Not Getting Lost, Part 2

First, I should give a synopsis of part 1, which I decided not to post before, in hopes of keeping some semblance of pride.  Part 1 consisted of me deciding that I needed to be a real man and climb the ridge behind the house.  After encountering a few Samoans who thought I was pretty crazy, I pretty much decided to try to walk straight up the ridge.  And by walk, what I really mean is crawl/slide on my stomach down until I grab a tree root to stop me from sliding down the mountain.  Somehow, I made it to the top, where I found some pink trail blazes that I followed for 30 minutes or so along the ridge line.  Eventually the blazes stopped appearing, so what did I do? I kept going.  Who cares if I didn't have any food, water, phone, or knowledge of where I was?  I'm an adventurer.  I can handle these jungle-mountains!  And handle them I did.  A few sheer drops prevented me from finding my way back, and I got chased by some wild dogs and saw a scary, bigger animal, but I eventually made it down, mostly by way of sliding on my butt from tree to tree which would slow my fall.  Seriously, going down these steep ridges ain't easy!

shortest distance between two points is a straight line, right?

Fast forward 10 days...

My memory is sharp as a tack.  If only I had food and water I wouldn't have had to cut my excellent adventure short.  So this time, I pack food, water, cell phone, and even Lisa's headlamp.  PREPARED ADVENTURER!!  Last night, Lisa had showed me that I didn't have to go piss of neighbors (who apparently don't like me kicking rocks all the way down the ridge and possibly causing a landslide) by climbing straight up the ridge behind our house.  A short walk from the house is the Blunt's Point trail, which is a half-mile trail up to... Blunt's Point, where I can pretend that I'm a World War II gunman, scanning the horizon for enemy warships, all while watching out for the mutant toads that have laid siege to the cannons.

mutant toad

Mutant toad escapes Lisa's foot of fury

Lisa, distracting the heavy artillery

time check: 4:25pm; turn-around time: 5:45pm

As a prepared and responsible adventurer, I set a turnaround time so I wouldn't be stuck on the ridge at night and fall down cliffs I couldn't see.  I was also determined to stay with the pink blazes, and followed the "trail" all the way to these weird cement things. (Full disclosure: pictures below were from Part 1; it wasn't sunny out yesterday)

see the trail? still following the pink blazes here...

Matafao...next conquest?

the views are great...if you like trees

weird cement things

if a nuke goes off i'm getting in one of those

the only way to stay on the trail is to look in the air for the next pink blaze 

I was determined to stay with the pink blazes.  Where would they lead?  I had no idea.  But I was convinced they would lead me somewhere.  And it would be worth it!  I thought I lost the trail a few times, but instead of continuing on, the prepared adventurer backtracked to the nearest pink blaze, and got back on the "path".  I think someone had sabotaged the trail by putting random pink blazes away from the trail.  Because more than once a pink blaze led me away from the trail (as judged by future pink blaze locations).  Obviously, someone didn't want me to find something.  But I would not be dissuaded!  Not even when the blazes just stopped.  I must have hit the apex of the ridge, as I started going down.  Once again I had to use my butt as a brake a few times.  I started hearing voices of kids; I could make it down pretty easily without having to go all the way back to Blunt's Point.  Why would I want to go back the way I came, when I could do more exploring!  So I continued on, with half of a 1.5-liter Fiji water left, some peanuts, and my cell phone showing 5:45.  

Rather than head down to the voices, I turned left and went along the ridge.  I learned that walking along the side of a mountain is probably not the best idea.  Especially when you're in the rainforest and the ground gives under you.  With the help of some friendly trees, I negotiated the side of the ridge and headed...somewhere.  Rule #1 hiking in the jungle: always keep your weight uphill; Rule #2: know your trees!  I was quickly learning which trees and tree roots I could count on to hold my weight.  Eventually I realized that I was probably going away from civilization so I should probably head down, as it was getting very close to the 6:30ish sunset.  I found a wash, which, although fairly steep, I gauged would be the easiest route down.  And then...the skies opened up.  And I couldn't have been happier about it.  I was covered in dirt all over and it felt like a great shower.

the wash (which became a stream) i followed down 

flattering self-portrait as the downpour began

after 20 minutes of downpour...look at that toughness!

It was raining SO hard with no sign of stopping.  I guess this is why it's called the rainforest...and it IS the wet season.  Man, I was feeling great!!  I even started singing at the top of my lungs, since it was a rare opportunity to do so without having police or animal control called in.  The wash started to fill up with water, and I was a bit concerned about flash flooding, but the water felt so good.  And I knew it would lead me down.  Just as I was finishing "American Girl" I came to a bridge over the stream.  I pulled myself out and stopped singing.  Best not to scare the locals.  I had made it...I knew I still had a long walk back, but I had hit civilization.  Perfect timing too, as it was just getting dark.  

But my adventure wasn't over yet.  And there was no time for photos of this last, unexpected part.  Suddenly, 5 dogs jumped out and started running at me.  I'd been taught well by Lisa and her roommates.  I brushed the ground, as if picking up a rock, and feigned a throwing motion.  One dog hesitated for a second, but then started charging again.  I was yelling "Halu! Halu!" like any well-trained Samoan would, and faking throwing rocks, but these dogs were having none of it.  I never knew dogs to be this scary!  I could see all the teeth on the lead dog and he started biting at me...I kept backpedaling but the dogs were right on top of me...until...I fell off the road and down a hill.  I said a few PG13-rated words.  I had hit my left knee on a rock pretty hard.  But I took off, running through the brush.  I got down to the road father down, only to have 4 more dogs come at me from another side.  Crap!  This time I found an actual rock and was read to use it, but just as I was about to, a woman started yelling at the dogs.  They were her dogs...and with some persuading, she convinced them that I wasn't yummy dog chow.  Whew!  They wouldn't have actually hurt me, right?  Actually, these were her guard dogs, and trained to attack intruders.  "You are very lucky. I'd better walk you down," she told me.  I could see why.  I guess the dogs had sounded their doggie alarm, because 15 others that had come out for the excitement.  I kept the rock in my hand, just in case.    

Some shirtless rugby players were walking back to their houses.  Who better to judge toughness than rugby players?  "You weren't scared of the warthogs?"  "You are lucky you escaped the snakes."  They had some interesting ideas of what lay in the jungle.  This tough palagi is now invited to play rugby this afternoon!