Venezuela - Roraima Trek - Days 1 and 2

Day 1

After being told we would leave between 8.30-9.00, we finally set off at 9.30 in a couple of 4x4s, driving from Santa Elena for about an hour and a half to Paraitepui, the starting point of the trek. 

Our guide and porters getting all the equipment and food ready

After unloading everything, signing our lives away with the park warden and having a light lunch, we finally set off at 12.30. There were 7 of us in the group:

• Brice - French guy living and working in the UK
• Maria - Russian girl travelling around South America and then Asia
• Normunds - Latvian expert in plants and biology, doesn't like group travel but loved our group
• José - my tent buddy, a massive fan of fast cars and also going to Angel Falls afterwards
• Daniel - from Brazil, always positive, happy and brought lots of smiles to the group
• Flavio - Daniel's brother, super active and competed in a cycling competition just before the trek

Plus Marisol, our guide, 3 porters who stayed with us til the end, and a few day-porters for the first day.

The walk to the Tök campsite where we stayed the night was fairly flat and straightforward, consisting mostly of open savannas. You could see some of the grass has been burnt down, leaving specks of black ash dotted around. The sun was shining, and the scenery was beautiful. Already we could see Roraima and Kukenán to her left staring straight at us.

Mount Kukenán (left) and Mount Roraima (right)

We arrived at the campsite at 4, which gave us about an hour to fill our water bottles from the river (upstream), bathe/swim/wash our clothes downstream, and prepare our tent for the night. We had been warned by other trekkers about the puri-puri (blood flies), but I didn't realise how bad they were until we got to the camp. They were everywhere and were completely immune to my DEET-50 repellent!

The campsite had no electricity so once it got dark activities were limited to dinner (some excellent spagbol, though not enough), some night time photography and sleep. The moon was almost full, so it was too bright for stars, but it did light up Roraima which was an incredible view and much different from daytime.

Day 2

Marisol told us that to make the summit on day 2 would require us reaching the base camp by noon. This would give us more time on top of Roraima to explore so I was keen, though for some reason we were waiting around a lot after breakfast so when we were all finally ready to leave I was up front with Brice - he was the only smoker but also the fastest walker in the group. We had two rivers to cross and were specifically told to wear socks when crossing to avoid slipping. The first, Rio Tök, was only ankle deep. When Brice and I came up to the second river - Rio Kukenán - it was much wider and deeper. There were two sides on the opposite bank, separated by the rubber running down from the tepui. We found a rope that linked the left hand side of the opposite bank and us, and decided to cross even though the others (guide included) hadn't arrived yet. Everything made sense - the socks, the plastic bags lining the inside of our backpacks, the warning about water reaching chest height.

Rio Kukenán (Photo credit: José)

The green rope, taken on the return journey. On our way the water was so high that the middle of the rope was touching the water (Photo credit: Flavio)

Brice went first and I held the rope taut for him from my side. Halfway across I could see the water was up to waist deep. I already had everything in my plastic lined backpack or dry bag, except for my shoes that were hanging off my rucksack, so I wasn't particularly fazed. 

Then it was my turn.

I held on to the rope with both hands and started making my way over slowly. The water was cold, and got deeper with every step I took. It was hard to find my footing - the rocks were uneven and slippery, the water was flowing relatively fast and I couldn't see the bottom to see where to take my next step. I had to rely on my other senses, feeling for the next possible step. When I was almost halfway over the water was now at chest height, and it occurred to me how stupid it was to try and cross like that, but there was no way to back off now.

In the middle of the crossing was a big boulder, which I thought would be useful to leverage off but it turned out more problematic - it was at am angle and all I could do was to wedge my foot between the boulder and another rock - it was a recipe for twisting or breaking my ankle with one wrong step or even loss of balance! Eventually I found my footing and marched on (only metaphorically). But it was only another two steps before I lost balance and fell backwards. I held on to the rope for my dear life but my while body including my backpack both submerged in the water. I think I even heard a couple of ooo's from the other trekkers further downstream. I recovered quickly, fearing the water getting into my backpack and camera, and managed to land on the other side without further problems.

But the worst wasn't over yet.

Just as I stepped onto dry land, Brice and I heard Marisol shouting at us, signalling for us to turn back. When I looked over everyone else had already changed into their swimming costumes. Marisol waved us back again and even got her whistle out. There was no two ways about it. We had to go back the way we came.

Being the closest to the rope I went first this time, though I noticed Brice isn't holding it quite as taut as before. I decided to also use my trekking pole to balance this time, which worked out much better than the first time. Again the middle of the river was a challenge but I managed to make it back without issues this time.

Obviously we got told off when we rejoined the group. Marisol did not look impressed at all. Everyone was getting ready to swim over and I almost did too but decided swimming was a bad idea in a strong current and freezing cold water. I took the raft option instead (think I was the only one who didn't swim!) Probably a little cowardly, but I know my limits!

Photo credit: José

Once the adrenaline died down I noticed both my hands had LOTS of splinters from the rope, which was really annoying and were really difficult to remove. 

The rest of the day was fine without further drama. Roraima became bigger and bigger in the foreground as we appraoched base camp, sometimes in full view, sometimes hiding behind mist and clouds. We could see waterfalls flowing from the top of both tepuis from the distance too.

A look back at the way we came

We made it to the base camp at around 2.30, and would have to wait until the following day to summit, which was just as well - it gave us enough time to bathe (in the freezing cold river), wash out clothes and watch another incredible sunset, with Roraima standing tall and resolute behind us. As the sun started to fall towards the horizon, it painted the cliff faces of Roraima a golden yellow. We all stood to admire its beauty and magnificence; not even 1,000 photos would do it justice.

Darkness fell quite quickly again. This night we were treated with a moon rise over one of the cliff faces. Soon after dinner it started to rain, which was then accompanied by thunder and lightning in the distant background of the Kukenán tepui. Suddenly the camp acquired a spooky atmosphere, particularly when I was back in the tent and all I could hear was raindrops hitting the tent and the distant thunder. It reminded me of the spooky stories Marisol was telling us earlier. One was about how a man who had shouted "I want to be like you Roraima" when he was bathing at the base camp, then became sick and untreatable when he got home. Apparently his comment attracted the attention of the mountain so his life was being taken away. They needed a shaman to fix him.

It was definitely time for bed.