The trek to camp 2

I had jettisoned my umbrella back at camp 1. I might regret this once we reached the savannah but all I could worry about at this point was getting through the jungle and that cursed umbrella had made a liability of itself snagging on anything I passed. As Ivan had advised, I also put one trekking pole away. I removed the basket from the pole I used as this too had proven susceptible to tangling in the brush. 

Having made a critical evaluation of my performance the prior day, I decided to fortify my water with Cytomax. It seemed plausible I had been shedding electrolytes too rapidly to compensate by other means, thus exacerbating the fatigue. The Cytomax would help with this. Lastly, I resolved to become better at walking in my rubber boots. I focused on where I stepped, chose where to plant my trekking pole, and used my free hand to grab exposed roots or tree limbs (also a tip from Ivan). I realized that better footing than the person in front of me had chosen often existed if I was searching it out. For the first time since the age of two, walking was complicated and challenging, offering risk and reward, worthy of one's best efforts. The dividends paid immediately. I fell much less. I also did no wast precious energy flailing to arrest stumble when traction quit me. It was still difficult, but things were going much better. 

We passed through the clear cuts and into jungle, over several steep hills, eventually descending down to the place where Dori had fallen the day before. The Porters had already built a better bridge replete with handrails. It was a touching gesture that said more than could be communicated with the sparse words we shared. Many of the Porters refused to pass us on the trail this day. It had been exhausting for them to be so fat out ahead of us the day before and have to turn back. They were taking no chances. 

I was glad to press on into new trail. There was redemption of a sort in knowing Dori would be alright and those of us who remained could focus on what lay ahead. Ivan had been right; the jungle trekking was going much better for us the second day. Though taxed, I felt capable. The times I did fall or stumble I gathered myself up and continued immediately. I had accepted that these and many other low speed collisions were part of handing life over to the jungle. Dan seemed very tuned into how we were doing. There were regular hydration stops each hour. Even thought these were typically only 5 to 10 minutes the effect was meaningful. If we scaled a particularly steep hill Dan would call for a three minute breath at the top. The Team was moving well and a playful banter emerged. Ivan broke out in spontaneous verses of the "Guns and Roses" song Welcome To The Jungle. Carol would offer the occasional Silver fox howl. Pal told clever Norwegian jokes. We were working very hard, but our collective spirit had coalesced and would not be denied. Everything was once again possible.

We lunched at a place in the river where a small pond had been built for gathering salt deposits leeching from the rock face next to it. The Porters and their families were already gathered there when we arrived. They were lounging about the rocky flowered terraces next to the rapids, eating strange fruits and a radish-like root they had floated in the salt pond. One mother was nursing her child and did not seem to mind that she was in plain view. Pal, as much physician as mountain climber, smiled to witness such a timeless human ritual. Though he lives a demanding professional life as head of cardiology at the hospital he works at in Tromso, Pal does not take himself too seriously. He could be clownish one moment and remarkably insightful the next. The children in our expedition quickly sized Pal up for an easy mark, extracting regular sweets from his willing hands. 

We arrived at camp 2 after 9 hours of trekking. We had ascended 4,000 vertical feet and descended 3,000 for a net gain of only 1,000 feet. Our pace averaged less than 1 mile and hour, yet felt like a victory.  

Click on this video to see lunch at the salt pool.