the trail that we could not see on the way up. I managed to snap a black and white which, to me, looked like a tree offering the orb of the sun to the sky. You can find it in the “Black and White” photo album I have placed online.

By this time my knee was really starting to hurt. Every time my foot came down to support my weight a dull pain surrounded my knee and shot up my leg. It made for a long trek down and for a while, I tried taking steps by swinging my right leg out and around so as to avoid bending my knee. Awkward though it was, it certainly alleviated the pain.

Ninety minutes later we were back at Portland Gap and looking back towards the tops of the mountain, we noticed that a fog had enveloped them all and was coming steadily towards us. After twenty minutes we continued down the mountain amazed at just how steep some of the drop offs were and exactly how close we had come to a perilous fall. We rounded corners which constantly gave way to expansive views of valleys below. Soon we were back at the top of Jacob’s Ladder and walked down the switchbacks towards the bunk house and arrived back at our original starting point in a mere three hours. Lunch was waiting for us (it was the same meal as the night before) and we devoured in record time. They served coffee with it and even though I had 2 cups of it, there was zero chance of me staying awake for anything in the near future.

Back at our cabin I rinsed off the journey with a semi-cold shower. Hot water is something of a rare bird up here, as is water pressure, and I had to make due with what I had. The remainder of the day was spent recounting the journey and playing cards. There was not a whole lot of movement going on. We ventured up to the bunk house for dinner and quickly returned to our cabin for an early bedtime. My knee still didn’t like me.

We woke today for a breakfast we were told would be ready by 9:00am. Upon arriving at the bunk house we discovered that it wouldn’t be ready for another 90 minutes. This is not uncommon in Jamaica and it is one of the hardest things for me, as an American, to get used to. Eager to start our trek back to the other side of the island, we Americans decided to get breakfast on the road, piled into the monster truck and began our trip out of the Blue Mountains. I rode in the back with Emmett and it was considerably easier to take in the terrain and the effects on the truck by standing up and holding on to the roll bar for support. People in houses and towns looked at us quizzically, shouted things in Patois and waved. We waved back only to quickly return our hands to the bar for support. And of course the views continued to impress. Seeing these mountainsides in daylight, not to mention the peak we had conquered helped reinforce just how beautiful Jamaica is. John Crows, which look like a cross between a vulture and a hawk, glided in the air above the valleys letting thermals and winds direct them all over the place with practically no effort from them. I kind of wanted to stay.

About an hour later we arrived in Mavis Bank, gathered the truck we had left two days before and continued down the mountain roads to Guava Ridge, Gordon Town and finally Kingston. A short while later we were on the highway out of town and back to the half of the island we call home. My knee was still not happy with me.

The rest of today was spent crossing the island back to where we began. We have recently arrived home here in Bull Savanna, it’s late in the day, dinner “soon come” and as soon as dinner is “soon gone” it will be time to sleep.

I think I may have left something back at the mountain top. Oh well, I’ll get it when I go back.