Little did I know when I set out for Pico da Neblina that during the climb I would have one of my most surreal travel experiences ever – and it was all because of my haircut………..
Imagine a mountain that soars straight up out of the Amazon rainforest to a height of nearly ten thousand feet, and so remote that it was only discovered in 1953. Almost perpetually shrouded in cloud and mist, few people have seen it and it has never been mapped. Cutting it nearly in two is an unexplored canyon which is believed to be among the deepest on earth. It may sound like the setting for a fictional Hollywood movie but, this is Pico Da Neblina, the highest mountain in Brazil. This incredible peak stands right on the border between Brazil and Venezuela, in the lands of the famous Yanomami Indians, who until as recently as the 1970’s, retained their stone age culture and lived naked in the forest.
When I first read about Neblina, it seemed that the difficulty of getting there made it off limits to anyone other than government sponsored botanists who were lucky enough to be helicoptered up to the slopes (60% of the plants there are new to science). Back in 2002 however, one UK adventure travel company ran a trek to the summit, and I joined the trip.
After flying to the Amazonian town of Sao Gabriel da Cachoeira via Rio de Janeiro and Manaus , we travelled by boat and on foot through the jungle. Pico da Neblina lies in the Pico da Neblina National Park, a protected area which is home to many rare birds and animals. During our boat journey to the foot of the mountain we were fortunate to see giant otters, macaws and rare pink river dolphins. I will pick up the story of our trip at the point where, after a long and steep climb through the jungle, we reached the base camp of Pico da Neblina. This account is taken from the diary I kept at the time.
I reached the Base Camp with Valdir (our guide), slightly ahead of the rest of the group. There were a couple of existing frames for the shelters in place, and the porters had already set up blue tarpaulins over one of them to form the kitchen area. The camp was located in a very pretty spot, at the junction of two small creeks. It was obvious that gold miners had previously used the area, because there were signs of old shelters and the ground had been stripped down to the quartz gravel underneath. However, beyond the small clearing of the camp was an incredible landscape of rocky outcrops, carpeted with palms, bromeliads and other strange plants. It really was a ‘lost world’ and I half expected to see a dinosaur at any moment! I set up my tripod and took a couple of photographs of the camp, before James (our UK guide) came down the trail. He told me that he and Bill (a trekker from the USA – one of our group) had discovered a beautiful orchid near the path and that I might want to come and have a look. After a few minutes of searching, we found the right spot. Sure enough, there was an orchid growing there with three small but stunning flowers. It has been estimated by botanists that sixty percent of the plants on the slopes of Neblina are unique to the area and new to science.
Base camp of Pico da Neblina
Beautiful orchid at Base camp
After I had set up my hammock in camp, I set off to explore the gully formed by the larger of the two creeks. It seemed that this small river was actually the beginnings of Tucano Creek that we had navigated earlier in the boat. A path led a short distance along the left hand bank, but after that the going was far from easy, and I found myself clambering over many large boulders. In the dense undergrowth on the high banks above the creek, I occasionally saw hummingbirds searching for flowers. Within a short distance from the camp, I found a second orchid. It was not as spectacular as the one that Bill and James had discovered, having only small yellow flowers.
After picking my way over and around the rocks, I discovered that the creek widened into a beautiful and secluded area where the clear water flowed slowly past a wide sandy shore. There were several flower-covered bushes on the banks of the stream, and after a few minutes a dazzling green hummingbird with white outside tail feathers flew in to feed on the nectar. It was a magical spot, and I re-visited it several times before nightfall to show some of the rest of the group.
Back in camp, Graham and I were chatting before dinner, when a green hummingbird with an iridescent blue throat flew into our shelter. It buzzed round our heads for a few seconds and then flew off. We learnt that the hummingbirds in the area are fairly tame because they have seen few humans. Also, the gold miners that live on the mountain have made a habit of feeding them and so they associate people with food. Valdir had filled a plastic mug with sugar-water and hung it up on a nearby branch. The local hummingbirds took full advantage of this free source of energy and quite often perched on the cup to feed.
Day 8 – Saturday 14th September (Summit Day)
The whole group was awake at 05:15 to ensure an early start for the summit climb. We had a hurried breakfast, and in the pale dawn light Valdir gave us a briefing on the climb ahead. He explained that there was a creek that had to be crossed during the trek up the lower slopes, but it could not be forded after heavy rain. This meant that if it started to rain heavily while we were high up on the mountain, we would have to race back down to base camp to avoid being stranded. He expected that reaching the summit and getting back to camp would take at least twelve hours and it would be important for us to keep up with his pace if we were to make it back before dark. Brian (another member of our group) announced that he would not be going with us to the summit, because he didn’t feel like it and would rather spend the day exploring the base camp. Naturally, we were all sad that he wouldn’t be climbing with us, but respected his decision. Before we set off, Bill rummaged in his backpack and gave each of us one of the power bars that he had brought with him from the US. It was very generous of him, and was a welcome boost to our energies before what was sure to be a testing day. Each of us took only the absolute basics with us on the trek to the summit – a water bottle, waterproofs and our cameras. I also opted to take my GPS receiver with me, because I wanted to get an accurate fix of the position of the summit.
A rare view of Pico da Neblina, from base camp
We set out at 06:40, briefly retracing our steps back along the trail, before following a left hand fork towards Neblina. This first took us through an area that had been heavily excavated by gold miners and then plunged into a four hour stretch of thick mud and tangled roots. There were high earth banks to each side, and dense vegetation on top of these, so that we were trekking along corridors through the foliage. Some of the mud pools here were more than knee deep and it would have been so easy to break an ankle on the hidden roots and rocks. Sometimes our legs sank deep into the black mud and it was so thick and viscous that it was a struggle to break free. Another hazard were roots that had been chopped through with a machete to clear the path. The cut ends of the roots were often very pointed and if not seen in time they smashed painfully into a knee or a thigh.
Reaching the creek that Valdir had warned us about, we found that fortunately it contained very little water and was easily crossed. The banks of the stream were crowded with vegetation, including a shrub-like plant with many beautiful small pink flowers. After re-filling our water bottles we continued along the muddy path.
At this point Valdir had gone far ahead, I was trekking a little way behind David, and James was back at the tail of the group. I came round a bend in the track to find that it forked. I was just in time to see David about to disappear out of sight along the left hand fork, but I noticed that someone had bent two thin saplings across each other at the mouth of that path to form an ‘X’. These indicated that the left fork was not the way to the summit. It was a subtle sign that was easy to miss, and David must have walked straight past it. I called out to him and he rejoined me on the correct path. It was lucky that I saw him when I did. After this incident I was rather concerned about how easy it was to lose the way and decided that I would make an effort to catch up with Val at the front. It was hard work to put on extra speed through the thick mud but I made it. Walking behind Val seemed to make the climb easier, because he knew the terrain so well. I reasoned that if I stepped where he stepped and kept to his pace, I would have a good chance of making it to the top and back down safely. We were also fortunate in that James and Val were equipped with two way radios so that they could communicate fairly easily, even over some distance, and keep the group together and on track. One consequence of moving to the front of the group and trekking with Val was that I missed an interesting discovery by James and Bill. They came across a small black scorpion resting in leaf litter at the side of the trail.
Valdir uses the two-way radio on the summit climb
Having reached the end of the muddy section, we could see that the path climbed extremely steeply up a cliff face. It was quite exposed in places, and several short sections were actually basic rock climbs or scrambles. At one point in the climb a trio of Scarlet Macaws flew past at eye level, giving us a welcome distraction from the drop off nearby. I found one small rock chute particularly difficult to climb, because the handholds were far apart and slippery because of the water and algae on the surface of the stone. At another, there was a permanently fixed knotted rope that allowed us to haul ourselves up. This section of the climb was incredibly demanding, and there was no let up in either the pace or the steepness of the ground.
After the cliff came an easier (but still steep) section over quartz rocks. The plant life here was very interesting; we saw a beautiful orchid, carnivorous pitcher plants and another interesting insect-eating plant, the bladderwort. The bladderworts on Neblina grow in the small pools of water that collect inside bromeliads. Once established they send up a single green stem, topped with a beautiful lilac flower. The roots that grow inside the pool of water have little sacks (bladders) on their ends. The plant pumps the water out of these bladders to create a partial vacuum and when a tasty morsel floats close by, a trapdoor opens in the bladder and the insect is sucked inside to be digested. We took a rest at this point, while we examined the interesting plants. Unfortunately, I had put my camera away and so missed the chance to photograph a beautiful hummingbird that perched on the branch of a small tree, just feet away from us!
Eventually, we reached the foot of some formidable looking cliffs and had our lunch while perched on a steep bank of rocks. Looking at the way ahead, I was beginning to wonder if I was going to make it to the summit. By this stage, Carolyn’s knees were hurting badly, so she and Del decided to go back. Tomei, one of our Yanomami porters helped her all the way back down to the base camp. That left four clients, Bill, David, Graham and I, plus Marcello, Valdir and James, to push on to the summit.
Just after the lunch stop we came to an almost sheer rock face some twenty feet high that was safeguarded by a knotted rope. I climbed up very carefully, trying hard to keep a tight grip on the sodden and slippery rope. When I got to the top I found a narrow ledge with a nasty drop off to the left, and I rested against the rock while I got my breath back.
A photo of me climbing the fixed rope on the way to the summit
Next to me on the ledge were the troops from CIGS – an elite Brazilian army jungle warfare unit who were on their way back down from the summit, having completed their annual repairs to the Brazilian flag. They were waiting patiently for us to ascend before they could use the rope to get down. When the others in our party reached the top, Valdir told me that the leader of the Brazilian army unit wanted to talk to me and pointed him out. I made my way over somewhat nervously; why on earth would he want to speak to me? The army man spoke briefly to one of his sub-ordinates, who to my amazement began cutting the Brazilian flag from his uniform. The leader then presented this to me, with a salute. By now I was totally confused, and so I just saluted back and thanked him. They made their way down the rope, and I turned to Valdir in the hope of an explanation. Apparently, the leader of the army group had seen my very short haircut (a number 3) and had assumed that I was in the UK army. He had decided to give me the Brazilian flag from the uniform as a goodwill gift. I was amazed, and I still have the army patch that he gave me.
The Brazilian Army CIGS jungle warfare unit – this photo was taken just before or after they gave me the shoulder patch. Photo courtesy of Bill Scroggie.
From this point the path to the summit was a very steep rock scramble that was exposed in places. Fortunately, we were now among the clouds and they shielded us from seeing just how nasty the drop-offs probably were. Everyone was very tired, and wondering how much further there was to go, when we finally sighted the Brazilian flag fluttering above the summit cairn. A few minutes later, and we stood on the roof of Brazil, at 9,888 feet (3014 metres) above sea level. As I reached the top I shook hands with Valdir and as each member of the group joined us, we congratulated each other on completing such an arduous climb. I marked the position of the summit on my GPS receiver and then we took group photographs next to the flag. Each of us signed the summit book, which Brasil Aventuras had placed underneath the summit cairn in a Tupperware box.
We spent about one hour on the summit, during which the dense cloud that surrounded us parted briefly only once, to reveal a memorable view straight down onto the canopy of the Venezuela rainforest on the other side.
Me, on the summit of Pico da Neblina – Brazil’s highest mountain
Then began the long down-climb back to our camp. It was very difficult to make our way down over the slippery rocks, and of course this time we were facing the drop-offs, which made it more unnerving. I had particular problems on one steep section not far below the summit, and James took my camera and helped me to find sturdy foot and hand holds. When we reached the knotted rope down the rock face where we had met the soldiers, I went down first. It was more frightening to descend than it had been on the way up, because I had to lower myself backwards and the rope was very difficult to grip. I wasn’t surprised when Graham asked James to belay him with the safety rope as he came down after me.
We had a rest stop by the foot of the crags, in exactly the same place where we had lunch. I took a photograph of James next to the precipice, with neighbouring mountains as a backdrop. From this vantage point we could just see the lip of the Rio Baria canyon, the deep and unexplored rift that cuts right into the Neblina massif.
When we reached the treacherous cliff section, it was my turn to ask to be belayed with the safety rope, to help me descend the awkward rock chute that had caused me such difficulty on the way up. I remember another tricky part of the cliff very vividly. It was another short scramble down a rock chute, onto a very narrow path next to a big drop off. We had to climb down this facing the rock, and the very last section was an awkward step backwards off one of the footholds. As I stepped down, I overbalanced backwards and stumbled towards the drop. Luckily for me, Valdir was watching my descent closely, and as I stepped back, he put his arm out behind me and stopped me falling off the cliff.
When at last we reached the foot of the cliff, it was time to retrace our steps through the seemingly unending mud pools and roots that lay between the camp and us. By this time we were all exhausted, my knees hurt with every jar from a submerged rock or sharp contact with the end of a root. It really was difficult at times to summon the energy to lift my feet out of the black mud ooze.
Exactly twelve hours after we had set out to the summit, we returned to our base camp. Brian, Carolyn and Del all came out of their hammocks to congratulate us and Brian passed around a very welcome hip flask full of Scotch whiskey. I was shattered after the climb, which was definitely the most demanding I had done. I had just about enough energy to re-arrange my pack and eat my dinner of potato, rice and vegetable stew, before heading to my hammock for some much needed sleep.
Day 9 – Sunday 15th September (Rest Day)
It had been an uncomfortable and chilly night in the hammock, with a cold persistent wind blowing in under the tarpaulin. I had breakfast, with delicious hot chocolate, and then I took my camera, zoom lens and tripod down the creek to the magical spot I had found before. This was our rest day after the summit climb, and I had decided to spend the morning relaxing by the creek and trying to photograph the hummingbirds feeding on the flowering bushes. It was the hope of being able to photograph hummingbirds in the wild that had led me to bring along my tripod and zoom lens in the first place, and make the effort to carry them all the way up through the jungle. I soon had my equipment set up as close to the nearest flowering shrub that I could find, and then it was just a matter of waiting patiently. I had read that hummingbirds are very territorial and must feed constantly to stay alive, so I reasoned that I would have a fair chance of capturing one on film. In the end, I discovered that a hummingbird (perhaps the same one) visited this particular bush roughly every half an hour. Even with the modern features of my camera such as fast auto-focus and a high shutter speed it was very difficult to photograph these extremely quick and agile birds. The action head on my tripod proved indispensable. It looks a bit like the brake on a bicycle handlebar and with one squeeze of the lever the head and camera can be swiveled to the desired position, but as soon as the pressure is released it locks solidly in place. This allowed me to quickly follow the bird as it darted around the flowers and fire the shutter as soon as the head was locked in place. It took me the whole morning and an entire roll of film to get a handful of shots that I thought might have worked. Fortunately when I was back in the UK and had the slide film developed, I found that the results from a few of the shots exceeded my expectations. I thoroughly enjoyed that morning by the creek, and it was impossible to tire of watching these dazzling little birds.
A hummingbird near base camp
I got back to the camp just in time for lunch. As we sat around on the log benches next to our camp a hummingbird flew up to us, and fed from the plastic mug of sugar water, often when one of us was holding it! One bird flew right into the middle of our group, hovered, and looked at each one of us in turn before darting away.
A few of the others in our group had spent the morning up at the gold miners camp. They told me that the miners had been very hospitable and even given them some food. Unfortunately, the only thing that they had to offer was a lump of animal fat that they heated over the fire. Bill told me that during the cooking process, it quite often caught light and had to be hurriedly extinguished. Bill had done his best to eat it, not wanting to appear ungrateful, but said that it was almost inedible. Apparently the miner’s camp only consisted of a pole shelter like ours, but with blue tarpaulins on all sides to try to keep out the wind. They had rigged up many sugar feeders for the friendly hummingbirds, which were constant visitors. The miner’s had been enduring these extremely tough living conditions for eleven years. They had so little that they used notebook paper to roll cigarettes. While I was at the base camp, the three miners paid us a visit, and even showed us their precious stash of gold dust.
A rainstorm blew in, the others retired to their hammocks, while I sat by the fire in the kitchen part of our shelter, drinking cappuccino and chatting to Val. While I sat there, a hummingbird flew in and tried to drink from my mug of hot cappuccino! Then it moved on to trying to sip sugar from the lids of the bottles of juice that we had. Val and I had to wave it away from the juice bottles, because whoever bought the supplies had mistakenly got us diet ones for the trek and these would be harmful to the hummingbird, because the artificial sweetener would not give it the energy it needed to survive. These birds require so much energy just to stay alive that they live constantly on the brink of disaster, and I remember seeing a documentary that showed they could only afford to stop feeding to go to sleep at night because they slow their metabolism right down when they roost.
As the rain cleared I watched Val tidying up and doing tasks around the camp. His jungle skills were remarkable. With a machete, he cut a nearby piece of wood to the right size and within a few seconds had shaped one end to make a new handle for our shovel. It fitted perfectly into the shovel-head at the first attempt. When we had been trekking, I had seen him draw and throw his survival knife in the blink of an eye, and he buried the blade right up to the hilt in the stem of a banana tree.
My most remarkable encounter with the hummingbirds happened that afternoon. I decided to sit out on one of the log benches and hold out the blue mug full of sugar water, in the hope that one of the birds would feed from it. I had quite a long wait, but eventually, one came down and actually perched on my thumb as it drank from the mug! It was so light that there was hardly any pressure from its little feet on my skin. I could feel the down draft of air from its rapidly moving wings. It didn’t settle down completely, presumably in case it felt threatened and decided to make a quick getaway. After a few memorable seconds it finished drinking and flew off to the safety of a nearby branch.
We were all very glad that we had been given the chance to spend a day in this incredible and remote place, and we also needed the recuperation time. My legs and knee joints ached terribly from the descent the day before, and it was the first time I had experienced anything like it, even after a long trek. Walking any distance around the camp required a lot of effort.
After dinner, I was glad to retreat to my hammock once more, but it was not a peaceful night. The temperature dropped considerably and a gusty wind buffeted the shelter. I found it very difficult to sleep and couldn’t wait for the sun to rise, but I was pleased that I had made it to the summit of one of the World’s most remote mountains.
It should be mentioned that this was not the last ‘highest summit’ for Graham from our trekking group. Years later he went on to summit Mount Everest from the Chinese side – an incredible achievement.
Adventure Travel and Photography 