Rubber Legs Not Lubber Legs

As we ventured further south in Belize, the landscape of mainland became more and more mountainous. Victoria Peak, a 3675 ft (1120 m) peak, rising sharply with its prominent summit jutting out high above the surrounding mountains, immediately caught our eye. Not having climbed, or much less even seen, a mountain for may months, we became fixated on climbing it.

Victoria Peak

Due to Belize’s geography and weather patterns mainland access is quite difficult by boat. The winds at this time of year come predominantly out of the north and the east. Most of Belize’s coastline lies exposed to these wind directions. Even though the large barrier reef to the east shields the mainland from most of the ocean swell, during periods of moderate or high winds the coast can still be exposed to rolling waves. (The barrier reef lies several miles to the east of the mainland coast, allowing several miles for swells to build up and develop.) We needed to find somewhere protected from swells and from theft, where we could safely leave the boat on anchor for a few days. After spending a number of days in Placencia, we discovered we had found such a place. We had met an excellent and supportive community of cruising sailors and found a couple that agreed to keep an eye on our boat and on Squeak for us for a few days. We also decided to leave immediately after a norther had passed through, maximizing our chances of calm weather before the next norther decided to rear its ugly head. We did not feel comfortable leaving the boat and Squeak for more than 3 days (2 nights), so we would have to travel fast and light. Victoria Peak lies in the Cockscomb Basin Jaguar Preserve. To access the park, we needed to take a bus from Placencia to a town called Maya Centre. From there the park entrance lies 10 km by highly eroded dirt road. Being too cheap to pay for a taxi and not having the time to walk, we decided to bike into the park. We had only one bike aboard Chandrika, but were able to buy a beat up old mountain bike in Placencia, so we now each have one to ride. We were ready to begin our attempt at Victoria Peak. We awoke at 3:30 in the morning. After eating breakfast, we piled both bikes, two large backpacks filled with camping equipment and provisions and ourselves into our 8 foot plastic rowing dinghy (with a rated 450 lb maximum weight capacity) in the dark. It was a bit of a delicate balancing act, but we arrived at the dinghy dock with all of our supplies in one trip. We left our dinghy at the fuel dock. Our friends, Susan and Gary on Pacifico would be borrowing and looking after our dinghy while we were gone. Their dinghy and outboard engine had been stolen from behind their boat one night while at anchor in Placencia. We caught our 5:30 am bus to Maya Centre, which ended up leaving at 6am. We were able to take our bikes on the bus without any trouble. After arriving in Maya Centre at 7:30, we hopped on our bikes and began the journey into the park. The bike riding was absolutely exhilarating! The dirt road was quite rocky and full of potholes and other obstacles. It also would rise steeply and then drop down quickly, allowing for some very exciting and adventurous mountain biking. It was made all the more thrilling for Graham, who rode the second hand bike we purchased in Placencia. It only had one gear and it had pedal breaks, only allowing him to break with the rear tire. The large backpacks only added to the challenge. Halfway through our 10 km bike ride, it began to pour. There is a reason the forest here is called rainforest. We very quickly became completely drenched. The rain had permeated through our Gortex rain-gear. But...at least it wasn’t hot! Despite the weather, we enjoyed the lush sounds of the forest with its beautiful bird song melodies. When we arrived in the park at the Victoria Peak trailhead, we hid the bikes behind some thick vegetation and locked them to a vine. We began hiking. It was still raining, but since we could not get any wetter, it really did not make much difference. The first 12 km of the trail was gentle and pleasant hiking, which led us through thick luscious forest full of tropical plants and birds. We only saw one group of 3 hikers on their way out of the park. Otherwise we would see no other people during our hike. The rain made the trail very muddy and slick, but since it was fairly flat walking, it was not much of a hindrance. After hiking 12 km, we arrived at Camp 1, which had a simple thatched roof structure (with no walls) and an adjacent pit toilet. Having only 3 days, we decided to push on towards Camp 2, the site of another thatched roof structure located at km 19.

jungle ferns

Camouflaged Evolution

Soon after leaving Camp 1, the trail began to rise and fall more steeply. By km 15, the elevation changes were becoming increasingly steep and exhausting. Hiking uphill, we would have to grasp onto tree limbs and vines to prevent ourselves from sliding down the wet and muddy slope. As soon as we arrived at the top of the incline, we would look down at an equally steep and slippery descent. We climbed in all about 10 of these hills only to descend to the same elevation at which we’d started. Furthermore, the signposts that marked each kilometer were getting further and further apart. We realized that this was not due to our fatigue, but due to the fact that the signposts marked kilometers according to their GPS position. It was one kilometer “as the crow flies” between signposts, even though the trail took numerous bends and undulations. It took us longer to hike the last 7 km between camps as it took to hike the first 12 km. We arrived at Camp 2 at 17:30 completely exhausted. We had been biking and hiking for 10 hours. Because of the wet and soggy shoes, Sue’s toes were covered in numerous painful blisters. From all of the steep ups and downs, her knees were throbbing. A few days later, Sue’s big toenails would turn bright purple and almost fall off. With the lack of use on the boat, our legs had turned to rubber unlike those of a landlubber. We made dinner and set up camp. Because of the presence of the thatched roof huts at each camp, we did not bring a tent for shelter, but instead hung mosquito netting, which we slept underneath.

Waterfall at Camp 2

We awoke at dawn. Our original plan had been to hike to the summit of Victoria Peak and then descend back to Camp 2 on our 2nd day. On our 3rd day, we had planned to retrace our steps, hiking out the “19” km and biking back out to Maya Centre. We had only brought food for 3 days and the cruisers watching our boat were expecting us back on Day 3. We were unsure of the total distance we still had to hike to reach the summit of Victoria Peak; however, we knew that it would be a very steep ascent involving a climb up a fixed rope through a narrow and wet gully. The entire rest of the route would follow a soggy vertical creek bed. Due to the extremely wet conditions of the day prior, we were unsure if the ascent would be dry enough to be passable. The rain had lifted during the night and we had awoken to a clear sky, improving our chances. Over the years, we both have learned to listed to our bodies, and this was one of the rare occasions where we did not ignore what our bodies were telling us. It is after all about each footstep and the pleasure of the journey and not the achievement of the summit. We spent the hiking back to Camp 1, where we spent the night. On our 3rd day, we hiked back towards the park entrance and our bikes. As we got closer to the trailhead, we began to see more and more human footprints. Among those were prints that appeared to be of a hoofed animal, or so we thought. As we walked, the prints became more legible, and they looked more like those of a large dog. We found our bikes, and while we were unlocking them, we heard a strange noise that sent shivers down our spines and froze us in our tracks. It could be nothing other than the sound of a very large and angry cat. The only cat in the park large enough to make such a deep and ferocious sound is the jaguar. You could literally hear the cat breathing. As the cat exhaled, it sounded like a roar and with every inhalation was a deep purr. We could see no further than a few feet into the thick jungle, but the cat sounded as if it were within a hundred feet of us. To avoid being seen as a fleeing target, we walked the bikes instead of riding them. Eventually we noticed that the roars and purrs overlapped. We kept walking and then there was a dead eerie silence. Even the birds of the jungle had gone silent. Now we were scared, so we just walked...quietly. When we arrived at the park headquarters, we saw the ranger. He confirmed that the sounds we’d heard were those of two jaguars meeting, exhibiting a characteristic competition for dominance. We asked the ranger if jaguars and dangerous to people. He answered, “Typically no, but when meeting they can be.” We hopped on our bikes and headed out on the dirt road towards Maya Centre, where we caught a bus back to Placencia. January 2008