Adventure She magazine, March 2019 by Adventure She

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Adventure She March 2019

InThis Issue MINIMISINGRISKS

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Adventure She March 2019

Welcome

Murray's help, when her dog Rolo hurt his paws, during training rides, as they practised for a long distance cycle from the UK to Rome. Yes, she took Rolo the spaniel with her too. After all, when things like navigation goes wrong, who better to comfort a person, than their best friend.

A big huge welcome to all of you. It's hard to believe, but we're already celebrating our first birthday! Yes, it's been a whole year since Adventure She was launched. If you subscribed to our 2018 issues, thank you so much. If you didn't, you can still get oall four of our 2018 issues from the website.

Anna Sargent didn't just travel with her best friend, she went with nine of them., on a canoe trip down the mighty Yukon river. I love this story, for it highlights the importance of proper preparation. How does the saying go, "fail to plan, plan to fail." In other words, proper planning is key to success. That's why we start this issue with a business technique that we can also apply in the adventure world. In fact, risk management is probably more important in the adventure scene, than it is in many a business.

Over this year, we hope to keep improving your reading experience. So if you have any comments or feedback, please do let us know. In our September 2018 issue we focused on fear. In our December 2018 issue, we focused on implementing positive changes. Alas the reality is, that whatever we do and however prepared we are, sometimes things go wrong.

Last year for her 40th birthday, Nicky Gaskell's partner thought she should jump off a cliff. Welcome to the world of coasteering. I bet responsible coasteering businesses carry out risk assessments!

So in this issue, we share several stories where events didn't always go according to plan. Such as, whilst running the length of the UK, Megan Al-Ghailani ran out of food and water,on the hottest day of the year so far! Not something we'd relish. Gemma Smith also found herself in a precarious situation, when she was teamed up with an inexperienced climber on Mont Blanc. Mercifully, she lived to tell the tale. Caroline Murray (who wrote about volunteering at the Mongol Derby in out September issue) is back. This time she writes about her experience as a volunteer vet at the legendary Iditarod. But you know what, as well prepared as the organisers were, things went wrong. But who could have foreseen Caroline falling out of bed and braking her wrist!

Now what would you think about a tall object going down a street and having to manoeuvre around low flying wires? Welcome to the Nyepi festival in Lombok, which Clare Johnston came across when celebrating her 30th birthday, thanks to the very hospitable owner of the guest house where she was staying. I must confess, low slung electric wires are something I'm a tad wary about, then again a former teacher 's husband got electrocuted and died, as a result of accidentally touching one whilst atop a truck carrying hay. Different countries of course have different ways and different facilities. Jade Toft shares the story of how she got around Madagascar, whilst volunteering with the Peace Corps. Annabel

Leila Smith could have done with Caroline 4 Front cover photo courtesy of Aex Thomson

Adventure She March 2019

Norman is another one who writes about when things go wrong with local transport, in her case Nepal. Fortunately for her, whilst taxis / trucks were a bit of an issue, at least she managed to get out of the way of a rather angry looking yak, before it spiked her with its horns. Seemingly accident prone Fran Edmunds, meanwhile takes a look inside hospitals of several countries including Vietnam, Thailand and India. The story is a great reminder to all of us, of the importance of carrying a good first aid kit and knowing how to use it, plus of course, the need for appropriate travel insurance. On occasion though, travels do go according to plan. Liz Phillips planned her hike (on the Great South West Track in Victoria, Australia), with such skill, she even managed to have red wine on occasion. So are we saying that travel and adventure are dangerous? Absolutely, they can be. But, we can mitigate the risk. We can research in advance about a place, we can learn first aid techniques. and we can do courses such as in mountaineering, before heading off to some 6,000 metre peak. Over the page you'll see a short article by me, on how I managed risk when

choosing to travel to Peru, when it was considered a 'not so safe', option. Risk mitigation is also something I've applied when travellling in Pakistan (before 9 eleven), and when kayaking and mountaineering. Bethany Hughes and Lauren Reed recently became the first people to thru hike the Greater Patagonia Trail, which is a huge achievement, plus they recently finished a non motorised crossing of South America from Patagonia to Colombia and on to Panama. They are clearly hard core adventurers. Here though, Bethany writes of trails that are rather tamer these days, the hikes to world famous Machu Piccu, in Peru. We really hope you enjoy this issue and please please, do let us know what you think of the magazine and what we can do to make it better.

Jane Founder and Editor

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Adventure She is published by TNA Consulting Services Ltd, the address of the registered of which can be obtained from Companies House. The entire contents is protected by copyright 2019 and all rights are reserved. Reproduction without prior permission is forbidden. Every care is taken in compiling the contents of the magazine, but the publishers assume no responsibility in the effect arising therefrom, Readers are advised to seek professional advice before acting on any information which is contained in the magazine. Neither TNA Consulting Services Ltd nor Adventure She magazine accept any liability for views expressed, 5 Rights Reserved. pictures used or claims made. Copyright ÂŠ 2019 TNA Consulting Services Ltd. All

Adventure She March 2019

M a n ag in g R isk s Back gr ou n d an d con t ext It was 1992, yes I really am that old, and I was planning a big trip. I worked hard, I saved hard and I read hard. What you may wonder is 'reading hard'? In those days,there weren't many, if any, adventure magazines where I lived. So my reading consisted of the foreign pages of newspapers. That's how I knew to forget going to Algeria and on across the Sahara, for in1992, there was a massive rise in Algerian extremism. That's also how I decided that I could and would go to Peru. Today Peru is a popular country to visit, but not so in 1992 and 1993, when I was there. For in those days, the name Sendero Luminoso, or Shining Path, hung in the air. A guerrilla group, they had wrecked havoc on the country. But the new president, Alberto Fujimori, eleted in 1990, was determined to stamp down on Shining Path. That he did (he's actually now in prison for human rights offences and other things, relating to his time in office). Shining Path's leader, Guzman, was captured in September 1992. After that, the group appeared to lose its strangle hold over Peru. So what does risk management have to do with any of this? Th e Sit u at ion South America was becoming increasing popular as a backpacker destination. Without the crowds of Australia or South

by Ja n e H a r r ies

East Asia, and mostly at peace, provided one skipped Colombia and Peru. Assessm en t The situation in Peru was changing though. Narcotic wars in Colombia meant, it however was not really a place to go, though a few did venture there. Venezuela (oh how things have changed) was supposedly fine. Robbery was the big risk in Brazil. Risk m in im isat ion I bought secret pockets and sewed them on the inside of my clothes, next to existing pockets. I always carried some cash, travellers cheques and a credit card in those pockets, in case my backpack and jacket pockets were taken. Of course, had I been forced to remove my clothes at any time, then my secret pockets would have been discovered. I kept reading the newspapers and listened to the news whenever I could, whilst on my travels. Having learned basic travel Spanish, I could get the gist of the main news stories (unless they were about economics or some such thing). I also talked with other backpackers, particularly those travelling in the opposite direction to me, as they'd just come from a place where I was headed. One night bus was notorious for being held up, with passengers being robbed. There was an 6

alternative day time bus, but it was more expensive. I chose the day bus. If Shining Path were regularly stopping the night bus, who could say when they might decide to take a person, not just their money? Enough people had been kidnapped for this to be a risk. Besides, at least on the day bus, I'd get to see the stupendous views and not have to pay money to a guerrilla group who'd murdered people ranging from dirt poor peasants to the extremely wealthy. Plan an d im plem en t at ion I followed through with my plans, even taking the day bus when another backpacker did his best to try and persuade me to join him on the night bus. I also flew, rather than take the bus from Lima to Cusco, as I learned the bus went through a Shining Path stronghold. Plus, following the advice of my guidebook, I never accepted food or drink from strangers, as the guidebook reported instances of even sweets having been tampered with, backpackers falling into a drug induced sleep and being robbed. Review t h e plan So did it work? Well, nothing bad happened to me in South America, so I guess it must have. But, I also know to some extent I was lucky. We can never be certain where or when violence, natural disasters, or accidents happen. Nothing is ever certain, but surely, there can't be harm in minimising risks?

Adventure She March 2019

RUN A CROSS BRI TA I N BY M EGA N A L-GHA I LA NI 7

Adventure She March 2019

five days away from Land?s End on the south west tip of England. In those 35 days I?d run approximately 700 miles along the length of Great Britain.

Here at Advent ure She magazine we're t hrilled t hat Megan Al-Ghailani t rust ed us wit h her advent ure, a 700 mile run across Brit ain. But , we're especially t hrilled t hat Megan chose t o share wit h us t he brut al realit y of what can happen out t here.

I had met the loveliest people and been welcomed into their homes like family. I had followed streams which turned into rivers and rivers which turned into lakes. I had run past soaring mountains and through deep valleys. I had cried a lot, but I had laughed a lot more. I had endured pain every single day and somehow managed to push through it. All this during one of the UK?s hottest ever heat waves.

It 's a great reminder t o all of us, t hat when we advent ure, we need t o respect hot dry days, just as much as we respect bit t erly cold wint er days, or soaking wet rainy day.

Today there was a scorching sun, my legs felt so weak they shook when I stood still, my back felt sore and stiff and the soles of my feet burned. My feet had burned with pain since Scotland, so the pain was familiar, but today it seemed more extreme. My legs felt frail, my muscles tired and exhausted. I was now running on the very

I wished my body felt as wonderful as the view. I?d been running for 35 days from John O?Groats on the north tip of Scotland and was now only

Adventure She March 2019

undulating South West Coastal Path and perhaps it was the coastal path?s constant change in elevation that was getting to me, or maybe, it was the physical magnitude of the last 700 miles finally catching up to me.

But on this scorching hot day, only overgrown sunburnt shrubs and nettles crowded the path. There was no shade to shelter from the burning sun, no shops to get an emergency supply of fruit or milk or water, no bus shelters to power nap in and hardly any people to keep me company. Nothing. No mobile phone receptions either. I coudn't even get any supportive messages from my family, my boyfirned and my firneds.

Though the pain was immense, I felt like I had no choice but to embrace it. For, I still had five more days to survive. I consumed my last banana sipped from my water bladder, finishing the final few drops before carrying on to Bude, my planned destination for the day and still approximately 12 miles away.

As my legs brushed past stinging nettles and sharp thorns, doubt entered my mind. I kept trying to distract myself, trick my body into carrying on. ?It?s okay, there?s only five days left now?, ?keep going onwards, make it to Bude, think of that well-deserved rest day you can have tomorrow?, ? don?t worry Megan, the path will level out eventually, surely there won?t be another hill after this one?? No matter what my mind was telling me, my body was failing, and it was failing fast.

So far running on the South West Coastal Path had been amazing. I had been so excited to reach the sea. But it was more than that. At times I felt as if I was running through a jungle, for every day on it had felt so wild with the vibrant emerald green trees towering above the golden path.

That day could have gone in a different direction.

Adventure She March 2019

I could have stopped at Elmscott making it an easy nine miles to cover. But I chose to continue to Bude which rounded that day?s mileage up to twenty. In hindsight, twenty miles didn?t seem so bad considering most of my days were the distance of a marathon or more. Plus, if I made it to Bude, I could have a rest day and that is what I thought I needed.

energy faded. In, my weary state I started to seriously doubt myself. Why was doing this? Why did I decide to run from John O?Groats to Land?s End by myself? Why did I ever think it possible for me to do it? I thought about all the things that lead me to this moment and I listed all the times I had been wrong. I thought about the dark cloud that hovered over me when I was a teenager. I thought about the times other pupils would make comments and laugh, but I being deaf could never hear what they were saying, and my mind would assume the worse.

Alas after Elmscott (which according to my map didn?t have a shop or anywhere else where I could stock up on food and water), the path became torturous , constantly switching between incredibly steep inclines and equally steep descents, requiring constant focus and attention on where you placed your feet.

I thought about the time I visited my uncle and his wife in Nairobi. I thought about the day we went to a school situated in the heart of the Mathare slum. I thought about the children I met, I thought about their scarred faces and about the stench of faeces that clung onto the polluted air. I thought about how unfair it was that they were born into a world of such poverty.

The temperature rose, peaking at thirty-one degrees. For some of you that might not seem very hot, but in the UK, that?s newsworthy hot. It was undoubtedly the hottest day I had endured so far on this run. To add insult to injury, vicious horse flies attacked my arms and legs. Plus I hadn?t seen another soul for hours. Then, as heavy droplets of salty sweat dripped down my cheeks and arms, I ran out of food and water.

I thought about all the time I wasted at University getting raucously drunk, abusing my body with unhealthy food and binge-drinking. I thought about all the times I was reckless. I thought about all the time I wasted with inimical people who eventually just throw me in the bin like rubbish.

Like the constant pain in the soles of my feet, loneliness had become my normality. Of the two, I found loneliness much harder to endure than physical pain. Until now, supportive phone messages from my boyfriend Brendan and my friends and family, helped deal with loneliness. But of course, on that day, the hardest day yet, I had no phone service. I was alone, on a scorcher of a day with shaky legs, on tough terrain, with no food or water.

I thought about that night in Budapest when I watched hundreds of refugees - people who had jobs, homes and family, people just like meshelter in a train station desperate to find another country that they could call home. I thought about those children who slept on the floor and the hollow eyes of their parents gazing

Now negatively clouded my constant attempt to remain optimistic and with that negativity, My

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down at them. I slumped onto a rock and let the tears fall. Why, when I was at the very pinnacle of exhaustion, did my mind turned on me so harshly? I felt lost, alone and defeated. When I feel overwhelmed back at home in Manchester, I always look up to the sky. I look up to the roof of the world and watch the clouds pass. I always feel a sense of relief because I know that no matter what, the sky will always be there to keep me company. As I sat on that rock feeling broken and alone I remembered this, and I looked up towards the sky. Though my mind and body felt

defeated there was no point sitting around feeling sorry for myself. After all, you do not have to be remarkable at something to do something remarkable, you just have to get up, break down your walls and carry on. I took a deep breath, stood up and carried on. A fewmiles later I came to a cross in the path. I saw a family of four with their dog approaching. I waited for them and in a tone of desperation, asked whether the path they?d just wandered down led to a road and (even more frantically,) whether that road was flat? They assured there was indeed a road and it was relatively flat. They wished me luck for the rest of my journey and then continued to meander down to the beach.

A f ew m iles ou t side Lan gdon Beck eat in g m y r egu lar sn ack of br ead.

Regrettably, I didn?t ask the family for water or food. I was only a few miles outside of Bude now; surely my body could push that bit further. When I reached the road, the skin on my arms and legs was raw and patchy from the combination of horse fly and nettle stings, plus my body had truly hit a point of enervation which I had never experienced before. My legs now plodded along like an infant learning to walk. By the time I lumbered to the bottom of the hill, I felt my body curl, crumble and fall to the ground. This was it. I had reached my max. Both my body and mind were done. After thirty-five days of intensive, fierce, running, my

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body had finally given up. For a moment, I let my eyes rest and thought ?I can just sleep here tonight, this is comfy enough?. Then, after deciding this was an inappropriate spot for a nap I forced my body up onto my hands and knees and an unfamiliar burning sensation pumped through my veins. The ground beneath me blurred and my head hung heavily. The simple action of standing up felt impossible. I felt like a baby learning how to walk, not in the joyous manner of taking those first steps but all the other incredibly frustrating times prior to that moment where the baby fails and falls back onto their face. Just as I weakly lifted myself onto my feet a car pulled up beside me and two friendly faces peered out of the window curiously at me. They asked me if I was alright and if I needed any help. Tears rolled down my face as I tried to explain that I had been running across the country, that I hadn?t eaten or drank anything for hours, that I was exhausted and was heading to Bude. In an instance the woman in the front seat dove into the back seat next to the black and

white dog and urged me to get into the car. Throughout my whole journey so far, I had felt like someone was watching over me. In the worst situations, somehow someone or something would come along to save me, and this was just another example of that ceaseless presence of love. I don?t remember much about that car journey other than incoherently crying and thanking them both profusely. I remember them dropping me off in the car park and pointing me in the right direction. I remember the dog peering out of the window, staring at me as theyImage drove away,ofand I Nolan courtesy David remember shyly shuffling past a crowd of curious tourists by the bus stop. When I arrived at the hostel, I immediately went to soak my legs in ice cold water. After cleaning the dust and sweat of my body, I lumbered across the street to a pub and tried to get some carbs into my system. My body always took time to eat, but I took especially long during this meal. By the time I finished, the pub had emptied out. I fell into a deep sleep, one which my body desperately needed.

I spent the following day on the beach. I spent most of the time in the salty cool water or on a towel eating whatever I could and reflecting on my journey so far. It?s a strange feeling, knowing how close you are to the end and how far you are from the start. It had been an experience I will never forget, one which will take a long time to recover from both mentally and physically. I learnt so much about myself, I learnt how strong my mind is, how the mind is everything. I was relentlessly optimistic (most of the time). I let go and accepted a lot of those memories that I had buried in the dark corners of my mind. I watched the sun set and rise another day. I learnt that life is very simple really- to be kind and to be generous opens your heart. To be grateful and to smile keeps your heart open. To be bold and to live life to its fullest encourages others to open theirs. To watch the waves unfold, to tell those dear to you that you love them, to believe in yourself and to let it be.

Image courtesy of David Nolan

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Abou t M egan Al-Gh ailan i Megan Al-Ghailani is a relentless optimist, a running enthusiast and a Say Yes More ambassador based in Manchester. She was born completely deaf in her left ear and partially deaf in her right ear. She fell in love with the outdoors whilst studying English Literature at Bangor University. Before graduating she completed all eight routes of snowdon in four days and a year later she completed the three peak challenge three legged with some friends. Ru n n in g t ow ar ds Yeovil, w h er e t h e ch ar it y ar e based-t ak in g a m om en t t o soak m y f eet in ice

Follow in g M egan on social m edia:

En joyin g a r est day in Bu de

Website: https://www.megan-al-ghailani.com/ Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/KeepGoingMegan/ Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/keepgoingmegan/

Adventure She March 2019

Q&A WITH M EGAN AL-GHAILANI WETHINKMEGANAL-GHAILANIISABSOLUTELYAMAZING. AFTERREADINGHERARTICLE,WEWANTEDTOKNOW MOREABOUTHERANDHERADVENTURE,SOWEBOMBARDEDHERWITHQUESTIONS. THANKYOUSOMUCHMEGAN FORTAKINGTHETIMETOANSWERTHEMSOTHOROUGHLYANDHONESTLY. What made you choose to do this? There were three reasons why I decided to run across the country. Firstly, I really wanted to explore more of the UK. I have travelled a lot throughout my life, but I had never been to Cornwall or many parts of Scotland. However, I can?t drive, and I have awful luck on a bicycle so was too scared to cycle it. At the time this idea to run JOGLE was sprouting in my head I was training for my first marathon, so it just made sense to run it. Secondly, I really wanted to challenge myself and this seemed both ridiculous and crazy therefore the best possible

challenge for me to commit to. Thirdly, I wanted to raise money for a charity close to my heart, School In A Bag. Where did you sleep at night? Originally I was going to camp each night but the weight of my backpack was way too heavy to run with, so I instead I relied on hostels, AirBnB?s, couch surfs and the generosity of friends, family and Adventure Queens. If you haven?t heard of Adventure Queens you have to check them out-I put a post on the Facebook page with a long list of locations where I needed somewhere to stay and luckily lots and lots of people invited me to stay with 16

them. Did you run it all? I ran as much as I could but there were many days when I would end up having to walk miles at a time. There were other days when I was either exhausted or had miscalculated the distance and would have to hitch a ride or rely on public transport. One day on the border between England and Scotland I massively miscalculated the distance and found myself 12 miles from my destination with a mountain, a shooting range and a steep ridge between us. Long

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story short I happened to come across mountain rescue and they gave me a life to my accommodation after a cup of tea and some dog cuddles. I found this hard to accept at first but if I didn?t accept other modes of transport now and then, I probably wouldn?t have made it to Land?s End. How much did your backpack weigh? When I first started my backpack weighed approximately 16kg including food and water. After the third day I had no choice but to skim the weight down to make each day easier and I ran the rest of the way with approximately 10kg on my back. What did you carry in your backpack? I honestly cannot remember everything I carried but this is the essentials that I remember: 2 litre water bladder, food, massage roller ball, biofreeze and other toiletries, hiking poles, 1 set of PJ?s, 1 pair of running leggings (which I ditched in Manchester because it was way too hot to wear them), 1 running top, 1 pair of running shorts, 3 pairs of new balance running knickers, 3 pairs of 1000 mile

running socks, spot tracking device, shock absorber running bra, a small notepad, running hat, a few different a-z walking map guides, charger for my Garmin watch and phone. How did you choose your route? I had 40 days to do complete this run so planned my route accordingly. I had no idea what I was doing really so basically measured each day by getting from one accommodation to

another. I choose accommodation according to what was available because in a lot of areas there really isn?t much. I tried to incorporate as many canal paths, bike paths and trails in as possible but sometimes the most direct and flat route would be along roads and sometimes that is all my body was able to cope with. How did your body manage?

Adventure She March 2019

There were a few days when my body felt okay, my legs would just need some ice and elevation but most days my body felt really uncomfortable. The bones in my feet felt crushed, my legs felt tight and sensitive and even when I took my backpack off it felt like I was still wearing it. When I would lie in bed my body always felt like it was still moving, and I always struggled to fall asleep. On the evening of my second day, my body went into shock. I couldn?t eat anything, I couldn?t stop shaking and I felt ice cold. After that I discovered the wonders of milk and it became my elixir. I am a vegetarian, so I would have a pint of milk (or more) every day, I ate a lot of bread, cheese, pizza and pasta

but also tried to have plenty of fruit and vegetables. I just ate what I fancied and what I could get my hands on. Once I ate a whole pizza, a full plate of pasta and a bowl of mashed potatoes. I had pasta most days and chip butties whenever I could. I definitely didn?t have a very healthy diet, just a high carb/high protein one. Plus I was very luck on the evenings I stayed with couch surf hosts because they would cook me the most delicious meals. As well as food, I tried to stretch as much as I could every day and I rolled out my muscles several times a day in attempt to keep my body as loose and relaxed as possible.

Ru n n in g in t o Yeovil w it h Lu k e-t h e f ou n der of Sch ool In A Bag

ABOUT SCHOOL INABAG According to School in a bag's website schoolinabag.org, "School in a Bag is an initiative run by the UK registered charity the Piers Simon Appeal (charity no: 1109503). T he concept of School in a Bag was born in late 2009 following a collaboration project to send SchoolBags to orphan children in Swaziland, Africa. School in a Bag is a simple solution created to help poor, orphan, vulnerable and disaster affected children throughout the world. Each SchoolBag is filled with stationery equipment and resources that will enable a child to write, draw, colour, calculate, express themselves and above all learn. Each SchoolBag delivered to a child will give hope to his or her future and has the potential to transform their lives. "

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Ar r ivin g at sch ool in a bag HQ

Wit h Lu ke t h e f ou n der of Sch ool In A Bag

M egan h an gin g ou t iw it h h er boyf ir ien d r en dan on h er 23r d bir t h day,

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COASTEERING PEMBROKESHIRE BY NICKY GASKELL So, what do you do when you turn 40? Why, you throw yourself off a cliff. All in the name of fun though, and it turned out to be one of the silliest, most exhilarating and self-challenging things you can do. Coasteering is getting popular, really popular, and at a small beach in Pembrokeshire, West Wales, Celtic Quest Coasteering took myself, my fiance and four other equally clueless customers

on an adventure none of us are likely to forget. The night before we were hesitant. The weather forecast for the following day was wet 20

and windy in the morning, only clearing long after our allotted time. It wasn't enough to put me off, but it might have dampened my enthusiasm. As it transpired the morning came slightly better

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than predicted, it was windy, yes, but the rain had blown away. The best result we could have hoped for in October. We arrived early at Abereiddy, a cove at the bottom of a steep lane and between Fishguard and St. Davids. We wanted to walk the dog and to take a look at the 'Blue Lagoon' - the flooded out slate quarry that would be the culmination of our morning's trip. While occasional gusts of wind got at us on the coast path, the water in the lagoon looked relatively calm. It helped assuage any nerves and let the excitement grow a little. Soon enough the Celtic Quest Coasteering van rocked up on the beach and we went to introduce ourselves to Cleo and Jerry, our guides.

The nature of coasteering is a bit rough on clothing, so they provide all the gear (you just need to bring suitable footwear, trainers are fine). I was fully suited and booted with a wetsuit, (zip at the back is the mantra, even immortalised on the side of the van), gloves, hood, waterproof socks, gloves, a cag, helmet and buoyancy aid. I was snug and ready to hit the water. Our hosts were reassuring and positive, consummate professional adults while at the same time indulging in their obvious enthusiasm for hurling themselves into the water at any available (safe) opportunity. The tide was falling when we entered the water, and I was personally relieved at that, having previously at Abereiddy almost tipped myself off my

A big huge thank you from the Adventure She team. After reading our December issue which focused on resolutions and successfully implementing change into one's life, Nicky Gaskell decided to undergo a change in her life. Already an avid hiker, she's joining the mountain leader training programme, so she can further pursue her passions. Thank you Nicky for sharing your news with us and good luck with your mountain leader training. We'll definitely keep following your adventures, as you post them on Instagram @Nickygaskell247 Many thanks too, to Celtic Coasteering, for allowing us to use the images in this article.

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kayak when I paddled over a submerged rock. Everything being visible meant less hidden horrors. The adventure started

"I t h el p ed assu age an y n er ves an d l et t h e exci t em en t gr ow " innocuously enough, we waded waist high into the water and began to scramble across the rocks, with Cleo and Jerry casually hopping over the rocks like marine mountain goats. Their confidence was contagious, but It was not all about scrambling along the tide line though.We were soon introduced to the hitherto unknown world of 'how to throw yourself in the water ' with names. First was easy, jumping from the level we were standing on, into a deep pool, a forward leap with arms folded across our chests. Everyone laughed, everyone clapped, the camaraderie in the group was building and we all felt emboldened and a bit more, well, daring. Another scramble to a slightly higher point was our second take off point, this time the aim being to look like a cannonball -

(feet pulled up to chest) - with the biggest splash getting the biggest cheer. No contest, the big guy won! I was starting to catch the bug, trying to be the first it the queue each time something new presented itself. My thought was 'I might only come this way once, take everything on offer, don't miss out or you'll regret it'. Why, when you're out there, miss out on anything? Another cliff held four tiers of jumps and I did start to feel a bit wobbly, but reasoned it out by thinking a reputable company would never put you in danger. Risk avoidance is intuitive, but the adrenaline rush of pushing through a risk is more addictive! Penguin dives, forward roll dives (I failed that one, looked more like 'dead man falling'), side twists and star jumps helped to distract the brain and the repetition of hitting the water made it less daunting. I'm not a strong swimmer, and the open sea intimidates me, but the buoyancy aid meant that when we had to manouevre from point to point through the water it was done more by 'directional floating' than hardcore swimming - very helpful when you then have to

scramble rocks to reach your next launch spot! Sometimes that was an endeavour in itself, thinking you have a good hold, only to be pulled away again by the next swell, oh how we laughed...! Despite the fact we were all having so much fun, and weren't cold, as being in the water was better than standing on the cliff side in the wind, I found my strength being sapped. Hauling yourself out of the water time after time combined

"T h ei r con f i d en ce w as con tagi ou s" with the swimming, was turning into a full body workout - so much better than a boring old indoors gym! The fresh air and the constantly moving sea, made active from the storm the previous night with its drag and push certainly reminded you of how elemental it all was. Also, as it was early October it was pupping time for the seals. We all either admired the pups that sheltered near rock pools (from a respectable distance) or we were being watched by the parents out in the waves behind us. It was a different experience to be at their eye level, and in their

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environment, rather than observing from the cliffs above. Our final stretch took us along the cut and blasted channel through the slate rock to the Blue Lagoon, the deliberately flooded slate quarry. At some points the water can be 25m deep, with another 30m of cliff above the line. On our coasteering day we had it all to ourselves, like a giant private pool. The

lemmings with good 7.5 and 10m drops. A different league, there appeared to be a little more hesitation in the group and a bit less of wanting to go first. This was what we had all been built up to bit by bit, from stepping off a rock at water-line level, by gradual increments to this plunge. All the practice for this chance to take a couple of quick steps off the edge, into the air and...... wait for the

remains of some of the structures that once

"Ever y on e l au gh ed , ever y on e cl ap p ed , th e cam ar ad er i e i n t h e gr ou p w as bu i l d i n g an d w e al l f el t em bol d en ed an d a bi t m or e, w el l , d ar i n g". were part of the quarry provided us water

splash! I'm sure that I was under water for as long as it took for me to fall through the air; and I felt safe. Excited, but safe. It was a totally new experience for me, knowing that I was overlooked by two pros gave me the confidence to do something I wouldn't have contemplated before. A couple more jumps were attempted, just to squeeze every last drop from it all, then it felt such a shame that it

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was coming to an end. Even though I was physically getting tired (too much of a good thing can end up with you getting into bother if you didn't have the reserves to get out of the water or whatever) I was actually squeaking "Again, again!"

The final group photo said it all, everyone I think felt the same, the endorphins were jumping, the smiles were broad and the memories were being imprinted. I really have to thank Celtic Quest Coasteering, and Cleo and Jerry for a brilliantly awesome adventure and I also

had my fiance to thank for buying the voucher for my birthday. Otherwise it could have been 'one of those things' that you never get round to doing no matter how much you promise yourself. My advice would be, don't wait... just do!

War n in g Coasteering can be dangerous. Aways go with a reputable organisation and guide, that know the area and which have all necessary safety equipment, insurance policies and permissions. Also check your travel insurance policy covers coasteering.

Adventure She March 2019

Climbing Mont Blanc

By Gem m a Sm it h

Adventure She March 2019

Mountaineeringisadangerousactivity. If youare interestedingoingmountaineering, great. But please,doas GemmaSmithdid,andlearnthecraft withexperienced professionals. HadGemmanot beenascapableasshewas, Gemmaandher climbingpartner might not havereturned fromthistrip. Takingthosefirst snowy mountainsteps For as long as I can recall I?ve wanted to climb mountains. In primary school, when others dreamed of being ballet dancers and firemen, I dreamed of snow-tipped peaks and climbing Everest. For a child living in suburbia in the North West of England, this I discovered recently was not a normal thing children want to do. Yet by the time I moved to London at 21, I?d long since put to bed the idea of conquering mountains in far-flung destinations. I was too busy listening to the naysayers and the impossible dreamers, people like me didn?t go and

climb mountains, no matter how much my inner child wanted to. But, a quarter-life crisis that put me in hospital provided a wake-up call, I couldn?t keep going through the motions of life, going to work, getting home eating and going to bed, only to repeat the process again and again. I couldn?t keep thinking of these incredible trips to do and places to visit, and just writing them off. So on what at the time very much felt like a whim, it certainly was perceived that way by so many people I know, I decided I was going to go to the one place in the world I?d wanted to visit since I was that tiny redhead running around the playground ? Everest.

Catchingthe mountaineeringbug 27

You wouldn?t think that a hike to Everest base camp could have such a profound effect on a person. But this trek felt like a pilgrimage for childhood ambition. Standing at base camp looking up at the endless mountains I knew I needed to come back, to feel the wind whipping across the tops, the sun beating down, the snow underfoot and witness the curvature of the earth while looking out across an endless sea of mountain tops. And so began my unexpected journey into mountaineering, with new plans to conquer mountains in all corners of the globe before I'd even set foot back in the UK. Unfortunately, it's not quite so simple to set off and climb mountains when you have no skills, and for anyone wanting to get into mountaineering, I can?t

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recommend doing a winter skills course highly enough. Building the foundational skills to understand how to safely deal with all the elements and all the seasons is essential. Alas, rain, rain and more rain with a side helping of 60 mph winds and a sprinkling of snow was not quite the backdrop I expected when choosing to do a winter skills course in the depths of a Scottish winter. Navigating, learning crampon technique and some rather entertaining ice axes arrest practice in these conditions certainly showed why learning these crucial skills correctly is so important. But, you never stop learning in the mountain environment. The skills and techniques I acquired over those five days in Scotland have seen me through three

years of mountain adventures. Though my mountaineering journey is still only in its infancy, I would never have managed to take on some of my favourite challenges without them. If anything, my first mountaineering adventure reinforced why it?s so important to be prepared before you take on a mountain challenge.

Thefirst peak Sitting at 4,810m, the highest mountain in western Europe, Mont Blanc was calling me. With no climbing friends or mountain buddies to venture off with at the time, I booked onto a commercial trip with an allocation of two people per guide. As a solo traveller doing this, it means you don't know

who will your climbing buddy for the week until that first-course briefing. Something that is somewhat of a concern when you don?t know if they will have put in the same effort to skill up or if they will be as physically fit as you are. In hindsight, I don't know if it was fortunate or unfortunate, but those concerns came to fruition for me. I was landed with a perfectly pleasant but slightly incompetent individual who really shouldn?t have made the trip given their existing skill and fitness level of zero. Don't get me wrong, I?m all for encouraging others to give things like this a go, but when someone puts another person?s life at risk because they haven?t taken the time to learn the necessary skills, it?s not good.

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Like any mountain, there?s a multitude of routes up Mont Blanc, ranging from the well-used novice friendly slopes to spikey and complex ridge routes ideal for experienced climbers. The most popular and seen as the ?easiest?route, the Goรปter Route winds its way up to the mountain summit from Les Houches in the Chamonix valley. Across two days it takes you from a beautiful cog and pin train, across snowy fields, up rocky ridges and along rolling false summits with an overnight in the Goรปter Hut, which looks like a Bond villains lair from the late 60's as it glimmers and glistens from its perch on a rocky arete. I don?t know what I really expected when we set off for our ascent of Mont Blanc, lots of people, hot weather, even heatstroke, weren?t on the list. Ascending next to the notorious Grand Couloir, dodging rockfall, skin stinging from sunburn, and vision waning due to overheating is not what most would associate with a snowy scene. Having to rely on stuffing snow and ice under my helmet and on my neck to lower my body

temperature was the only way I managed to push myself on to the Goรปter Hut, our stop for the evening. It certainly brought home just how carefully balanced our bodies are and how easy it can be to get into trouble in the most unexpected ways. With a backdrop of twinkling stars and bobbing head torches, we set off zigzagging up the mountainside at 2am on summit day. A never-ending slog, we seemed to walk forever, my one distinct memory of it was debating with myself why I thought it was a good idea to make this trip at all? Yet, the second those first rays of light peaked out from the horizon all thoughts of difficulties vanished. Curving around crevasses, along ridge lines and over endless false summits, it became a desperate desire to see more, see further, stand above it all on the elusive mountain summit. There are no words to truly describe the feeling of standing on the summit of your first big mountain, elation, astonishment and exhaustion doesn't quite capture it all. The magnificent alps stretched out in all directions, snow-capped peak

after snow-capped peak like gleaming spires as far as the eye could see.

Altitudedemons Standing on the summit, it?s so easy to forget that the journey is only 50% complete, that you can?t relax just yet. After all, it?s well known that more accidents happen on the descent of a mountain and the descent of Mont Blanc was undoubtedly more eventful for our trio of guide and clients. When someone is putting their crampons on the wrong feet and constantly standing on the rope at altitude, it's reasonably clear that something's not right. But when that person has no experience, and it?s someone you don?t know, it's hard to judge if it's purely due to inexperience or a sign of something worse. Unfortunately, after arriving at the summit of Mont Blanc, it became clear the other client had neglected to tell anyone that he was experiencing some pretty serious symptoms of altitude sickness. Combined with exhaustion, it resulted in a situation I certainly wouldn?t want to relive anytime soon.

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Trying to literally talk someone down a mountain for hours is hard. If I?m totally honest, it?s more than a little scary when you're attached by a rope to someone who is becoming an increasing danger to both themselves and everyone else in the group.

from the summit than it had to make the journey up that morning. By the time we got back to the hut a helicopter was the only option for the rest of his descent, he had become too much of a liability, and a risk to not only himself but our own lives, to take him any further down the mountain than the Goรปter hut.

You might be thinking it's a guide?s job to care for clients in this situation, and you'd be right, but when your guide would rather curse out their sick client and then chooses to help a friend out and take another sick person instead, you're not left with much choice.

Seeing the helicopter land to collect him was a welcome relief, but it provided a stark reminder that we were now 4 hours behind schedule. We should have already been back in Chamonix celebrating our successful summit, instead we faced a race to make the last train of the day and all that stood between us making it was several thousand meters of snow, rock and ice, including a crossing of the Grand Couloir during the hottest part of the day, when rock fall is most likely.

Force feeding him sweets, water and making him move when all he wanted to do was sit down was an ordeal. At one stage he was so out of it he threw his walking pole into a crevasse and wanted to climb in to retrieve it. Despite losing altitude as we descended, he didn?t appear to be getting any better and with his stumbling, dragging walk it took us double the amount of time to get back to the Goรปter Hut

I?ve never been so glad I had taken up rock climbing. Descending the rocky ridgeline, finding

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hand and foot placements seemed to be a dream compared with earlier experience on far simpler terrain. Aside from ducking a few falling rocks the rest of the descent was a breeze and a few child-like toboggans later we reached the train to take us back down to the valley bottom.

Lookingbacktomoveforwards Despite everything, climbing Mont Blanc was an incredible trip, and it gave me such a unique launch into my subsequent mountaineering heavy life. Several years on its continued to define how I choose to undertake trips and who I choose who to go with, both from a commercial and non-commercial perspective. It's also a trip which left me feeling like the strongest person around, riding on an adrenaline high for days after.

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About Gemma Smith

- Take a hike. If you want to enjoy mountaineering, you need to get used to being in the mountain environment in general and in all weather conditions. Go hiking in your nearest mountains, in the UK Snowdonia and Scotland provide the perfect hiking environment all year round. If you plan to go in winter make sure you?ve learnt how to use a map, compass, crampons and ice axe first.

Gemma describes herself as a part-time adventurer and mountain climber. She is also now a qualified Mountain Leader, which allows her to lead groups in the mountains, hills and moorlands of the UK and Ireland. You can follow Gemma on these social media channels:

- Get yourself on an outdoor first aid course. It?s something you hope you will never need to use, but knowing the basics of first aid in the outdoors and extreme environments could save someone?s life. Understanding altitude sickness symptoms is a critical part of this.

Instagram @gemlaurensmith/ Twitter: @GemLaurenSmith https://gemlaurensmith.com/

- Learn how to rock climb. As your mountaineering progresses being comfortable with ropes and basic climbing technique can be really useful. Climbing is becoming an increasingly popular sport so find your nearest climbing wall and go sign up for an introduction class, you?ll be scaling the walls before you know it.

Gemma'sTopTips Gettingintomountaineering

- Find an adventure buddy. Commercial trips are great for solo adventurers, and you can meet some great people, but there?s always the chance you?ll be stuck with people who drive you nuts. In the age of social media, there?s a multitude of ways to find new adventure buddies from UKC?s forum to the Womenclimb resources to connect female climbers. Your local climbing wall will typically always have people looking for new climbing partners too. The most critical factor in any adventure buddy is that you can trust them implicitly.

If scaling peaks around the world is something that tickles your fancy here?s my top tips for getting into mountaineering and alpinism: - Sign up for a winter skills course. Some of the most valuable skills you can have in the mountains come from doing a winter skills course. You?ll learn all about navigating in the snowy mountains, how to stay safe, use technical equipment and a multitude of other skills.

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Choosingaguideor climbingcompany

golden rules sum it up best: 1. If you feel unwell, you have altitude sickness until proven otherwise

I?ve had great guides for trips and guides I wouldn?t wish on another soul. When it comes to finding the right guide for you there?s a couple of things to take into consideration:

2. Do not ascend further if you have symptoms of altitude sickness

· Depending on the type of trip you?re doing guides will have different qualifications. For anything technical in the UK in winter then you want to look for someone who has their Mountaineering Instructor Certificate or is a British Mountain Guide. Internationally look for IFMGA accredited guides.

3. If you are getting worse then descend immediately Check out the altitude.org website to find out more about what you should look for and treatment.

· If you?re booking onto a pre-planned trip, ask the company for details about the guide assigned to the trip. If you?re unsure they would be right for you, call the company and explain your concerns. · Look for information about them online. There?s a wealth of databases such as Explore Share where you can book directly with guides and read reviews from their previous clients.

Spottingaltitudesickness If you?re planning on climbing mountains above about 2,500m understanding the signs of altitude sickness is invaluable. Mild altitude sickness can feel similar to a handover, with headaches, nausea and fatigue but at the more severe end of the spectrum, it can result in fluid on the brain or lungs, known as HACE and HAPE respectively. To deal with altitude sickness, Dr David Shlim?s three

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CYCLINGTO ROME BY ROLOTHESPANIEL ANDHISHUMAN LEILASMITH

Who was it who wrote that a dog is a man's best friend? Of course, a dog can just as equally be a woman or a child's best friend. Rather than leave her best friend behind, Leila Smith chose to take her best friend, Rolo, with her on a cycling trip to Rome. Now some people might think, oh perhaps Leila is a highly experiences adventurer, perhaps even an experience cycle tourer, but no, this was a first for both her and Rolo. What on earth would happen, as Leila, the 16kgs Rolo, the 16 kg (unloaded) trailer, Rolo's 6kgs food bags, plus all Leila's clothes and food, as well as the cooking and camping gear, cycled off to Rome? 36

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The t rut h I do not st ret ch or shove W hen I st at e t hat t he dog is full of love. I've also found, by act ual t est , A wet dog is t he lovingest . Ogden Nash 1902 - 1971

37 2 WEBSITE.COM/MAGAZINE

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Wher e ar e you going on holiday? I ?m cycling to Rome. You must be a keen cyclist? No, I don?t own a bike yet? How far is it? About 2000 miles. You must have done lots of tr aining though? No, I ?ll tr ain on the way. Who ar e you going with? M y dog, he will love it.

Your making your dog r un all the way to Rome? No, I ?ll get him a tr ailer to tow on my bike. Wher e will you stay. I ?ll be wild camping. I ?ve never done that befor e either. What route ar e you going to take? I have no idea. How long do you think it will take you? I have no idea. How will you get back? I have no idea. Bloody hell, ar en?t you scar ed? No, I ?m excited!

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Ar en't you scar ed? No? .I ?m excited When everyone I told about my upcoming trip had the same shocked reaction, I got the feeling I must be mad, but rather than put me off their reaction made me think. Maybe I could do something special and raise money for charity? As a teenager I?d lost a close childhood friend in a car crash, despite the best efforts of the Midlands Air Ambulance, they were unable to save him. I thought the charity would be a worthy cause that people could support. A few internet searches revealed a long distance cycle route from Canterbury to Rome, a pilgrim cycle route called EuroVelo 5, otherwise known as Via Francigena. I felt like I had hit the jackpot! The route was ideal for me and my dog Rolo. Rolo is a big part of my life and I wanted to share the trip with him and have him by my side to give him the doggy experience of a lifetime. The route went through parks, woodlands, disused railways tracks, canals, quiet roads and also included a few cities. The website provided maps and GPS routes and it was signposted. With such a good resources I felt

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confident. What could go wrong?

Five short test rides further highlighted my complete lack of bike maintenance skills. The gears became unaligned, the chain snapped and bits with strange names broke (what?s a derailleur?). I didn?t have a clue. How on earth would I get to Rome when I couldn?t even get out of my hometown? Undaunted, I booked onto a one day bike maintenance course to teach me exactly what those decorative disk features did!

and I?d found a couple of popular cycling apps for the route but no matter what I tried I couldn?t get the hang of them. With one week till departure I was now running out of time! A friend recommended a GPS but most of the routes either wouldn?t download or were corrupt. Panic stations! Without the route I imagined ending up on all sorts of busy roads and getting lost in dodgy areas so my friend came to the rescue and spent countless hours creating new GPS files for France and Belgium. As it turned out the route was the least of my worries. Before we even left England the trip was in jeopardy. The first couple of days were mostly on country trails and Rolo had been alternating between the trailer and happily running around so I was surprised when I noticed his paws were getting sore.

I had planned to use my phone for navigation

Thinking he needed a rest I put him in the trailer

It didn?t worry me that I?d never cycled more than ten miles or I didn?t yet own a bike. I was so blissfully ignorant, that when I went to collect my touring bike, I actually thought that what turned out to be the disk brake was a decorative feature.

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heading to Rome.

but after a day in there his paws were even more red raw. I was so confused and upset for hurting my best pal. What was going on?

By this time Rolo was almost fully recovered and I was getting fit from all the miles, some of which felt like I was on a wild goose chase. The internet had told me that the route from Calais was supposed to be signposted but I didn?t see any signs until I was half way through Belgium! Then, each country the route went through had an individual website that didn?t always match the main website, sometimes even the information on the same page was conflicting with the map. In addition none of the routes met at border crossings, there was always twenty to thirty miles of no man's land over the border where no one had bothered to connect the dots.

I'd assumed it was all the miles he was running in unfamiliar terrain but now it looked like the floor of his dog trailer was sandpapering his feet. As soon as I realized I covered the trailer base in soft bedding and the vet prescribed some creme and protective boots. It wasn?t long before he was back running like he had been fitted with supercharged Duracell batteries. I followed the Sustrans cycle route to Dover. Rolo wouldn't be allowed on the ferry unless he was in a vehicle so my Dad met us in Dover to catch the ferry to Calais. After an overnight stop and an emotional goodbye the pedals were in motion

Although it was well established, trying to follow

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All that weight meant there was very little freewheeling. Unless I was going down a big hill I had to continuously pedal or else I slowly ground to a halt. If pedaling on the tarmac wasn?t hard enough the route often took me on tracks more suited to tractors, 4x4s, mountain bikes and mountain goats. Some days it felt like I was on an obstacle course as I was constantly unclipping the trailer and unloading the bike to get over boulders, fallen trees and down paths so narrow the trailer wouldn't fit. Some hills were so steep and muddy it was difficult to walk up, never mind cycle, so I would have to carry everything up the slippery tracks one item at a time.

the route was the cause of most of my frustration. Still I chose to stick with it and follow as best I could. In the end since pulling together all the route information was difficult on my phone, my boyfriend based in England would help me, easing countless hours of frustration. By day sixty-six I had covered over 1600 miles including an excruciating 2106 meters over the Alps. I was now half way through my seventh and final country and I felt I was finally getting in my stride. There was a problem though, my knees had been getting more and more painful so it was with a mixture of delight and horror that I found out that I still had to climb the Italian Apennine mountain range. I was certain cycling over them would cause some serious damage. I was so close to the finish, I had 350 miles remaining and I couldn?t stop now. My donations had exceeded my initials expectations, I had incredible support with friends and family and my Facebook page was getting new supporters every day. I couldn?t let all of those people down and most of all, I couldn?t let myself down. I decided that if I couldn?t cycle, I would walk and push the bike. I wasn?t going to let anything stop me now from reaching my goal.

Sleep deprivation proved to be another unexpected challenge, for the entire trip I did not sleep well and there were many reasons for this. Rolo is scared of loud noises and throughout Europe there would be at least three thunderstorms a week. Spending the night in a tent with a petrified dog, that was trying to hide, made sleeping impossible. Plus I was anxious when we wild camped. Even when I wasn?t wild camping and stayed with people thanks to Warm Showers, my mind would be overactive thinking about the trip, no matter how tired and aching my body.

I called my brother, Dan, who in no time at all found me a physiotherapist that was only an hour away and spoke perfect English. It was one of those occasions that I was so glad I asked for help. My worst fears were that he would tell me I couldn?t cycle for a while but he gave me some daily exercises and strapped up my legs with fluorescent pink kinesiology tape which made me look suitably ridiculous but worked wonders and meant I could continue but I had to take it easy? ..well as easy as possible cycling over a mountain towing about 50kg in weight!

Then towards the end of the trip my air bed needed blowing up five or six times a night. At the beginning everyone was worried about my safety yet in reality the kindness of strangers was wonderful. People stopped and asked about my story. Often they donated cash which I passed on to the charity. Passers-by would stop their cars to help me fix the bike, women would buy Rolo treats in the market, or give him sausages as we passed

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their outdoor restaurant table. I even got taken out for meals and invited into people?s homes. My supporters on Facebook were incredible and after a long and hard day their words of encouragement were priceless.Occasionally I stayed in pilgrim accommodation and people would often bend the rules and allow Rolo to stay in my room or they would help me find a safe patch of grass to camp. Although I was unprepared to start this journey I was excited at the prospect of venturing into the unknown. The fear of not going on an adventure and missing out on new experiences always outweighs my fear and worry of all of the problems that may occur. If your dreams are bigger than your problems you will find a way to succeed.

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You can f ollow Leila an d Rolo on t h e f ollow in g social m edia ch an n els: Website:

www.leilasmith.co.uk

Instagram:

@Leila.in.the.woods

Facebook:

@LeilaRolo

Abou t M idlan ds Air Am bu lan ce According to its website http://www.midlandsairambulance.com "Midlands Air Ambulance is the charity responsible for funding and operating three air ambulances..." "Since 1991, the charity has responded to more than 50,000 missions averaging 2,000 per year, making it one of the longest established and busiest air ambulance organisations in the UK. The charity?s three aircraft each carry a crew comprising pilot, two paramedics or flight doctors plus full life-support medical equipment. Operating from strategically located regional airbases, 90 per cent of the region is within reach within eight minutes. If a patient reaches hospital within the Golden Hour (60 minutes after their injury) their chances of survival are dramatically increased. That is why the rapid response of the Midlands Air Ambulance is so vital in an emergency situation..."

h o spit a l s a r o un d t h e w o r l d - a w h ist l e st o p t o ur

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By Fr a n Edmund s 45

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"I don?t consi der myself an acci dent prone person but the amount of materi al I have for thi s arti cle would seem to suggest otherwi se". Fran Edmunds

Reading those words, with an issue planned on 'when things go wrong as they sometimes will', we simply had to include Fran Edmunds' story on hospitals around the world. Besides, it made one of our team feel a tad better, on realising she's not the only one who's ended up in the hospitals of several countries. On a more serious side, it reminds us all of the important of travel insurance and the need to take our the correct policy for our destination and activities.

Us British, we are proud of our National Health Services (NHS) and see it as something that sets us apart from other countries, but how does it actually compare to health care systems

abroad?

dramatic rift valleys in Ethiopia). However, a few incidents have led to unplanned visits to hospitals around the globe. These were eye-opening experiences that gave me a unique

At the age of 27 I consider myself a competent and adventurous traveller (Recent trips include camping on volcanic islands in Rwanda and trekking through

insight into life in a different country. As such, I have decided to share these, even if they showcase my incompetence more than my great adventuring ability!

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FRANCE - Ef f icien t , ef f ect ive, expen sive My first foreign medical encounter was in the French Ski resort of Val D?Isere not necessarily the most interesting story,but provides a good point of reference. I had a disappointingly ordinary fall in some deep snow off-piste, twisting round on my ski a few times. Unable to put weight on my left leg, I slid down on my bottom to the gondola. It took me directly to a swanky medical clinic perfectly positioned for mountain accidents. I was a little disappointed to not get taken by skidoo off the mountain but as I was off-piste in a whiteout, it was quicker to get myself down.

After an X-ray and assessment by an English-speaking doctor, I was strapped up, kitted out with a pair of ice crutches* and sent on my way to await full diagnosis back in UK. This would have received a 5* review if there was a Trip Advisor equivalent for hospital clinics. Equipped with crampons, the ice crutches were particularly useful over the next 6 months. One poke with these and my friends were very happy to fetch anything I asked for.

Above: Fr en ch par am edics t r eat in g on e of t h e Adven t u r e Sh e t eam , w h o;d f allen of f h er bike an d gash ed open h er leg t o t h e sh in bon e. Below : Th e w ou n d all st it ch ed u p an d br u ises developin g n icely, a f ew days lat er . Im ages cou r t esy of J. A. Har r ies

Following the basic principles of supply and demand, every European ski resort is well-equipped to treat any (aprĂ¨s) ski injury. I had to pay for treatment initially but successfully claimed this back on

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travel insurance. The higher premiums for ski cover are well justified!

Uncertain of what the facilities would

use. I asked the nurse to clean the

not been considered, leaving

be like in such a

wound and order an

it under-funded and

remote location, I was relieved when

X-ray, which she dutifully did.

under-resourced.

we arrived at a large

Viet n am ? Th an k you Google! The next hospital trip was not for me this time - a fellow traveller had her foot run over by a van in the beautiful mountain town of Sapa in North Vietnam. Luckily we were with some well-built Canadians who cornered the perpetrator and made him take us to hospital.

A while later, a man in jeans and a t-shirt

modern building. I

Spain - A Wak e-Up Call

was less reassured, however, when we

showed up ? he was

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stepped inside. It

the doctor, the only

Barcelona airport

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doctor! Fortunately the x-ray showed no

after a work trip, semi-conscious,

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vomiting and

nurse, who spoke no

friend left with just a

struggling to

English and seemed

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clear example of

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been a great initiative to fund the

my trousers and inject a life-saving dose of adrenaline

help of trusty Google

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into my bottom. This

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hospital but where

years of veterinary training to some

the long-term running costs have

was quite a shock for my new work

wait the paramedics

colleagues and also

Adventure She March 2019

totally unnecessary

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paramedics, the

to my rescue, and

as injecting into my

was not so lucky. I

reaction came under

drove me to hospital.

arm muscle would

ate a chocolate tiffin

control quickly. I was

I was admitted

have been equally

from a well-known coffee shop chain. I

wheeled off, a little dazed and shaky, to

overnight and put on a drip that pumped

knew it was nut-free

catch my flight to

me full of steroids to

I have had a nut

in UK but I

San Sebastian where

suppress my

allergy since I was little and always

double-checked anyway. Even so, 20

I was holidaying with some university

immune system. With a GCSE Spanish,

carry Epipens in case

minutes later I was

friends.

I can get by as a

of a serious

itchy, covered in

reaction.Until then, however, reactions

hives and my face

effective.

had been moderate

resembled a juicy ripe tomato. It

and easily managed with a heavy dose of antihistamines and a

tourist but my Your immune system remains on red alert

medical vocabulary

and secondary

is somewhat limited. I had great exchange

immediately felt

reactions can be

with a nurse, trying

worse than before,so

triggered without reason. The next day,

to explain to her that

cool bath (followed

I injected myself with my Epipen for the

that happened. A

I was on my period and needed a new

by a day in hiding

first time.After

retired nurse and her

tampon, only I didn?t

while my face

treatment from the

husband kindly came

know the words for

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Wh at 's in you r m edical k it ?

disapprovingly at the many bandaged hobbling tourists

With an hour ?s drive left, I had no choice but to hop back on

who had clearly

the bike. We soon

fallen off a moped

came by a few

drunk.

roadside sellers. A

One weekend, I

very sweet old lady helped wash my leg

hired a small

and gave me some

motorbike to visit some caves, a

ointment.

couple of hours

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either of these. She

remote. I?m now

away. It was a scenic,

was met by the lady

eventually

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understood after me

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but slightly nerve-wracking

running the volunteer scheme

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suitcase full of

drive, along windy

who insisted on

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Epipens and irritating waiters by

mountain paths. On

taking me to a

the way back, a truck

swanky private

not pregnant!) ,

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accompanied by

the ingredients.

came round a sharp bend on the wrong

hospital. It was luxurious. I had my

side of the road. I

own room and more

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swerved and ended

medical staff

In dia? Rich es t o Rags

up buried underneath my bike.

attending to me than I imagine the

some comical gesturing. The hospital treatment was good

Queen would have. A little shaken, I pulled the bike off

They even gave me a

- pretty comparable

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to NHS ? and waving

am little

my EHIC card, I was

embarrassed about, but it was most

damage ? I had lost

eye-opening due to

a lot of skin and

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was a little shaken

the contrast

by the experience

between the hospitals I visited for

gained a lot of gravel (I was wearing

x-rays and a thorough wound

shorts) as well as

clean, I was

treatment. While

some heavy bruising

instructed to get my

been a lot worse if I

volunteering in

from where the bike

had been

Chiang Mai, Thailand

had landed on me.

dressings changed every other day. This

somewhere more

I had looked on

not charged anything. However, I

and realised that the situation may have

me and assessed the

branded goodie bag when I left.

was fine in Thailand

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but soon I headed off to India which

syringe from one of the many pharmacy street vendors all

time receiving adequate treatment. They have also been

not necessarily comparable to those of locals. We are in a

battling for a sale.

a great reminder

privileged position

Landing in Mumbai, I

Apparently this was

that human

when travelling

headed to the ?best? hospital (Google

safe and only cost

kindness exists

abroad and also at

10p!

anywhere in the world.

home, with free access to high

was a little different.

didn?t quite get it right this time). It

The Mumbai

was busy and chaotic in typical

hospital was not dirty, but as I had a

However, it is also worth remembering

Indian

well-stocked medical

that my experiences

care from the NHS. Let?s hope there is

fashion,however

kit I could replicate

are from the

no need for a ?Part

here this meant very sick people lying on

the level of sterility myself. From then

perspective of a Western tourist who

2? at the end of

any spare piece of

on, I decided to

will, one way or

floor they could find.

change my own

another, pay for

dressings. I hope

treatment. They are

front of a very long

this freed up time to treat locals in more

queue and felt guilty

need.

as many were in much greater need.

Con clu sion

I was skipped to the

quality, relatively

A little pragmatism

tetanus booster, given the humidity

and sense of humour helped me

and dirtiness of

to navigate through,

India.I agreed,

even embrace, these

expecting him to get

sometimes unconventional

a vaccine from the fridge. This,

situations.

however, is India. Instead, he sent my

On the whole my

friend out to buy the vaccine, needle and

experiences have

2019.

Th e au t h or f in ally en joyin g a h oliday, t h ou gh per h aps n ot exact ly t h e h oliday sh e'd in t en ded, on leavin g h om e.

The doctor recommended a

efficient medical

been positive, each

Adventure She March 2019

MACHU PICCHU AND THE INCA TRAILS

By Bethany Hughes Photogr aphs by Br endan Reed, Laur en Reed and Bethany Hughes

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Imagine if you were part of a team of two, that were the first people, male or female, to thru-hike the Greater Patagonian Trail . Well Bethany Hughes and her hiking team mate Lauren Reed, don't need to imagine, for they were the first. A community, called Her Odyssey, has come together to empower Bethany and Lauren, not just to travel the length of the Americas by non-motorized means, but to also tell the stories of the land and its inhabitants. When we here at Adventure She magazine heard about them, we simply had to ask them if they would be kind enough to share part of their story with us, after all, what a way to start our new UNECO World Heritage Site series. Both were delighted to share a little bit about their experience and in the end, Bethany is the one that wrote the words. We're really grateful to both of you and send you huge congratulations on having treked and paddled your way across the whole of South America.

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FIVEHUNDREDYEARSAGO THEINCAEMPIREDOMINATED THEANDES. The Qhapaq Ă&#x2018;an, or Andean Road System, was a network of over 30,000 km. It connected and estimated 12 million people from hundreds of tribes under a single rule. The road system connected Cerro Aconcagua of Central Argentina in the south to the jungles of Peru and corners of Colombia in the north. It spans six modern-day countries and in 2014 UNESCO granted it World Heritage Site status. Despite the vast reaches of trail and dozens of intact and hikeable lengths remaining, a single 43 kilometer segment receives the most international attention and therefore bears the brunt of use. This segment is known as the Inca Trail and it ends at Machu Picchu. While hundreds of sites in the region have the capacity to capture the imagination and baffle the modern mind, Machu Picchu (which was itself designated a World Heritage Site by UNESCO as far back as 1983), is the most popular destination with visitors. Hiram Bingham brought Machu

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Picchu into the modern global narrative in 1911. When he arrived, local Quechua people were still farming the terraces built by their ancestors. Some things remain the same: llamas still graze, descendants of the indigenous people adapt and thrive, and the smooth stones, reverently and painstakingly fitted together, still stand. Now 6,000 visitors a day roam the famous terraces, of which 500 walk there along the world famous Inca Trail, which is also called the ?Sacred Trail?.

the end of the road in the Sacred Valley, where there is a small shop, a few houses and a drop off location for hiking groups. The Social Trail is unsanctioned, unadvertised, and therefore quieter than most other trails in the area. In my experience of walking both routes, this one felt more authentic, if less spectacular. You often get the small archaeological sites to yourself, access via footbridges to a few of the larger sites along the Sacred Trail, and a look into the agrarian lives of locals. Other advantages are that it does not require permits or a guide, and it does not cost anything. The grade is easy as it follows a rail line, stays around 2,000 m in elevation, and it can be run in a day or easily walked in two days.

THESOCIALTRAIL There is however a second trail, known as the ?Social Trail?, which follows the Urubamba river and the rail line to the town of Aguas Calientes in the valley below the ruins of Machu Picchu. Each trail offers benefits and challenges ranging from terrain to logistics. Both routes begin at Kilometer 82,

The disadvantage to hiking the Social Trail to Aguas Calientes, is that some sections

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overlap with the rail line. You may choose to use the road through the settlement at km 82 to avoid the station master. From there, the trail wanders back and forth from being on the actual rail tracks to footpaths which parallel it. This means you have to be prepared to hop out of the way for the trains. There is some tourism infrastructure along the Social route, though not nearly as organized as on the Sacred Trail. All in all, this route is not strenuous, but is rich in ruins (like Inca Stairs), and provides a sense of solitude you?ll have trouble finding anywhere else in the heavily traveled Sacred Valley.

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THESACREDTRAIL The more famous Sacred Trail now requires a permit, advance booking, hiring a guide, and associated fees ($600 - $3,000 USD). The hike takes anywhere from 2 - 5 days. The trail climbs high and at times steeply, wandering from an arid river valley into lush cloud forest and up mountain passes revealing sweeping views of the 56

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Andes range. The trail itself, like all parts of the Inca trail I?ve traveled along, is a feat of ingenuity, with natural stone tunnels, entire sections of stairs carved into a single face, and long stretches of perfectly interlaid stonework, all devised to drain water and hold its ground - a trail maker ?s highest ambition. The stone trail is generally wide, though along some ridge lines there are steep drop offs where more than just the beautiful views will take your breath away. Camping is in designated pay sites which are pre-booked through your guide or agency. The trail passes a dozen striking ruins and archaeological sites, and guides share stories on history and local insight. On the final morning along the Sacred Trail, groups are awoken at 3 or 4 am in the scramble to be the first ones to the Sun Gate and to see Machu Picchu at sunrise. People leapfrog and edge their way past one another along one of the most precipitous and narrow lengths of trail. I found this to be the most stressful day of the trek. Still, the Sun Gate is beautiful and, on a clear day the view of the world famous ruins are truly astounding.

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WHICHONETOHIKE? In sum, if your aim is to walk to Machu Picchu in a guided group and you have the budget, the Sacred Trail is for you. If you are on a limited budget and you prefer independence and a leisurely walk, consider walking the Social Trail. Or, you might even consider two other multi-day trail options in the region, being the Salkantay Trail or the more challenging jungle trek to the Choquequirao Ruins. Both alternate options offer guided group options as well as are, at the time of writing,

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IMPACTOFPUBLICITYONMACHUPICCHU noticed him wedging the cigarette butt in between some rocks and since I was already making the rounds picking up trash, I asked if he would mind putting the butt in my little trash bag. He was sheepish but willing. Then, on our final morning, at the Sun Gate, as all of us sat perched on the walls at the Sun Gate waiting for clouds to part over Machu Picchu, I noticed he was smoking again. This time, when he finished, he carefully put it out and placed it in a little trash bag in his pocket. It brightened my soul even as the sun fell across the ruins below us.

However, there are costs to the past 100 years of use to which Machu Picchu has been put ever since Hiram Bingham brought it into the public?s awareness. . Artifacts have (allegedly) been stolen, a verdant canopy of trees is stained by fumes of the buses belching up and down the steep climb from Aguas Calientes to the site, once pristine stretches of trail are treated as open bathrooms, and ancient rock architecture is now crammed with trash and cigarette butts. One of my most impactful experiences of the trail began when our group approached one of the passes where several other groups were stopped. People were grumbling about an individual who was smoking a cigarette. I

Overuse in fact poses a serious and under-considered threat to Machu Picchu. While UNESCO advises no more than 2,500

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the rulers and regarded as the navel of the empire, it now serves as the hub for visitors and is called the ?Tourism Capital?of Peru.

visitors a day, through an elaborate system of permits and time schedules, Peru admits around 6,000 visitors a day, including 500 for people using the Sacred Trail.

RESPONSIBLETOURISM

If you are interested in getting off the beaten path, the entire region is a veritable treasure trove of archaeological sites; peaceful pockets of ancient splendor, cliff top dwellings, and formations the purpose of which remain a mystery to modernity.

In the 7,000 kilometers we've spent following the Qhapaq Ă&#x2018;an, the Sacred Valley held the highest concentration of visitors, and with good reason. The Sacred Valley hosts many of the most spectacular remnants of the Inca empire, and traveling with a knowledgeable guide deepens both understanding and appreciation. In terms of historical value and archaeology, the fame is well deserved. But our interest comes at a steep price. Is it ethical to promote further traffic to an already overtaxed site when there are literally hundreds of other sites, dozens within the same area, where hikers and day visitors can experience the remains of this

Some other designated sites within the Cusco area worth visiting are Pisac, Ollantaytambo, Salinas de Maras, Choquequirao, and there are also hundreds of other ruins spanning from Argentina to Ecuador. Like Machu Picchu, the city of Cusco was itself designated a World Heritage Site by UNESCO as far back as 1983. Once home to

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adhere to leave no trace practices, respect the sites and resources, and even pack out some extra trash one might find. If we help educate other visitors and guides on responsible tourism, then in time they too can help educate even more people, thereby multiplying the impact of our own responsible tourism practices.

proud culture? A person cannot love something without knowing it. An on-the-ground experience deepens connection and how you value and understand the rich history of the Inca Empire. Considering what we, as a visitor, can bring to the experience to enrich and preserve such treasures is equally as important as the effect it has upon us. As visitors, we need to remember to approach places such as the Sacred Valley with spirit of humility. Perhaps we should consider visiting alternative sites to decrease the concentration of impact? We should certainly

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ABOUTBETHANY'FIDGIT'HUGHES When Ishe was 4, Fidgit moved with her family to Ecuador. Age 6 they moved to Chile. Age 10, it was on to the Dominican Republic, then at 12, they returned to the US and lived in Texas, Colorado, and Missouri. She's worked on a cattle ranch in Montana, guided Boy Scouts in New Mexico, and with sled dogs in Alaska. Whilst at university she studied in the UK for a year, during which she hiked the Pembrokeshire Coastal Path (see the March and June 2018 issues of Adventure She magazine for more on that epic hike). She went on to teach in Mallorca and then, in her own words "kept hopping around until I found thru-hiking on the Pacific Crest Trail."

ABOUTLAUREN'NEON'REED 'Neon' (Lauren's trail name) is one serious hiker, having completed the Triple Crown of thru-hiking, which comprises the Appalachian Trail, the Pacific Crest Trail and the Continental Divide trail. Between thru-hikes, Neon's worked as a wilderness guide in Utah.

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ABOUTTHEHERODYSSEYJOURNEY- SOFAR The Her Odyssey route across South America took Fidgit atnd Neon from Patagonian Chile and Argentina, across Bolivia, Peru, Ecuador, and to the Caribbean coast of Colombia. In so doing, they became the first people (male or female) to thru-hike the Greater Patagonian Trail and, they also walked the entire length of the Inca Road, the Qhapaq Nan. To learn more about them and their mission, check out their social media pages: Instagram:

https://www.instagram.com/_herodyssey_/

FaceBook:

https://www.facebook.com/herodyssey/

Twitter :

https://twitter.com/Her_Odyssey

YouTube:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B4AOYn7YViw 63

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MOREABOUTMACHUPICCHUANDSHINING PATHFROMTHEADVENTURESHETEAM 1911

15THCENTURY Machu Picchu was founded in the mid 15th century. It has frequently been described as the Lost City of the Incas, the place where the Incas eventually fled to after warring with the Spanish. Nowadays people generally consider that place to be Vilcabamba, with Machu Picchu having been an estate of the Inca emperor Pachacuti who ruled from 1438 to 1471 (we?ve also read the date 1472).

When Hiram Bingham first saw Machu Picchu in 1911, some of its famous terraces were used for agriculture, but vegetation covered a lot of it.

1980'STOEARLY1990'S In 1983 just over 100,000 people visited Machu Picchu. By 1987 visitor numbers were still under 200,000 , Then they dropped off, to less than 100,000 visiting in 1991. A key reason why visitor numbers halved between 1987 and 1991, with only low increases in 1992 and 1993, is Sendero Luminoso, or Shining Path. It utilised guerrilla tactics and terrorism, as it attempted to take over the country. In some areas it even killed very poor locals asleep in their homes, late at night. According to the Chicago Tribune newspaper, dated 17 August 1986 and sourced online, Sendero also ?dynamited a tourist train leaving Cusco for the popular ancient Inca city of Machu Picchu, killing seven vacationers, including an American, and injuring 40 others.? In the same article an official is quoted as saying ?Four years ago, we had 397,000 tourists in one year in Peru, and for us, that?s a big amount ? ? .It?s been going down and down since then. From Jan. 1 to Aug. 1 this year, I don?t think we?ve had 50,000.?

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POST1992

MACHUPICCHUNOW

In 1992 the leader of Shining Path Guzman was captured in Lima. Since then, visitor numbers have increased most years, the exceptions being 2009 (possibly due to the global financial crisis) and 2010 when horrendous floods hit the area.

Today about 1.2 million people visit Machu Picchu each year., compared to less than 100,000 in 1991. In 2007 Machu Picchu was named one of the seven modern wonders of the world by an internet poll. As always, visitors should keep an eye on various travel advisory websites and try to keep up with news when in a country. This is particularly relevant in South America at the moment, where the situation in Venezuela has the potential to worsen and even possibly stir up animosities in other South American countries.

2013 On 15 February 2013 another USA based newspaper, USA Today, revealed the US Embassy in Lima had issued a ?warning to U.S. tourists of a potential kidnapping threat in the Cuzco region, including the famed Inca citadel of Machu Piccu.? This too was a threat from Shining Path. The article reported that the warning ?drew vehement objections from Peruvian officials?.

Hopefully any such problems will not

BOOKSONMACHUPICCHU Our editor found 'Lost City of the Incas' by Hiram Bingham, a tough read, when she hiked the Sacred Trail to Machu Picchu in January 1993. Another previous contributor to this magazine, failed to finish it. More recently, our editor didn't persevere on starting to reread Hiram Bingham's book. But, she loved 'Turn Right at Machu Picchu 'by Mark Adams, claiming it contained history, adventure and suffering, which combined, made for brilliant reading.

UNESCOWORLDHERITAGE Machu Piccu and the City of Cusco, were declared UNESCO World Heritage sites in 1983. Since then, numerous other Inca sites have also been granted UNESCO World Heritage listing. The following website is an excellent and easy to read source of more information on Machu Picchu's World Heritage listing.

Adventure She March 2019

PADDLINGTHE YUKONRIVER ByAnnaSargent

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In August 2018 ten friends headed off into the wilds of the Yukon River. Planning to paddle 580 Miles (933 Km) over 16 days from Whitehorse, Canada, to Eagle in Alaska, USA. How would they manage, camping on the riverside and as one put it, "trying not to piss off too many of the bear". Would they survive the river, the bears and the wilderness? Would they all still be friends? One thing for sure, with an expedition of this type, where remoteness, cold water and wild animals all posing potential problems, you definitely want to go prepared.

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I wasat aweddinginMorzine inthesummer of 2017when oneof mybest friends(the bride) mentionedher ideafor a triptocanoetheYukonRiver in Canada.

Initially I didn?t really know what that meant, let alone if I would be able to point out the Yukon on a map. I did know however that Laura often had these ideas and this sounded like one not to be missed. The majority of the planned group were also in Morzine for the wedding and as we spent the week mountain biking, canyoning and just lazing

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around and swimming in Lake Montriond, it seemed like they would be a pretty good bunch to embark on an adventure with.

for us and then guide us. Instead we wanted to take full responsibility for every aspect of the three weeks journey.

someone a fortune or to be an expert with decades of experience in order to go out and enjoy an activity of this kind.

The premise of the trip was simple: Laura wanted those taking part to learn how to plan and run an expedition themselves.

Part of this was to reduce costs but the main reason was to empower us all to understand that these sorts of trips, adventures, expeditions or whatever you want to call them, are actually accessible to most people. You don?t have to pay

In total we were going to canoe about 900 km from Whitehorse, the capital of Yukon Territory, to Eagle in Alaska and I would be responsible for organising the first six days of the journey.

We didn?t want to simply pay someone to organise everything

After reading several blogs and

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websites about the river, I settled on a guide written by Mike Rourke. As the Yukon Territory is so remote and sparse (you could fit the UK into the Yukon Territory three times!), you can?t just buy an Ordnance-Survey-style detailed map of the area.

which enabled us to identify all manner of interesting landmarks and sites from the Gold Rush era along the way. The Yukon Territory is an incredible place, perhaps one of the most ruggedly beautiful and remote regions of North America.

You can download satellite images but the recommendation was to useRourke?s basic maps to navigate. This seemed quite old fashioned but in fact his maps were excellent and once on the river we realised just how accurate they were. Rourke?s maps also included some very detailed commentary about the history of the region

The river is almost 2,000 miles long and flows From Canada, right through Alaska to the Bering Sea. Whitehorse has a population of roughly 25,000 people and there are only 35,000 in the Yukon Territory as a whole, which means there are approximately two moose for every one

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person! My leg of the trip took us from Whitehorse to the next town on the River, Carmacks which we would reach after 193 miles or approximately a 6 day paddle. Despite passing through two towns on our 16 day journey, we decided to carry most of our supplies from Whitehorse so that we weren?t reliant on spending time looking for a re-supply if we were running tight on time. Food was kept in water-tight barrels, with anything fragrant having to be placed in a more secure bear barrel. I prepared a route card to split the journey into daily legs. This also detailed the distance to cover each day and an estimated time (based on the speed of the river), along with GPS check points, information about the river such as sightseeing or nature opportunities and potential camp sites. A copy was given to each boat along with copies of the map. I then had the detailed version in my canoe and I would sit at the front of the group and navigate. Many of us had very limited canoeing experience before

arriving in Canada so it took us a few days to master our paddling technique. On the lakes progress was slow but generally the river flowed quickly. At some of the narrower sections we could reach 6mph by just floating along. We would set up camp each night where the river banks were not too steep or overgrown with the thick coniferous forests that seemed to line every inch of the way. As the river widened we would also camp on the vast sand bars that braided the water into separate channels. We had to ensure that any potential camps were large enough to set up our equipment in the right way, making sure that we were ?bear safe?and able to cook away from our tents. Despite wild camping, some of the earlier sites were quite well visited and on occasions there were even wooden latrines and fire pits. We soon settled into our routine, ensuring that upon arrival at a camp (after a quick bear check), we prioritised group kit and things like erecting a shelter, chopping firewood and getting dinner on the go before setting up the tents and 72

conducting personal administration. If we were lucky one of us would have caught some fish to add to supper. We were outside of Salmon season so this was mainly Grayling or Pike. In August it didn?t get dark until well after 11pm so we would sit together by the fire, drying our socks and finishing the evening with a hot chocolate and a splash of whiskey. Temperatures dropped a lot at night but we were well prepared as we had all worked through a kit list before the trip which meant that while we had minimal kit, what we did have was more than enough. When it was time for bed we changed into different clothes and put our ?campfire kit?down at the canoes so any smells that might attract bears or wolves would be away from where we were sleeping. We also took precautions by using unscented toiletries, partly for the bears but also because we wanted to use natural products rather than risk releasing chemicals into the environment around us. The weather was typical for the Yukon in August. When the sun came out it was lovely and warm but there were also cloudy days

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and plenty of rain. In fact, it probably rained at some point during most days. The nights had some cloud but we were treated to some very clear nights and were able to see the Northern Lights ? a first for me and a truly mind-blowing experience. The Yukon has a lot of history. In 1896 prospectors found gold in a creek near Dawson City. When news got out over 100,000 people rushed there and hundreds of boats (paddle steamers) were built to serve the needs of trappers, traders, prospectors and missionaries. All down the river are remains from when the Yukon thronged with human life. Old gold-mining paraphernalia; the remains of roadhouses, cabins and telegraph posts as well as the old wood camps that were vital

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for supplying the fuel for the many paddle steamers that were used to navigate the river. One of the most impressive sites we came across was the remains of the steamer Evelyn, which still rests on so-called ?Shipyard Island?where it was dragged on to dry land for maintenance many years ago.The sheer size of these vessels was astounding.

with so many prizes to be found. Of course, long before the gold rush, the First Nation

As well as old buildings, plenty of artefacts could be found and many of the huts still housed things like pots and pans, whiskey bottles and the odd letter. It was like a treasure hunt every time we stopped off

people had made The Yukon their home and they would often come to fish and trade

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with the companies. Again, there was plenty to see of their history. What really stayed in my mind was the poignancy of the Indian cemeteries and small wooden spirit houses, many of which were the only surviving artefacts of the First Nation people amongst the invasive footprint of the Gold Rush era. You could see the remains of the old fish camps and some of the drying racks still stood from where the salmon would be hung out to dry.

I?m a massive animal lover and so the prospect of the wildlife we might encounter was a huge draw for me. Unfortunately, as a group of 10, I think even when we attempted to be quiet we probably still scared off half the animals. That said we were still very well rewarded; we saw moose, grizzly and black bears, golden and bald eagles, ospreys, hawks, owls, otters, caribou, mountain sheep, foxes and to my

amazement a lynx! We also heard beaver but never managed to spot one. Due to the river freezing in Autumn through to late spring husky sleds also have a lot of use in the Yukon and so we also came across some huge husky camps with very well looked after and soppy dogs who were always up for a fuss. If you?ve read this far will probably have the impression that I loved this place with all of

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its stunning landscapes and sense of isolation, along with the history and culture and the unique wildlife. It was absolutely beautiful and thinking back I have so many incredible memories. But what did I learn? Did the trip stay true to its aim of teaching us how to plan and execute an expedition? Absolutely! Yes there were ten of us and we no didn?t always work well as a team.We didn?t always get on and of course some of us had our down days where we weren?t as quick to light the fire

or help with dinner as we should have been. However, taking the rough with the smooth is all part of an expedition like this. Equipment breaks, clothing gets wet, hands get blistered and tempers can fray. I learned that actually I am a really great team player and that my previous military experience with the Army Reserves really helped me in terms of prioritising what should be done and how we should run camp. Obviously there are times when after 10 hours of paddling on

the river you just wanted to set up your tent and have a nap, but sorting out group kit must come first along with getting everyone fed and filtering the next jerry can of drinking water. I realised that my irritating habit of over-researching everything meant that my route card was spot on and we were able to plan each day effectively and make the most of all our stops to take in the history. Most importantly I learned that I want to go out and undertake more of these kind of adventures. I now feel completely confident in doing so

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because the Yukon trip gave me experience in planning the logistics of an expedition as well as important things such as what safety considerations I need to take and how to plan a route. Before this I would have thought that I needed to pay for the

services of a guide and that the planning would be beyond my capabilities. Due to work and family commitments my next trip may not be for such a long period of time and it will probably be a lot closer to home but there definitely will be another trip. I?d

also like to think that perhaps I can take along someone who was in the same position as me, before Laura gave me this opportunity, so that they too can learn how to take themselves off on incredible adventures. This is certainly the first of many for me.

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Abou t An n a Sar gen t Anna is a mountain biker, skier and triathlete. She has somehow also managed to find the time to get married, work (in an office - so she says time outside is precious and preferably spent on hills), and to look after two cats. Anna has huge plans for this year, but you'll just have to follow her on Instagram to find out more. Instagram:

https://www.instagram.com/anna.sargent/

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THE I DI TA ROD BY CA ROLI NE M URRA Y

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veritable veterinarians dream.

The Iditarod is the stuff of legends. The legendary mushers who saved so many lies in 1925 is just a part of the history of this long distance trail navigable n Alaska's winterby the most hardy of people.

The Iditarod is a 1000 miles race held every March, with a fascinating history. In 1925 an epidemic of the life threatening respiratory disease diphtheria hit the tiny town of Nome, located near the Arctic Circle. The nearest medical supplies were roughly 1000 miles away.

The Iditarod race, is of course a legend in itself. A race that has enrapped out editor's imagination ever since she fist heard of it as a child.

Sea ice made boat transport impossible, open-cockpit planes could not fly in the subzero temperatures, and the nearest train station was nearly 700 miles away, so sled dog transport was the only hope of speedy delivery.

So when Carolline Murray offered to write an article on the Iditarod, our editor couldn't believe her luck. We hope you enjoy reading about Caroline's experience, as much as we have.

Sled dog teams, totalling 150 dogs and 20 mushers, were recruited in a round-the-clock relay to transport the life saving serum, wrapped in fur, through rugged wilderness, barren tundra, dangerous sea ice and blizzards, to Nome, enduring temperatures down to minus 60C. The serum was delivered in an incredible five and a half days, and 3 weeks later the diphtheria epidemic in Nome abated, thus saving many human lives. Some of the mushers suffered severe hypothermia and frost bite along the way. The race is a testament to the bravery and resilience of the mushers and dogs. It takes 9 ? 12 days to complete, depending on weather conditions. The winner receives a brand new pickup truck ? a valuable commodity in Alaska, and approximately $50,000 US in prize money, plus huge prestige in the dog mushing world.

Ever since reading two fantastic books ? Into the Wild by Jon Krakauer and Winterdance: The Fine Madness of Running the Iditarod by Gary Paulsen, I yearned to explore the Alaskan wilderness. As luck would have it, fate was on my side when a few years later, thanks firstly to meeting some Danish vets during a neutering project in Thailand, one of whom was obsessed with sled dog racing; and secondly, to meeting a New Zealand cyclist whose best friend just happened to live in Alaska; an opportunity arose to be a volunteer vet in the Iditarod sled dog race, a

The route runs from Anchorage to Nome, through several tiny remote villages, alternating every other year, to give different villages a chance to benefit economically from the

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publicity.

were out for a picnic.

Due to the season, terrain and snow conditions the dog route is only accessible via dogs, snow mobile or small plane. A team of international vets scattered along the course are flown in leap frog fashion between the 24 checkpoints in Cessna planes ? the pilots are hugely experienced in flying in snow, freezing cold and white outs, although crashes sometimes occur due to freak conditions. The Alaskan Airline flight from San Francisco to Anchorage was a good introduction to the nonchalant fearlessness of the locals ? during turbulence that would terrorise most airline staff and send them scuttling to buckle up, they gaily sashayed down the alleyway delivering refreshments as if they

I participated twice as a volunteer vet in the Iditarod, and rose to ignominious fame in the Iditarod community thanks to the catastrophe that occurred on my first visit. On arrival in Anchorage we, the vets, attended lectures about the fascinating physiology of racing sled dogs. Next up was health checks for all of dogs before the race. These animals are truly magnificent to behold ?raring to go, they are perfectly adapted to both cold and terrain and can digest a bewildering variety of food varying from beef to frozen seal, necessary for the huge energy needs of racing,.

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There are up to 50 mushers each year, who must have participated in other long distance races to show they are capable of looking after their dogs and themselves, when seriously tired and in extreme conditions.

Happily I made it to the log cabin unharmed and awaited the arrival of the mushers. That first time I volunteered back in 2008, the only way to track the mushers was through aerial spotting, so we had no way of knowing when they were coming. In fact, they arrived throughout the day and night.

Over the years some rules have changed. But they have always prioritise safety gear for both dogs and humans. In my time, dogs teams consisted of 16 dogs and to complete the race at least 8 of the dogs must finish. Now teams are between 12 and 14 at the start, with at least 5 dogs having to finish. Any injured dogs are dropped off at vet-attended checkpoints and flown home for ongoing treatment. Injuries are usually minor, as the dogs are highly trained athletes, and typically include harness rubs or muscle strains.

Both dogs and mushers rested and feed at each checkpoint, for a period of minutes to hours, depending on the stage of the race. Initially mushers are in quite high spirits but as time, lack of sleep and battles against the weather take their toll, the mushers can become very grumpy. Towards the end of the race mushers often start hallucinating, which can be very startling to the rookie competitors. One of the less experienced

The race starts in the main street of Anchorage, attended by most of the city population, and is a cacophonous chaos of cheering, barking and total madness. I was whisked off into a plane to my first checkpoint ? a tiny settlement called Skwentna. The scenery was breathtaking spectacular ? snowy mountains and meandering frozen rivers as far as the eye could see. I was dropped off in a snow field and told to walk a few hundred metres through a forest track to a log cabin. Heartened by the fact the race is run in March, when grizzly bears are still hibernating, I was nevertheless fearful of a random moose straying across my path and causing some mayhem. The many moose warning signs in Anchorage, stating that ?1000 pounds of moose can trample a person to death within a few seconds?did nothing to dispel the fear.

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mushers, ironically an emergency doctor by trade, suffered alarming frost bite to his corneas when he got caught out in a blizzard and had to be evacuated to hospital by helicopter. My second checkpoint was Ophir, a collection of log cabins, which contained small high bunk beds with no side rails. On the night of my arrival I rolled over in my sleep. Still inside my sleeping bag I plummeted onto the hard floor, waking up to hear a loud crack and unspeakable pain in my left wrist. My screams instant woke the other team members. They sprang to my aid, bandaging up my arm that was clearly badly broken. A trip to the local bush hospital was required. I was lucky the accident happened around dawn, as it?s too dangerous to fly at night and the only way to the hospital was by plane. A Cessna was scrambled. Still in my pyjamas and sleeping bag, with my hastily packed rucksack, I was bundled onto a sled behind a skidoo, dragged to the airstrip and packed into the plane along with a few supplies. An hour later, loaded

with pethidine, painfully injected into my behind, I felt so euphoric that I couldn?t feel any pain. Alas the euphoria was not to last. I needed emergency orthopaedic surgery which meant scrambling another plane, to take me to the main hospital in Anchorage. This time I was seated in the front, along with a dozen sled dogs tucked into various corners of the plane. Amongst these were a couple of females in heat, that were protectively popped into sacks with their head and neck poking out, and slid under my seat ? the journey was rather traumatic as the other male dogs tried to break through the flimsy netting barrier and through me to get to the females, which luckily didn?t happen. At the hospital, after waiting several hours to be seen, during which time my hand swelled up to twice its size and I worryingly lost all sensation in my fingers, I underwent a complex operation to plate my badly broken wrist. The 20 hours in hospital turned out to cost my travel insurance a whopping $20,000 New Zealand.

Drinking alcohol is forbidden on the race as many of the remote villages have severe alcoholism problems and drunken snow plough drivers have been known to injure participants. But, at the end of the race in Nome, the finish party is legendary. So a few days after my operation, still in severe pain but determined to attend this legendary Iditarod race finish party, I flew up to Nome to celebrate with the mushers. Nome is like something out of the Wild West ? some of the bars still have saloon doors, and although smoking inside is apparently illegal, you cannot (at least in 2008) see a thing due to the large volume of smoke billowing around the highly inebriated revellers. The party went on for about 24 hours until the mushers collapsed from utter exhaustion. I then flew home to recuperate... and plan my Iditarod return the next year. My second visit to the Iditarod was less traumatic physically but it was a mental rollercoaster. The weather conditions were brutal ? minus 50C and 50 mile per hour winds raged around

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85 Image courtesy of Beyond the Ultimate

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the long suffering mushers and dogs. My stethoscope froze solid and my hands developed severe chilblains. At one checkpoint, called Rohn, I awoke in the night to find a snow mobile defrosting next to me and the paraffin heater. It had fallen into an icy river in the darkness and during the tumble one of the riders had badly torn her ankle ligaments. Instead of going to hospital she just wrapped it up in duct tape, and battled on; the Alaskans are tough!

We see, hear and read so much about life in the USA, we think we know it. But this duct tape story was just one example of how different life is there to back home. Guns are a way of life in the USA, especially in rural communities, and it was not unusual to encounter a teenager with a semi automatic rifle and several ammunition rounds slung across his shoulder strolling down the track. One of the National Guards

was a competitor in my second year. In the middle of the race there was much excitement as a Black Hawk helicopter landed next to us and his military buddies, in full regalia, nonchalantly strolled out into the desolate wilderness to cheer him on. I can?t imagine that happening back home in the UK. The very remote environment of the race meant the food we had with us was basic. But hunters often visited the checkpoints, accompanied by delicious local game - a very

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welcome interlude to the frozen packaged food we had. These offerings included hearty musk ox stew, smoked salmon jerky, and in one far north village, where subsistence hunting still occurs ? a lump of pickled whale blubber. This time, each sled had a GPS tracker so musher progress could be followed en route, which was fortuitous, as one of the mushers got stuck in a particularly vicious blizzard and required rescuing, along with his dog team and sled. The weather was so appalling that even the experienced pilots were fearful of flying. Still one of them, an ex air force pilot who used to do air to air refuelling, flew out to collect the dogs ? they are leashed to a line that goes around the inside edge of the plane. During the return trip he heard a terrible howling noise. The procedure to stop dog fights is to suddenly drop the plane a few hundred feet to distract the dogs ? this didn?t work so he landed on a small frozen lake and called for a vet to help him. I was on the nearest plane which got diverted to assist. After running out to check the dogs the pilots informed us that we had to take off immediately otherwise the plane engines

would freeze and we would be stuck in the middle of nowhere overnight, not an appealing prospect. I was not popular with the pilots as I get horrendous motion sickness and due to the violent weather I was frequently sick on the planes. Due to my reputation they named me The Puker. Each time we got in a plane the pilot would tell us where the emergency equipment was in case of a crash, followed by a nervous laugh from me and comments that surely we wouldn?t need this as they would be around to haul us off the snowy mountain if there was an accident ? they would usually chuckle and nod, not always reassuringly. While our pilot was trying to take off from the ice, lashing winds pushed the plane downwards. As the pilot?s knuckles turned white whilst pushing the throttle and the plane still didn?t seem to be rising, I nervously asked if everything was ok? He replied merrily that everything was fine. The next minute a gust of howling wind whisked the plane off the ground and there

followed a wild roller coaster bucking bronco type ride back to the base, resulting in wildly projectile vomiting and abject fear. Later that evening I heard the pilot telling his compatriots he thought we were going to die. After the previous year of broken bones this was not what I wanted to hear! A few days later a helicopter carrying film crew crashed into the side of a mountain. Luckily everyone survived with only minor injuries. Happily I survived the race unscathed this time, despite a random volcano eruption in Skwenta that scattered ash and lava over the pristine snow, and again experienced the wild hedonism of the end of race Nome celebrations. On the flight from Nome to Anchorage Alaskan Airlines handed out whisky to the passengers ? a fitting farewell representation of the Alaskan way of living life to the full and ignoring rules and regulations. One day I will return to this incredible place for more adventurous veterinary shenanigans.

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Volu n t eer in g at t h e Idit ar od If you would like to volunteer as a vet at the race, then why not apply? The race website https://iditarod.com states that: ?Requirements for participation include a minimum of five years of practice experience in small animal medicine and surgery, fluency in English and sufficient health to withstand working in arctic conditions. Previous experience with the sled dog athlete is highly desirable. If you would like to apply for a position on our staff, please contact Joanne Potts (jpotts@iditarod.com) for more information.?

The race website continues: There is also a long list of clothing requirements for extreme cold conditions, that can be difficult to purchase in your home country, so it is useful to have an Alaskan contact, or someone experienced in polar expeditions as ?normal?cold weather clothing is insufficient for the extreme Alaskan winter cold."

Abou t Car olin e M u r r ay Caroline Murray is a veterinarian who works between England and New Zealand, with frequent yearly travels to remote areas, and dabbles in all kinds of species of animals. Her Facebook page can be found on https://www.facebook.com/The-Wilderness-Vet-1808523212711656/ and career details on Linked In https://www.linkedin.com/in/caroline-murray-the-wilderness-vet-86b89a3a/ 89

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LOMBOK NYEPI, STORMS, AND EARTHQUAKES

by Clar e Johnst on 90

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?The good thing about Lombok is Lombok. The worst thing about it is the people.? Not exactly what you want to hear from your local taxi driver on arrival. Well how wrong was he. I have never felt more welcomed by complete strangers.

On my first day, enjoying the tranquility of a beach devoid of other tourists, I noticed ominous dark clouds gathering. Within minutes the entire beach had been engulfed in black clouds and torrential rain. The nearby wooden shacks, tied together with string, hardly provided any form of cover, and I quickly learnt how absorbent my beach sarong was. I had no idea what to do. Where could I shelter, so I could come through this epic storm? Then through the misty air I noticed the silhouette of a woman waving at me. I ran towards the woman who pointed towards a dark wooden shack further up the beach. Inside the shack a dozen older and younger women huddled on bamboo beds, looking as if they didn?t have a care in the world. By a complete contrast I looked as if I had just been flushed down the toilet. 91

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Clare Johnson is a teacher at a Speech and Drama at a language school in Kuala Lumpur, in Malaysia, Fearing a welcome-to- your-30s crisis, she chose to distract herself with a birthday trip to Lombok.

One woman wrapped a thick towel around me and gestured to sit down on the bamboo bed, and as I sat the women waved and smiled at me. We huddled together and listened to the raindrops hammering the rooftops of the huts, and every now and then we inched closer together as the wind blew droplets in our faces. As I wrapped myself tightly in my towel I realized that none of them had anything to keep them warm, so I offered to give it back; they wouldn?t have any of it. I looked at my towel and saw that it had a giant picture of Winnie the Pooh on it; I?ve never been so happy to see that bear.

The minimalistic setting of the huts with only bamboo mats, cooking pots and towels piled into the corner revealed that they did not have many materialistic things in their lives, but their mobile phones allowed them to access a world they craved and cherish the people in their lives. Altogether the storm lasted for nearly 2 hours, and someone from the guesthouse eventually picked me up after we arranged a time. He was quite relieved to see that I had survived the storm. I will forever be thankful to those kind-hearted women, and of course Winnie the Pooh.

Despite my speaking no Indonesian, thanks to the one woman who spoke a tiny amount of English and gestures, we had no difficulty understanding each other.

A few days later Stephanie, the owner of the guesthouse, casually mentioned the Nyepi festival. ?Would you like to come?? she asked. I had no idea what it was about and had never heard of it, one of the guesthouse staff told me it is a Hindu festival celebrated every year for just one day. Sure, why not.

They shared with me photos on their phones of children, hometowns, and local Indonesian celebrities that they aspired to be one day. I showed them photos of my family and places in the UK, but trying my best to make sure that the battery wouldn?t get too drenched from the water-droplets coming from the ceiling.

We travelled by mopeds to Lombok?s capital Mataram where I noticed it was getting 92

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significantly busier, and people had parked cars where they could; on pavements, in front of fire exits, in the middle of the road ? everywhere, you name it.

they just walk regimentally through the town; they compete to find whose creation is the scariest and most riveting for the audience. They twist, shake, dive and lunge their creatures to fascinate and terrify the thousands of people who gather to watch and to be awed.

We walked through the bustling crowds to watch a parade that celebrated the ?Day of Silence.?Roads were blocked, crowds were controlled, security everywhere, and children were entertained with copious amounts of sugary sweets and animal balloons sold by market sellers.

I couldn?t wait to see, and as Stephanie finished explaining, we saw the blue flashing police lights making their way through the parade, and in the distance, I could see huge claws, horns and fangs advancing towards us.

I was still unsure what to expect, but could sense the anticipation and excitement amongst the crowd, so I asked Stephanie what actually happens.

The cascading line of vibrant demons and creatures had a rippling effect on the crowd, who cheered and screeched as they watched.

Locals start preparation months before the festival by making huge homemade ?Ogoh-Ogoh?creatures from the Hindu underworld, and parade them through the streets. It?s not a simple parade where

The most demonic and unsettling creation was leading the parade, and the 15 or so men carrying this OgohOgoh nightmare gleamed with pride and excitement. This creature was accompanied with a

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dark fiendish voiceover to signal the start of the festivities. One after the other, men and children of all ages carried gigantic models with enjoyment and aggression. Back and forth the demons they controlled would lurch over the crowds, as the carriers thrust their masterpieces towards our faces; many heads ducked in fear of being clawed. Some were so big that they were carried by over 20 men and were over 25ft high, with strict security making sure that the crowds were not bulldozed over by a gigantic scary-looking beast. Each creation was unique in its own way, with multiple limbs and wings overshadowing the crowd; young children sitting on their fathers? shoulders would try to reach as high as they could to touch them. You would think that the young would be absolutely petrified by these nightmarish beasts, but it was quite the opposite; they were entranced. I loved the animalistic expressions of these creatures, with their popping eyes combined with carnivorous teeth and flared nostrils. The juxtaposition of fluorescent colours and movement animated these creatures even more, and nobody could take their eyes off them. It was as if the underworld were descending on Earth to bring darkness and destruction. However that perception was quickly broken when you saw the occasional Sponge Bob

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Squarepants balloon flying behind the head of a demon.

?Oh, what happens tonight?? ?Well, the villages will parade their models again before they take them to the main fire and burn them.?

Of course not all demonic uprisings go according to plan, as the occasional creature discovered, their nemesis being telephone cables. The odd OgohOgoh creature?s hand, wing or head was abruptly sliced off by cables that hung across the roads. One very unfortunate creature with ferocious features had its leg very swiftly broken thanks to one main cable. The wave of ?ooohhh!? roared from the crowds as if they could sense the pain of this creature. However not wanting to ruin the party, the creature?s creators just carried on, but without shaking it too much to avoid further limbs being broken.

Wow, just like that, they burn these intricately detailed creatures as a grand finale to the celebrations! We were invited to attend a local village?s celebration that started at dusk. As I watched I saw the locals sitting on the ground in rows, facing the creature and saying their prayers. Smoke from candles and essence sticks engulfed the creatures and created an atmosphere that made them seem more sinister and devilish. As the prayers finished, each model was launched into the air one last time to make its way to the final resting place.

Children were also involved in the celebrations, and students paraded their own demonic creations under the supervision of adults; they got a little too enthusiastic in thrusting their creatures at the crowds, who were in danger of potentially losing an eye.

With hardly any streetlights, the village and surrounding area was pitch black with the exception of lights from mobile phones and mopeds. This devilish promenade performance had everyone following the creatures wherever they went, as they were once again lunged, twisted, charged and span around. In the flickering light, the models now looked so much darker and more unsettling as the locals screamed and jeered, violently shaking and jolting the demons. The underworld had come alive again with such ferocity and belligerence, before being immersed in the flames.

I have never seen anything so excitedly colourful and beautifully chaotic in all my life. Over a hundred creatures marched through the streets of Mataram with cheers and pumping music, and people gawked and danced as they watched. I felt incredibly lucky to have stumbled on this festival, and it was completely worth the risk of getting my head spiked on a demon?s claw. The crowds started to disperse, and the creators with their demons retreated back to the villages; months of work over just like that.

We surrounded the fire as it burnt away these magnificent models, and just like that, it really was over. What followed afterwards would be a day of silence; no talking or speaking for 24 hours.

?That was brilliant! Thanks Stephanie.? ?You?re welcome. Just wait until you see what happens tonight.?

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By accidentally stumbling on this festival, I was exposed to a celebration that felt so exhilarating and riveting to experience; a nice little surprise for my birthday. Would I have rather been on a beach soaking in the sun with a cocktail in Thailand? Hell no, I?d rather be shit scared and risk being skewered by an OgohOgoh. As for the taxi driver who told me ?The good thing about Lombok is Lombok. The worst thing about it is the people,? oh how wrong was he. I have never felt more welcomed by complete strangers.

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FROM THE ADVENTURE SHE TEAM RESPONSIBLE TOURISM v SATURATION

How can we best help the locals? Perhaps we should go there and spend our money using local guides and locally owned restaurants and accommodation. And that?s why we decided to include the festival, for the people can only enjoy the festival, if the people survive and clearly many people have suffered greatly.

Have you encountered a festival like this, where it really is for the locals. Have you come across a secret beauty spot? Have you come across a lost tribe?

On 29th July 2018, an earthquake hit North Lombok with a magnitude of 6.9 causing devastating damage to thousands of homes, businesses and holiday locations. Since then there have been many aftershocks that have

We really believe in empowering, educating and entertaining our readers. We also believe that sometimes, too much tourism can hurt a place. The question is, how to get the balance right? How does one help an area and its people economically, without putting too much weight on local infrastructure, or without taking over festivals?

caused further damage that will take months and years to repair. Hundreds of lives were lost and thousands of people had been displaced and made homeless. The Foreign and Commonwealth Office (FCO) advisory pages state the impact was ?most severely in northern and western areas of Lombok, north of the capital Mataram.? It continues ?The Gili Islands (Gili Trewangan, Gili Meno and Gili Air) were also significantly affected by the earthquakes. However, they have recovered rapidly, with utilities and transport connections restored.?

NATURAL DISASTERS AND INDONESIA We actually thought about not including this article, for fear of adding to the number of tourists at the Nyepi festival, which is clearly so special to the locals. Then, we thought about the earthquake which hit North Lombok in July 2018 and all the aftershocks.

Whilst the FCO no longer advises against all but essential travel to these areas, it does suggest that travelers to Central Sulawesi, Lombok or the islands ?should exercise

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caution, particularly around damaged buildings and the most affected areas?.

worth reading the FCO?s website and any similar website produced by your own country. Daily and weekly news outlets are another source of potentially valuable information.

The FCO website also reminds us that a ?7.4 magnitude earthquake and tsunami hit Central Sulawesi on 28 September 2018, affecting the Donggala, Palu, Mamuju, Utara, Sigi and Parigi Moutong regions and causing significant loss of life, casualties and widespread damage. It remains an area significantly affected by disaster but recovery is ongoing and basic infrastructure has been restored in most parts.?

Of course, as Clare Johnston found, Indonesia can also be a lovely place. After the earthquake in Lombok, there was a need for help with food, clean water, clothes and medical supplies.

Clare Johnson has suggested the following charities as ones which can help, should you like to make a donation to charities that help people in the area following natural disasters.

Plus on ?22 December 2018 volcanic activity caused a tsunami that affected the coastline around the Sunda Strait which lies between Western Java and the South of Sumatra causing significant damage, loss of life and casualties?. Alas, there?s more. The Foreign FCO advises against all travel to ?within 4 kilometres of the Mount Agung crater in east Bali? and ?within 7 kilometres of the Mount Sinabung crater in Kalo Regency, North Sumatra?. It explains that these ?are exclusion zones put in place by the local authorities due to ongoing volcanic activity?. It continues, if ?you?re in either exclusion zone, you should leave immediately?.

Indonesian Red Cross donasi.pmi.or.id Oxfam Australia oxfam.org.au/donate World Vision International ? wahanavisi.org

In short, Indonesia is a country that has seen many natural disasters, whether from earthquakes, tsunamis or volcanoes. So as the FCO advises, it?s best to keep up to date with local news and local warnings. Furthermore, terrorism is also a risk. Before planning a trip to Indonesia, it is definitely

PeduliAnak Foundation ? pedulianak.org

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Bushwalk ing Aust r alia By Liz Phillips Phot ogr aphy by Liz Phillips and Pet er McLaughlin 100

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Here at Adventure She magazine we believe in showcasing extraordinary women, such as Bethany Hughes and Lauren Reed of Her Odyssey (see our Machu Picchu story in this issue). But, we also think it's critical to share the stories from other adventurers too. After all, not everyone can take

off several months, or even years, to go adventuring. Liz Phillips is one such woman. In case you're wondering, Liz prefers to keep a low profile on social media, so we'll neither share her social media handles, nor reveal any more about her.

Th e Gr eat Sou t h West Wal k i s i n Gu n di t j m ar a Cou n t r y. Th e au t h or ack n ow l edges t h e Gu n di t j m ar a Peopl e, t h e t r adi t i on al cu st odi an s w h o h av e l i v ed t h er e f or t h ou san ds of y ear s an d w h o con t i n u e t o l ook af t er t h e l an d.

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It's the morning of day three, the spring air is still crisp. Ribbons of sunlight stream through the tall eucalyptus trees, gliding over my shoulders as I wind through the forest. I can tell it?s going to be another hot day., eventually. Right now, the conditions are perfect. Yes, perhaps my legs and shoulders are already aching, and we?re not even an hour into what will be a seven hour day. And, yes, perhaps it?s also true that yesterday I was miserable, wondering whose stupid idea it was to embark on this hike anyway? Well, whoops, that would be me! The misery passed though in the night. While I'm still wondering if there will be a moment on this trek when I realise I really am having fun, there is something very beautiful about rising with the dawn chorus, setting my pack on my back, and stepping onto the dappled trail once more. My walking reverie is suddenly

interrupted by a movement just a few paces ahead. I come to an abrupt standstill with a minor yelp, and thrust my walking pole out to prevent my friend Peter from barrelling straight past me.

themselves scarce well before you come around the corner. If you do encounter a snake the best thing to do is stay calm and give them plenty of space to move away.

The snake is quite large, I estimate about 1.5-2 metres, and a type I haven?t seen before. However, the bands of brown and green- yellow along its body are a good hint. It?s a tiger snake. I?ve heard plenty of alarming stories about how aggressive these guys can be. The one just in front of me has

Unless it turns out you are dealing with a stubborn sun baking tiger snake that has no intention of moving, of course. After half a minute of pointless stomping and hitting the ground with our poles, we end up very carefully walking around it. Tiger snake: 1, Walkers: 0.

"I r ea lly like sna kes a nd a ny sighting is a thr ill." flattened out its head and neck? cobra-like? and hunkered down on the trail with a belligerent air. It appears we have a stand-off. Although it isn?t strange to come across snakes on a hiking trail in Australia, close encounters like this aren?t as common as people might think. Snakes are deaf, but they ?listen?to vibrations through the ground. More often than not they have made

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In truth, I really like snakes and any sighting is a thrill. This brief encounter sends me on with a smile on my face and spring in my step. Then it happened, I realise, I am actually having fun. ***** In November 2018, my friend Peter and I tackled the Great South West Walk (GSWW), a 250 kilometre circuit that officially starts and ends in the industrial seaside town of Portland in south-west Victoria, Australia. We chose to take 17 days altogether, including 14 walking days and three rest days. We organised and set our own

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"I f you pay enough attention to the ca nopy you might see koa la s? you cer ta inly hea r them in the night."

food-drops; two at camp sites and one in Nelson, a small town about half way. The trail is championed and maintained by the very well organised Friends of the Great South West Walk, and they also regularly run day and multi-day walks. From the bit of research I?ve done, it seems a few tour groups are also starting to offer guided walks, so it is possible to do the hike carrying only day packs. While we were there, the only other walkers we encountered were self-sufficient like us. In fact, for many sections, we were the only walkers, period. The GSWW touts itself as a ?Symphony in Four Movements?, which refers to four distinct environments you pass through when you walk the full circuit: forest, the Glenelg River gorge, Discovery Bay plus the capes and bays. Heading north out of Portland, the trail follows roads and tracks through urban and rural settings, until finally it plunges into cool, green state and national forests. If you pay enough attention to the canopy you might see koalas? you certainly hear them in the night. Emus are also common in the area, although we saw their

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tracks far more than the birds themselves. Echidnas are a fairly common sight, as are kangaroo and wallaby. And then, of course, there?s the occasional snake. In all we spent four days meandering our way through tall-timbered woodlands until we reached the Glenelg River, our first food-drop, and a well-received rest day. From there, for a further three days, the undulating trail follows this major river ?s winding course west and then south towards the ocean. Sometimes we?d emerge out of the bush to find the wide river practically lapping at our feet, and a few surprised ducks paddling by. At other times we?d be perched 100 metres above the water, taking in stunning views of the river ?s passage through the gorge. The Glenelg River is a popular fishing area,

although no one we met was having any success. The region is also rich with caves, including the publicly open Margaret Rose Caves. They weren?t on our itinerary, being on the wrong side of the river, but we did crack a few jokes about asking the cave?s kiosk to rig up a flying fox and send us over muffins and coffee! The half-way point of the GSWW is Nelson, a small fishing town close to the Victorian/South Australian border. We arrived in the aftermath of a thunderstorm, dripping, tired and footsore. Here we ditched the tents for two nights in a comfortable Airbnb with a well-appointment kitchen and a washing machine. Absolute bliss. ***** Peter and I met through a community choir.

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Before we embarked on the journey to walk the GSWW, we had never hiked together before. And, while I am an active hiker, this was Peter ?s first foray in nearly twenty years. It sounds like a classic recipe for disaster, which made it all the more remarkable when we reached the half-way point, upright and still talking to each other. I am a very independent woman. I do lots of things on my own and value my ability to look after myself. As a result, I struggled with the fact that I needed Peter ?s help with what I

felt were simple things, like putting my pack on after a break or standing up after clambering under a fallen tree. When I finally confessed my feelings of resentment, Peter was surprised. After all, I helped him put his pack on plenty of times and he was happy to receive the help. And if he had less problems getting past the obstacles in our path, well, that was because he?s physically stronger than me. Still, the confession did us both good. When I needed his help I could be more graceful about it. When I didn?t want his

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help? when I was determined to find a way to do it myself? he knew not to take it the wrong way. Peter had a certain machismo approach to our hike that I, perhaps not surprisingly, didn?t share. When I suggested to him that we could use food drops to save us weight and space in our packs, he looked slightly scandalised. Wasn?t carrying all of our supplies part of the experience? Surely positioning food drops was cheating! No, I assured him firmly, it?s smart. He appreciated the wisdom of my words when he realised it meant

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we could stash bottles of red wine. Similarly, as we made our way to Nelson, I was deeply pondering how sore my shoulders felt and how much tougher it would feel when we were walking on the beach. I devised a cunning plan to find someone in Nelson willing to drop most of our gear off at the next campsite, leaving Peter and I free to enjoy our first day on the beach with only what we needed for the day. I knew that Peter wouldn?t think the idea was very ?manly?? and he didn?t? so I give him full marks for helping me to make the plan a reality.

A common experience that we both enjoyed was feeling our bodies get stronger, as the first few hard painful days made way to easier days. Still tiring certainly, but over time we walked further before stopping for a break, plus our packs rested more comfortably on our backs and we managed to climb steep tracks without stopping. I even negotiated more of those pesky fallen trees on my own.

of tough walking along the stark, dramatic shoreline of Discovery Bay? was easily my favourite part. I loved the brooding grey sky and the occasional rainy squalls that suddenly blew in from the ocean and then, just as quickly, dissipated over the sand dunes. Walking the first and longest day without a full pack was particularly delightful. Even Peter couldn?t disagree with that!

*****

This part of Australia is truly wild. The same strong ocean currents and winds that historically were used by ships to make the journey from Europe to Australia?s east coast,

While the departure from our snug spot in Nelson might have been a little reluctant, the next section of the GSWW? two days

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could just as easily blow ships hopelessly off course and dash them against submerged rocks. And, indeed, the entire southern Australian coastline is scattered with historical wreck sites and tales of lives lost. Along this stretch I?d often pull far ahead of Peter, enjoying the feeling of raw remoteness. Just me and a few sea birds, drawn along by the rhythm of crashing waves. The final movement in the GSWW ?symphony?is the eastward walk along rocky cliff lines and crystal clear bays. There are many popular tourist spots and day walks along this section, so your sense of ?splendid isolation?does tend to fade. Especially when you discover you're sharing a campsite with a school group. On the other hand, there?s always a pleasant camaraderie between fellow hikers; stories to share, aches and pains to commiserate over, and camping gear to compare.

for the entirety of the last day. The final day was long and hot and I was a grump for most of it. But, I think I always was going to be in a bad mood that day? it was the end of an extraordinary and challenging two and a half weeks. While I might have been looking forward to not having to pitch and unpitch and unpack

" If you do encounter a snake the best thing to do is stay calm and give them plenty of space to m ove aw ay". and repack every day, I knew I was going to miss the feeling of presence, of being totally in the moment. Of measuring distance with footsteps and time by the tilt of the sun.

shower, and dammit, I wanted a beer! Then, up ahead, I saw an elderly man scampering across the road towards us. ?Have you been on the Great South West Walk?? he asked. Lo and behold, we had just met Bill. Bill was self-deprecating about having part of the GSWW named after him, although he revealed that he had played a huge part in getting the trail established back in the 1980s. We gushed our admiration for the efforts of the Friends of the Great South West Walk, for how well the tracks and campsites were maintained, and how much we had enjoyed our time on the trail. ?Tell people,? Bill said. ?Because without people like you, there?s nothing for people like us to work for.? We assured him we would. ***

This last section is also where the return to civilisation is most apparent. Wind turbines dominate the landscape and the approach to Portland is positively industrial, with its aluminium smelter in full view

On the last kilometres into Portland we walked along a stretch called Bill?s Walk. I felt too tired to care who Bill was. I just wanted to reach the end. I wanted to dump my pack on the floor decisively, I wanted a long

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Abou t Li z Ph i l l i ps Liz Phillips lives in Canber r a, Austr alia. A keen hiker and adventur er , she is for ever dr eam ing and schem ing up her next big tr ip. In betw een her ow n tr avels, Liz leads local outdoor activities and is enthusiastic about helping w om en to str etch them selves and to explor e the w or ld. Liz?s next m ajor hike w ill be on the Lar apinta Tr ail in centr al Austr alia. We love r eading stor ies like Liz's, stor ies about us or dinar y w om en going out ther e and doing stuff , w hether for the, or the w eekend, or a holiday fr om w or k . After all, adventur e doesn't have to m ean taking a sabatical or quitting one's job. So w e w er e intr igued., how did Liz deal w ith life on the tr ail. She ver y kindly answ er ed our questions.

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listers. Did you get any? If so, how big were they, how did they impact you and how did you deal with them. In the first few days particularly, we both had our share of injuries. Amongst mine were small blisters on both feet in the spots that I usually get them from running. This dismayed me because I?d managed to avoid them on previous multi-day hikes, without any big differences in what I was wearing and how much I was carrying. On the other hand, this was the first long distance walking I?d done for a while and the first day out of Portland included asphalt. The surfaces you walk on ? and therefore how your feet are hitting the ground ? can make a big difference. Fortunately, I came ready with a small mountain of blister pads in my first aid kit and I was very conscientious about tending to my feet every morning before we set off. In the end, apart from causing me to hobble around like an old lady first thing every morning, the blisters didn?t cause any problems during the walk. After about four or five days, the

blisters were receding and my feet had toughened up to the conditions. What footwear did you two use. Did you double up socks, or use single socks. Running shoes are my preferred footwear when the terrain doesn?t call for major ankle support, so that?s what I opted for on the GSWW. Good running shoes provide firm foot support, but are also lightweight and breathable. On shorter hikes, wearing one pair of good quality runners socks has suited me fine, but for the much longer GSWW I found layering two pairs was more comfortable, providing a little extra stability and preserving my lower legs from the hideous scourge of grass seeds. Those evil little things stick to you like glue and work their way down the insides of your shoes. Ouch. My main footwear tip is bring camp shoes; whatever lightweight and easy to put on shoes or sandals you have to hand. After a long day?s hike, your feet need to be freed from bondage! Packs - how many litres were they? Did everything fit inside?

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Peter ?s pack was an 85 litre Osprey. Huge! Cavernous! There appeared to be no end to what he could keep in it. The only thing he kept on the outside was his jacket. I don?t know how heavy it was fully packed (very, according to Peter), but I remember picking it up when it was empty and thinking it already felt quite heavy. I, on the other hand, took my 55 litre Hyperlight 3400 Windrider. This is a lean, mean packing machine, designed for the ultralight market. Unlike the well-padded Osprey with its many compartments and pockets, the Windrider is sparse, but deliberately so.With less volume for my gear on the inside, I had to make full use of my pack?s generous mesh outside pockets and also with strapping on some gear that didn?t fit anywhere else. For the most part, this setup worked fine for me and has been perfect on shorter hikes too. But at around 15-16 kilos on this trip, I suffered from the lack of padding in the shoulder straps. The main point here is that an ultralight pack is really only going to work if you can keep your overall weight down. And I mean way down. Realistically I?m not quite there

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yet with my gear selection, and on a long hike like the GSWW all of those hours and kilometres don?t help. It also didn?t help that I decided to take my big camera with me, and an extra lens. It was a useful, although painful, lesson! Food - what did you take and what did you eat, breakfast, snacks, lunch, dinner. Peter and I both enjoy good food, so we decided to try our hand at dehydrating and vacuum sealing home-cooked meals. The outcomes were outstanding; significantly tastier than any shop-bought camp food I?ve tried, and preservative-free. It also meant we could choose what we wanted to have with the main dish: a pack of freeze-dried vegetables, or some instant mash potato, for example. We enjoyed my ?famous?rich bolognaise, and Peter cooked up a fabulous aromatic lamb dish and a hearty vegetable curry, amongst other treats. It really made the difference at the end of a hard, tiring day, to know we had a delicious, filling meal ahead of us. All it took was water and heating to prepare. On the first day out of Portland and again out of Nelson we also opted to carry some fresh food (sausages and veges) for that night?s meal. It was a worthwhile trade-off between some extra weight and bulk and tasty fresh food. The rest of our meals? breakfasts and snacks? we organised separately. While Peter munched on muesli most mornings, I tucked into a home-made granola of nuts and seeds. My on-the-move snacks consisted of mixed nuts, wasabi peas and chocolate-coated goji berries. Peter brought along an entire slab of cheddar, some delicious salami and a tin of crackers! Very tasty, but it added to the weight in his pack. We also had cup soup packs, tea and coffee, and I kept myself in a constant supply of good quality dark

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insects and wildlife out, the camouflage was to keep those other pests? humans? from finding them.

chocolate. Because you had the drops, how did this change the food you took apart from wine?

Unlike other more well-known walks, such as the Larapinta Trail, which are well serviced by several companies, currently there are no companies that specifically organise food drops for GSWW hikers.That makes it difficult if you don?t have your own transport. We did, however, and a lot of the GSWW is accessible by road.

What did you do with the empty wine bottles or was it cask wine? Can you please share the logistics of organising food drops. (I want to do the Larapinta one day and will probably need food drops for that, so am very interested in learning what I can about organising food drops).

The day before we started the walk, we drove to our two rest day camps and found a good hidey-hole in the bush to stash a box. The third box we left with an obliging person in Nelson.

If you?re walking independently for any length of time, it is much easier if you can organise food drops. We used 35 litre plastic boxes with lids, which we taped up thoroughly and camouflaged inside garbage bags. The tape was to keep

Our three food drops helped us to have good quality food, and lots of it, without needing to

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carry it all. We timed our food drops with our rest days, so we could also store bulky, heavy or fragile foods, like a carton of eggs. For breakfast on our first rest day I cooked up some delicious scrambled eggs and boiled the rest of the eggs for snacks and dinner. An entire jar of pesto tossed through noodles and sprinkled with fresh parmesan (wrapped in cheese cloth to keep fresh) was another easy and delicious meal. To top it all off, we could even store a bottle of red wine! Apart from expanding your food options on rest days, food drops also mean you only need to carry 3-4 days?worth of food at a time, rather than an entire 17 days?worth. Despite the name, food drops can, obviously, store other items. We had spare stove fuel, more toilet paper, and I packed a fresh pair of undies to wear while I washed the others. It also means you have a place to store your rubbish (like empty wine bottles), and any items you decide you don?t need, to collect after the walk. Water - how much did you carry? How often did you find water sources? Any shortages? Is water guaranteed on that track? Did you have to treat it? What were the shelters and loos (if any) like? The trail is fitted out with 14 generally excellent campsites, each with a spacious shelter, a full water tank, and a surprisingly pleasant drop toilet.The trail and the camps are all regularly maintained by the Friends of the GSWW, so we soon learned to be confident that the tanks would have water and even the toilets would be stocked with toilet paper most of the time!The shelters are not designed for sleeping in (although you can, and on one very rainy night I did), but all of the sites have plenty of good ground for tents.

There was something very comforting about reaching camp and seeing these familiar features. For hikers who may not be quite ready to really rough it but still like a challenge, walks like the GSWW are a good option. The water tanks meant we had plenty of water for the trail and in camp. Although I had brought along a water filter, Peter and I soon felt comfortable with drinking the tank water unfiltered and with no ill effects. During we day we each carried about three litres, which we invariably got through on the hot days. Did you have a stove each? A tent each? Because we were sharing dinners and had gone to the trouble of drying home-cooked food, we decided to take a Trangia, a classic Scandinavian camping stove which can cook a big volume of food and runs cheaply on methylated spirits. They are certainly heavier and bulkier than other stoves, but when you?re sharing with someone else and want to be able to do more than simply heat ?instant?food, they?re worth it. Sure, Trangia?s take quite a bit longer to boil water, but this soon became part of our daily routine. In the morning, put the kettle on, take the tent down, have a cuppa and breakfast ? in the afternoon, put the kettle on, put the tent up, have some soup and start to rehydrate dinner. I was surprised how many of these stoves we saw on the trail. A couple of hikers who caught up with us during a rest day had one, and several students in the school groups did also. When so many companies (and hikers) are focussing on going smaller and lighter, it?s a testament to how good a product Trangia is that it?s continues to be so popular. 113

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What type of tent did you have? Do you wish you had bigger / smaller / lighter / heavier but more durable? Peter and I had our own tents. I use and love my Big Agnes Copper Spur tent. It is light, very breathable, fast and easy to put up, and can pitch without pegs if necessary. It?salso a 2-person tent, just for me, which means I can bring all of my gear inside if I want to and still have plenty of space to stretch out. After every hike I reassess my gear and decide what to adjust. So far, I?ve never thought I could do better than that tent.

How far did you hike each day? The daily walking distances varied; the shortest day was only 12 kilometres, the longest was over 23. On average, we walked about 18 kilometres a day. What was your daily routine? Each day our alarm clock was the dawn chorus. We?d put the kettle on and then start the packing process, pausing for breakfast and the all-important cup of coffee. It didn?t feel like a rush, but we soon had a good routine? each of us doing our

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own thing in our own way and in our own time, but still ending up ready to hit the trail around the same time. I was the map keeper, and by the time we were about half-way through the walk, Peter was ready to concede that I was even capable of reading it rather well.

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COMMUTING MADAGASCARSTYLE

BYJADETOFT 116

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BrousseLife - Taxi Brousse(noun): Anoisyand crowdedvehiclethat operatesonitsownscheduleto takeyoufromPoint AtoPoint BinMadagascar. When Jade Toft approached us with a pitch on Madagascar, we couldn't believe our luck. The Adventure She team has travelled far and wide, but no one, has been to Madagascar, or even knows someone who's been there. We love learning about life in different places, so over to you Jade, and thank you so much, for getting in touch.

When you?re waiting at the Brousse station or on the side of the road, you never know what you?re going to get.You might end up sitting on someone?s lap. You might have a driver who plays the same song on repeat at maximum volume. You might have a bundle of chickens underneath your feet. No journey in a brousse is ever the same. The only thingsthat are for certain are that you will inevitably be squeezed into a row meant for four people with at least five others, someone somewhere will get carsick (fingers crossed it?s not you!), and you will most likely not make it to your destination on time. If you calculated all of the time I spent in a brousse over the course of my two years in Madagascar, the number would probably be close to a month and they are NOT the most comfortable rides in the world. I spent one night squeezed in the back row of a broussewith one man sleeping across my lap and another man sleeping across my back, leaving me to sleep at an uncomfortable forward slant. I spent several nights cuddling up with the people next to me for warmth, 117

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trying to ignore the persistent dripping of rain on my forehead, and readjusting myself in a seat that was either broken or nonexistent. The women on my brousses became my guardians for the trip. They always had an extra plastic bag to lend me if I was feeling sick, they told me what to eat and what not to eat when we stopped for food, and they led me off the main road to a more secluded and hidden area to pee when we stopped for bathroom breaks. These women didn?t know me, but they took me in and protected me.

over and kick it back on. I once awoke in the middle of the night to a brousse filling up with smoke and the woman next to me frantically yelling at me to jump out the very tiny window when the engine caught fire. Instead of fixing it, we actually ROLLED the rest of the way to our destination which added ten hours to our trip. It?s always an adventure. Even if the brousseis in relatively good shape, most of the roads are not. The road from my region to another was notoriously known for being one of the worst roads in the country and it was virtually impassible during the rainy season. My friend and I attempted to go on vacation once using this road and our broussemoved so slowly that we could have probably walked faster. When we reached a literal lake in the road, the driver told us he couldn?t go any further. There were passengers

It?s incredibly likely that at some point your brousse will break down. It?s a gamble on whether or not it will be a quick fix or something that will take hours (or possibly even days). The gas tank will mysteriously be on empty during the entire journey, the front wheel may consistently fall off causing you to need to pull 118

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stuck in this small town for days waiting for the sun to come out and dry up the water. My friend and I decided to trudge on and actually put our backpacks on our heads and waded across waist-deep water to the other side of the road where we eventually found another brousseready to take us the rest of the way. We passed by several broussesstuck in the mud, desperately trying to dig their way out. Our 160 kilometer (99 mile) journey took two days.

When my mom and brother came to visit after a year of me living there, I had actually become so used to traveling this way that I didn?t realize when things were ?weird?. My family was shocked when our driver pumped up our extremely flat tire with a bicycle pump, threw a random baby on my lap, and somehow started the vehicle without a key. It didn?t occur to me that these things were unusual. In fact, I experienced more culture shock my first time in a car after I arrived back in the United States when I begged my mom to slow down on the smoothly

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paved highway. Somehow, I became more comfortable in a brousse than in my mom?s Nissan Altima. Although I spent countless hours riding in brousses, I don?t think that it was ever a waste of time. Broussing taught me so many life lessons that I may have never learned otherwise. These rides taught me to accept the help of others, to be patient when things don?t go according to plan and most of all that it is always more productive to face difficult situations with humor rather than anger.In a lot of ways, a journey in a brousse is like our journey through life. They are both full of adventures and struggles and we never know exactly what to expect.We can do our best to plan for them but at the end of the day, we never can predict what is waiting for us around the corner. ante,

Abou t Jade Tof t Jade Toft served with the Peace Corps in Madagascar from 2015 until 2017 and is currently a Fulbright English Teaching Assistant in Malta. She received her Master 's degree in Special Education from George Mason University in Fairfax, Virginia in 2017 and has recently started a collaborative teaching blog called "The Pursuit of Scrappyness" focused on teaching with limited resources. To access her teaching blog, go to: s

https://ifitmakesyouscrappy.wordpress.com/.

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HIKINGTOEVEREST BASECAMP

BYANNABELNORMAN,AGE13 PHOTOGRAPHSBYTHENORMANFAMILY 122

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I?MANNABEL NORMANAGE 13. WHENI WAS 10 MYFAMILY ANDI HAD DECIDEDTO TRAVELTHE WORLD. THEN IN2017WHENI WAS11WE WENTTO EVERESTBASE CAMP. THISIS MYSTORY. ThePlan We decided to do the trek without a guide, as my parents had trekked here before and had experience of being at altitude. We also decided to walk rather than fly into the Everest region (which is what most people do), as we wanted to trek the route taken by climbers before the mountain airstrip was built at Lukla. The trek to Everest Base Camp would take about 13-14 days depending on our health, the weather and conditions on the

trail and then about another 10 days to return to Salleri.

safer, as we would stick to the main mountain road.

It was going to be a big walk especially carrying all of our own kit including sleeping bags, cold weather clothing, wet weather clothing etc.

It got darker and darker. We hadn?t expected to have to walk that night so our torches were right at the bottom of our big bags. All we had was the light of one mobile phone between us. We were in the middle of nowhere and it was pitch dark by now. We walked for hours with no sign of life apart from some faint lights in the distance. I started to think we would never get to Salleri and we?d be stuck in the forest forever. When I saw a fallen tree across the road in front of us with no clear way of getting around it, I began to cry, as I thought we?d have to go all the way back. We had to brake off a lot of branches before we could climb through. It was quite hard and we got a bit scratched but it was really the only way to go.

Gettingthere Before we could trek, first we had to get to Salleri. So we climbed on a crowded jeep in Kathmandu and got ready for a 12 hour jeep ride. It was never going to be the height of comfort, especially as the roads were dusty and bumpy. Only, when the jeep came to a stop, it wasn?t in Salleri. The rest of the road was closed so we needed to walk the rest of the way, which should have only taken 20 minutes or so. We joined up with a Nepali guy who said he knew the way. First though we stopped off for noodles in a nearby tea house. It was getting dark by this time. The man told us the most direct way to Salleri was dangerous because of bears, so we would take a longer route but be a lot

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Lights appeared in the distance and after about another 20 minutes we found ourselves in a small village where lots of jeeps waited. Before we knew what was happening we were surrounded by a group of drivers all trying to get us to go with them. It was all a bit scary but finally we got into one of the jeeps and began the drive

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to Salleri. 16 to 17 hours after leaving Kathmandu including a surprise four hours of walking we made into the village of Salleri.

TheTrek?Salleri toLukla As we started out on our first day of trekking we walked through mountain villages and passed donkey herders and their many donkeys carrying supplies up and down the trail.

At first it was exciting to see the donkeys but very soon it became annoying hearing the distant sound of bells approaching as we would have to wait at the side of the trail for long periods of time to let maybe 30-50 donkeys pass us by. Even when the donkeys had passed we were faced with all of the mud, poo and wee that they had left behind them which made the trail very slippery and mucky.

As we trekked those first few days we would climb up steep mountain passes only to reach the top and have to go all the way down again into the valleys, which I admit I found a bit frustrating. We trekked through thick forested mountain sides and along river banks without seeing any other trekkers but we did see Gray langur monkeys in the trees and on the trail. I?d hoped to see a couple of yeti?s on the mountain tops but they must have been hiding. Each day pretty much was made up of the same routine. We?d get up, have breakfast, pack our bags, leave the lodge to walk maybe stopping for a light lunch in a lodge on the trail, walking all afternoon to reach a village where we would take a look at the available lodges and find the most suitable one for a our night?s stay. Once we settled into the lodge we would have dinner and go to bed early to wake early and get back on the trail.

LuklatoBaseCamp After six days we joined the main Everest trail that links Lukla to Everest Base Camp. We were very surprised how many trekkers there were as up

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till then we had probably seen about three people walking but now the trail was pretty busy. Of course most trekkers fly into the Lukla airstrip to start their treks. One of my favourite days was the walk from Jorsalle to Namche Bazaar. As we trekked I saw a very high and long suspension bridge we were going to cross. It looked daunting with the river running fiercely way below, but kind of exciting too. The bridge was not wide so you had to go single file. I found it very exciting how every time a gust of wind blew the bridge it would sway, like a piece of playground equipment but much larger. I knew the climb up to Namche Bazaar would be steep and hard. However I also knew that this would be the biggest town on the trek and it would be a nice place to stay for a while. Namche Bazaar is the main Sherpa town of the Everest region and is crammed full of lodges, cafes, bakeries and even a sweet shop. There were plenty of nice looking places to stay, but the one place I had my eye on was a Monk room in one of the lodges. It was a prayer room usually where Monks would stay but since it was empty the owner said we could stay there. The room was amazing with walls painted all over with bright colours and paintings. There was a gorgeous shrine along one wall and a huge bell in the other corner. After convincing my parents that we had to stay there, we booked in and left our bags while we went for a walk around the town. If you ever find yourselves in Namche you must visit the German bakery. It?s filled with the amazing

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smell of apple pie and pizza. We stayed in Namche for three nights to help us acclimatize to the higher altitude and in that time, we spent quite a bit of time sampling the bakery?s many wonderful treats.

the only team not to lose anyone. After helping with all the injured climbers they had to leave the mountain but were back again to have another go at being the first Gurkha team to summit Everest.

It was also in our lodge at Namche we noticed a group of men who seemed to be some sort of Everest Expedition. So we Googled them, like you do. It turned out they were The British Army Gurkha Everest Expedition who were going to be trying to reach the tippy top of Everest. They had been there two years previous when the big earthquake hit and they were

After Namche we went to Tenboche. This was one of the hardest days for me.

The choice of places to stay here is very limited so we carried on walking for another half an hour downhill again to reach our lodge for the night. It had been a hard day so it was nice to get my bag off my back and take my boots off.

The hike involved going all the way down into the valley from Namche to reach a river and then a few hours of up hill to reach the monastery at Tengboche. The trail just went on and on as we puffed and panted our way up. At last we

The other really hard day for me was the walk from Dingboche to Lobuche. The morning started with a pretty easy walk, but it was bitter cold. The wind blew through the valley and there were mountains on either side so it was like being in a wind

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reached the plateau with the monastery perched on top.

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tunnel. The valley finally ended. We crossed a river and saw what looked like a small hill with trekkers, porters and yaks all plodding their way upward. It looked a pretty easy climb up but it was very deceptive. I found that I got really exhausted and had to keep stopping to rest. It got so bad that at one point I thought I would have to give up but we all encouraged one another and continued on. At last we made it to the top of the pass and could see amazing views back along the valley and the mountains beyond. There was still no sign of Lobuche though so our walk for the day wasn?t over as we plodded along a rocky valley floor. I was just so tired but I had to keep going. I was only one day away from Everest Base Camp now. I finally saw the small collection of lodges that made up Lobuche on the horizon and I must say that I almost ran the rest of the way. After that we all got rather bad headaches and the cough I developed in Namche got worse so we decided to stay in Lobuche for a rest day. The giant Khumbu Glacier was right next to the lodges and I could hear the loud cracks and rumbles as the glacier moved. Feeling a lot better after an extra rest day we headed on toward Gorak Shep, our last stop before Everest Base Camp. Reaching Gorak Shep at lunchtime we booked into a lodge and ate fried rice and pancakes to recharge our batteries before heading on to Base Camp. We were all so tired from the walking and the

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effects of the altitude on our bodies, but we had to go on. Three hours of rocky trail later we saw the yellow tents of Base Camp ahead of us. One last downhill and onto the glacier and we had made it.

gloves on, my woolly hat and hoods up with little effect. I think I was so cold and tired it was actually really difficult to take in the achievement of reaching our goal. I just wanted to get out of there, so after taking some photos and video of us at Base Camp we started to make our way back along the trail.

I was so cold that I had every layer of clothing on, my buff up around my face, two pairs of

My Mum looked terrible but we all helped one another to get back to the lodge.

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You can get a really good view of Mount Everest from the summit of Kala Patthar which you can climb and is near the lodge but we were too pooped and so my Dad just went up on his own but said it was cloudy anyway. In the lodge that night my Mum couldn?t sleep and when she did she would make terrible moaning noises that would give us no sleep (and probably the whole lodge).

BackDownagain The next day we saw the Gurkhas again as they were just setting off for Base Camp, which would be their home for a couple of months. I got a great photo with the team which was really nice of them. After a few hours of going back along the trail and getting lower down the sky got dark and it

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started to hail really heavily. We got to a lodge in Pheriche just in time to take shelter and stay the night.

might be a hole or drop. But the yaks we came across seemed to really enjoy the snow and were shaking and rolling round in it.

When I woke up the next day the hail had changed to something else? snow. I got very excited since I hadn?t had a snow day in forever! I ran outside and built a little snow man in the garden of the lodge. Suddenly I thought of something ? ice.

When we reached the small village of Pangboche we were pelted by snowballs as we walked by the local houses. Villagers had been hiding behind garden walls and having fun launching snowballs at passersby.

It was very cold as we started the walk with all of our clothing on but we soon warmed when the wind dropped. Now the problem was ice. We had to be really careful as the trail was very slippery and there was a steep drop on one side of the path, so I got a little nervous about slipping. We?d been climbing and when we got to the top we found deep snow that we had to break trail through. The problem was that it was so deep we didn?t know what was underneath or where there

The trail went up and up. The sky began to darken and the whole mountain was covered with fog. It soon began to lightly snow and we got a bit worried in case we were stuck out in heavy snow. We even thought about going back to the last village. But by now we were half way between two places. We?d been watching the weather for a while and in

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the end decided to keep going. Luckily conditions improved and after about 30 minutes the fog lifted and the snow stopped falling. T he trail slowly descended and we saw the village of Phortse in the distance. We found a lovely lodge. My Mum wasn?t feeling well, she had hip pain and she had something called Khumbu cough, so stayed there for a couple of days. One of the most memorable things which happened on the trail, we only saw because we rested in that village. From Phortse the trek to Namche began by walking downhill to cross a beautiful river. We?d just crossed the river and were on the forest trail when two men came running towards us carrying baby yaks. My first thought was, oh my gosh how cute are those baby yaks. Then I saw several big angry yaks running close behind. We quickly ran to the side of the trail and into the trees. Most of the yaks didn?t give us a second look but one particularly large black yak with huge horns spotted us and approached us angrily snorting with its head down looking ready to charge. We backed up to hide behind a very thin tree but we knew if he decided to attack it wasn?t much use. He came closer still staring at us. After what seemed like an eternity he backed away and rejoined the trail heading across the river. We let out a sigh, relieved

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down to have some dinner I stayed up in the room as I felt a bit ill. I lay in my bed but after a while the feeling got worse until I was sick. Afterward I felt fine and wanted to eat.

he hadn?t attacked us. On reaching Kumjing we found some ladies chatting in the village so we asked then how long the walk to Namche would take.15 minutes they said very confidently.

We couldn?t work our why I had been sick but being the detectives we are, worked out that my treat of chocolate was made in Malaysia and a lot of things in Malaysia are sweetened with pineapple. Sure enough after looking at the wrapper we saw it contained pineapple and guess what, I?m allergic to pineapple.

Now the thing we have learned about the local mountain people (and been told by Nepalese) is that most don?t have an understanding of time the way you or I might do. A walk to somewhere takes as long as it takes without the need to know how long in a measurement of time so when we ask how long they just say a time that comes into their heads. We learnt very early on that if we asked the time of a walk then we would have to double or triple it for us Westerners. So the 15 minute walk actually took 2 hours.

After a few more days in Namche it was back on the trail toward Salleri. By the time we got there. Our energy was zapped but we had done it. I couldn?t wait to get back to Kathmandu pizza, wash properly and sleep in a comfy bed with fluffy pillows and duvet.

We got to Namche Bazaar and my parents said I could buy some chocolate, so I bought the nicest looking bar of chocolate in the shop. We managed to get the same monk room in the lodge we?d stayed in on our way up so we settled in but when my parents went

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Lodges Lodges on the trail are really simple and every night I would wonder what the beds would be like. Usually they were hard but clean enough with a pillow. Washing was difficult as some lodges may have a sink to share but usually just a bucket of cold water. You could sometimes pay to have a bucket of hot water to wash with but as the trail got higher there were less ways to wash and too cold anyway so after a while we just gave up and used wet wipes to keep clean. The one challenge we did find was that because we didn?t have a guide it sometimes got a bit difficult to find lodges with room for us, especially as we went higher and the amount of lodges gets less. A guide would normally call ahead to

arrange rooms but with a little determination and luck we managed OK.

Food All the lodges do food as well, you are expected to eat there for breakfast and dinner. The menu is mostly soup, chow main (noodles) or fried rice but also things like fries, pancakes, curries etc. Honey lemon tea was my favourite drink, it was terribly sweet but really nice. All the food is carried up by hand as there aren?t any roads. A lot of lodges offered meat but since it was carried up probably in a basket it wasn?t really very safe to eat. I think my favourite food was Ra Ra noodle soup since it tasted fresher because of some greenery mixed in.

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