Many of you know that if there’s an opportunity to climb a mountain (or in this case, a huge rock), I’ll oblige.
This huge rock happens to be in Shea village. You’re pretty much climbing up at an angle of 45 degrees – on average, if I had to guess. And if I had a protractor and a level with me, I would provide you with a more accurate figure.
So up I went (after some more swamp-walking). Shea Rock is really steep, so you have to be careful where you step – especially if it rains right before you climb or while you’re climbing (which it did).
From the stories we were told, someone has slipped and fallen all the way down to their death. Bummer.
On a positive note, someone has also managed to ride his motorcycle all the way to the top of the rock – we determined that he must have been a little mad to do so (especially because coming down would’ve been even scarier than going up).
Climbing up Shea Rock made me realize 3 things about myself:
1) I am totally out of shape. I was huffing and puffing on the way up.
2) My balance sucks. I can’t even walk in muddy swamp water without stumbling.
3) My feet are weak. Amerindians can climb like nobody’s business – barefoot – while I depend on my rubber soles.
Aside from making me feel like a wimp, the climb up Shea Rock went smoothly. As always, I was rewarded for my soon-to-be-aching muscles with a spectacular 360 view of mountains and endless savannah.