My first adventure in Oman

(On a side note, soon to come to my blog: A photo album. ooooooo
Another side note. I am still getting used to the formating of this site, so there is alot of white space.)

Now my story of a hike. I now believe that going down a mountain is more difficult than going up! It all began on November 11, 2008. I had backed up a day's worth of food and clothing to take part in the scouting trip for the annual all school field trip. The plan was to camp one night, get up early and descend Jebel Ahkdar. My colleague, Greg, and I left school at 5:30 and a driver took us to a campsite on Black Top Mountain to meet up with our other colleague, Robert, and the guide. The pristine campsite is now adjacent to a new goverment housing building. Good for the people who will get a free house, but unfortunate for the families that have been camping there for years.

The next morning we started our hike at 7:30 am. Our driver and guide had gone down to the villaige to get someone to show us the best route down the mountain. The six of us climbed the short distance to the summit. I immediately felt the elevation change and wished that I hadn't slacked on excersise since I have been here. Our guide, Khaluf, kept asking me if I was okay and telling me, "Breathe, like this." He lifted his arms to his side in a slow motion flapping motion. I assured him I would make it and rested when I could.
When we reached the summit (not far since we had camped close), Greg and Robert's eyes bulged as stood at a cliff. The young man from the nearby villaige pointed down the cliff indicating that the trail was straight down! It took me longer to register that we would be going straight down, no ropes, on loose rock. (mom and dad, you would have freaked out).
Luckly the first leg wasn't nearly as scarey as it looked. Turns out there was a "trail" of somwhat level ground and some good holds. The worst part were a couple of tricky areas with shale. Khaluf taught me that you had to walk fast on the loose rock so you don't fall. It took the entire day to convince me cause when you are on a steep mountain you don't exactly want to go fast.
We stopped for lunch and I could barely feel my legs. I had ripped a hole in the backside of my pants. I welcomed the break for lunch. We all shared our snacks, veggies and cheese with each other.
The next leg of the trip was even harder than the first leg. The holds were farther apart and the mountain was steeper. There was more loose rock. A few times Khaluf had to literally pluck me off one rock and put me down on another. I felt like a little kid being helped by my dad. At this point my self respect was shot. I had thought that the trip would be challenging climb with switchbacks. I was expecting to be tired, but now I felt it would nearly be impossible to make it down. I felt out of shape, my legs were barely functional and I couldn't do it by myself. I kept praying for strength.
Funny thing, strength didn't come as I would expect. Instead I had to rely on Khaluf to help me down the mountain. It was impossible by myself. At one point I slipped and fell on some of the loose rocks. I didn't hurt myself, I just sort of slumped down and started to cry. I have learned when I stretch myself thin I cry. Khaluf told me not to think about the mountain or the difficulty in the task we had to do but to tell myself I was happy. Slide down a rock, see no problem, I am happy. Scale the mountain, see no problem, I am happy. Actually this worked. I even started singing "It is well with my soul" to myself. Then I began to think of a book I will write when I am 50, entitled "An Amatuers Field Guide to Life: A spritual mountain Treck." It will be a comedy with dramatic relief.

Then about an hour later, there was a REAL TRAIL. One we could see. I wish I had a video of my making my way down the switch backs. Hilarious. I could now see the happiness of the situation. I had to walk very slowly since my legs were beyond dicfunctional and now were sore along with my feet and ankles. Then I was about 1Km from the end of the trail and an older gentleman from the village past Me on the trail. He had come from the gardens at one of the bases of the peaks. The villagers plant their gardens wehre the water from the mountian drains. I think that he made some comment to the men I was with about making me do such a hard hike or something. He was chuckling as he teased Robert and Khaluf (I think Greg was alreay done at this point).

When Khaluf and I finally reached the wadi, the flat, very flat last leg of the trip. He said, "See are you happy?" I was. Although to exhausted to show it really, but I was. I might have hugged him because I was happy. We reached the villaige of Hal Hal, Robert, Greg, and our driver was there to greet us with seven other men from the village. they had brought us dates and coffee, a common Omani hospitality snack. One of the men yelled as he saw me approach them, "Look, strong woman!" Hee, hee. Thanks.

All in all it was an experience I would never had done if I knew what I was in for. An even though it has taken five days to be able to walk normally again, I am glad I went.