Better.

The High Savannah. photo by Ivan Gomez.

I woke feeling the best I had in days. Though my 9 hours of sleep were interrupted a few times by Denis coughing, the night had been peaceful in comparison to tenting with Pal. Most mornings I struggled to gather momentum after the 5:30 wake up call from Dan. But this day came with such rejuvenation that I emerged from the tent in mere moments, sleeping kit packed and in hand. "I don't have to ask how you are doing. I can tell by what you are holding already," Dan observed. "Yeah. I feel good, rested, and it looks like a beautiful day of trekking," I said with a smile. 

Jamie and Raymond were busy in the kitchen tent making pancakes. They had probably sensed the team was at a low ebb and it was time to put the Mung Beans aside. I ate five plate-size flapjacks and would have eaten more if not for the need to get underway with the days miles. Pal was still fighting his lungs. He stood away from the dining tent hacking and coughing for several minutes before joining us, hand sanitizer in tow. Carol observed the morning meal with dread. I had watched her consume an energy bar the night before, one tiny nibble after another. Each morsel was chewed so long it became apparent Carol was stalling the point where she would swallow.  In the course of force-feeding herself the energy bar, she also drank a liter of water. I have never seen anyone focus so intently on the process of nourishing their body, but Carol understood that no matter how unpleasant they may be, eating and drinking were not optional. Within minutes of finishing she had vomited it all up and gone to bed. Things went a bit better at breakfast the following morning. Carol managed to consume some pancake and water fortified with electrolytes. 

We set out from camp 4 by 7:30am. A nearly cloudless sky stretched out above the open Savannah before us. The trail was firm and unfettered by obstacles of any manner. I remember feeling for the first time that this whole enterprise was "do-able." Modest hills rolled away from us in pleasing folds. I could see sharp ridges in the far distance, silhouetted by the rising sun behind them. It seemed I could see as far as the human eye is capable. Yet Carstensz was still not in sight. 

Crossing the river valley. Photo Dan Zokaites.

In spite of our compromised strength, the team made excellent time through the first half of the day. We crossed through a river valley and began ascending the soggy hillside that would take us to the flat upper plain. Again we were slogging through mud, always looking for a rock or some piece of high ground to step upon. But our reward came as we crested the hill and threw down our packs next to a clear slow stream meandering through the meadow above. Here the ground was firm and dry. We kicked off our boots and sprawled out in the tall brown grass.  Steven said we had made good enough time to take a full one hour lunch stop, a luxury we had not yet known. Several Porter families were already picnicking on the other side of the stream. They welcomed us with waves and smiles. 

We finished our lunch and napped in the warm sun. I woke after 20 minutes and, feeling restless, decided to pass the remaining time standing stones on point about us. It is not so difficult to stand a stone on point. One need only quiet his mind and think in progressively smaller increments.  In this fashion you can create a spontaneous trail-side sculpture which intrigues by virtue of its inorganic placement. 

This was actually in Russia, but you get the idea.

Several tribal members crossed the stream to study my standing rocks, looking all around the stones to see what trick I had used. In the end the stones were all toppled by playful children throwing long blades of grass like spears. 

The afternoon rains tended to come earlier in the day as we drew closer to the mountains. We were still an hour away from camp 5 when the skies turned grey. But the rains held off until shortly after we arrived.  Now at 12,208 feet, the air was much cooler and we all added warm hats and layers. Encouragingly, Carol seemed to have improved modestly. Where she had begun the day pausing frequently to dry-heave at trailside, Carol had finished the day keeping pace with the rest of the team. I even saw her smile. 

I filmed this short YouTube video at camp 5.