Papa #1 or the Assault on Bisoke

Woke up in Musanze to an overcast sky that warned of rain. Thinking back, we found it remarkable that we couldn’t remember being in rain even one time on the trip so far. It rained overnight in Kampala once, but otherwise it had been dry during the days and while traveling.

Today we were taking a shot to get some coveted spots on a guided hike up to the top of Mount Bisoke (3711m/12175 ft), a dormant volcano with a beautiful crater lake at the summit. The 75USD/pp hikes are best booked in advance, but the web site was cumbersome at best and even our local friends Bora and Laurent found themselves at odds with it. The hotel staff suggested we could show up at the visitors center and be added to the hike in the morning, so that was our plan.

First impressions of Rwanda were that there was more of a language barrier for English-speakers like us. Most people we’d met were clearly more comfortable with French than English, but Kinyarwanda is the language shared by all Rwandans. That’s a big change from Uganda, which has over twenty-five unique languages, with English acting as the unifying language.

Denis was kind enough to ferry us up to the meeting point for all of the tours, including those who sprung for the 1500USD treks to see gorillas. At first we were worried, because a British family in front of us was told that there were no spots remaining. Laurent was wise to the system and managed to procure nine additional slots for them and us after some sort of negotiation. After some “faffing about” with credit cards and passport numbers we were declared good to go, and then the deluge began.

We had been advised to not bring raincoats because they’d be deadweight on our trip. Not because it would never rain, but because it would never rain for *long*. In Africa, they said, you would just wait out the rain because roads and trails being what they were, rain is a non-starter for most activities. And that turned out to be true, because we “faffed around” some more while waiting for the rain to end before our hike would begin. It needs to be said that at no point were we informed of what the “plan” was or when we’d be leaving. This is something that, like Malaria, seems to be endemic to Africa. We were able to rent a set of ill-fitting raincoats for our team from a local entrepreneur, just in case the rain were to continue.

The next mission of the day was to get from park headquarters to the start of our hike. Thankfully Denis had stuck around because we were responsible for arranging that transport on our own and the road was a terrible road only accessible by 4×4.  We were able to generate a bit of Africa-magic by giving a couple of other tourists from France a lift, along with the overall hike director. It seemed strange to use that these sorts of details weren’t factored in from the start but hey, it’s Africa!

In some ways, I feel like I’m overselling the complications of going on a hike, but really it was quite an involved process. However, once we actually started hiking, we settled into a nice routine. We were were organized into numbered groups, subject to change based on our pace up the mountain. The trail would have us climb around 4000 ft — total hike time of around 7-8 hrs. The first 30-45 minutes had us walking up a relatively light incline along an old dirt/rock road. We were the second group to depart, but somehow still labeled group one. The group in front of us, presumably group zero(?) was a very large group of people in park uniforms.

After some time, we all came to a break point as the rain came to an end as well. One of the park employees who had pushed ahead earlier, a guy with a name badge of “Jim”, asked to take our coats and bags for us. We found out that he was our assigned “porter” for the hike. We were reluctant, as we’re used to taking care of our own gear, but he was insistent so on we went with Jim holding our two backpacks and all of our extra raingear

The terrain became increasingly difficult and some of the other hikers began to slow down. At this point we were at around 9500ft and we were all feeling the altitude. What used to be a relatively safe path with good tread, started devolving into a muddy rock slide.  As I was making my way up a particularly high step up, I felt a hand grip mine from behind and I was boosted up. Looking back, I saw a tiny woman smiling and urging me forward. What I didn’t know at the time was that I had just been adopted for the day by a Rwandan woman named Pelegie.

At first I tried to do as much of the hike as I could without assistance. There were flatter sections that I could easily handle, but eventually I realized it was a futile effort. In broken english, Pelegie introduced herself and grabbed my hand tightly and for the most part, didn’t let go. Looking around, I saw that I wasn’t alone. Every hiker had been paired up with at least one other porter — sometimes two. Our initial group of 20-30 had withered to about five hikers with about the same number of porters — plus both a leading and trailing soldier with an assault rifle.

We learned that there were two different reasons for the soldiers — the official reason was because of dangerous animals we might run into. But probably the more important reason is that just on the other side of this volcano is the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC) and across that unsecured border there are Rwandan rebels who occasionally try to sabotage the current Rwandan government by attacking civilians and tourists. Suffice to that we were happy to never did run into any Rwandan rebels.

The forest grew thicker but the views were stunning, and we made consistent progress. Suddenly there was a commotion ahead and we were hearing muffled whispers. We couldn’t quite make out what they were saying, but we could tell that the lead guide was excited and gesturing to be quiet and tell the people behind us to do the same. As we approached, we found out why and were absolutely stunned.

We later found out this was incredibly rare and lucky of us. People pay a lot of money for official gorilla treks, and we just happened to stumble on a few of them. In fact, there was a group of five, but we only saw two of them. We were told to move quietly and we had to relinquish our walking sticks, so as not to spook or antagonize the gorillas. Energized, we continued upwards with the help of our porters.

Up to this point, we head been hiking in the order of Ben first, followed by Liz, followed by Tim. At some point Tim got behind, which made the guys with guns nervous because we were spread out too far. After this, Tim had to go first and I was able to communicate with Pelegie that he was my dad. She called him Papa #1 because he had to go first due to his tardiness. Papa #1, indeed!

After about three hours of hiking, we were within minutes of the top. Pelegie gave me a smile and said “three minutes to top!” and I was glad.

On top of the rim, our porters disappeared into the background as all the hikers celebrated with high-fives, pictures and some snacks that we’d thought to bring up. In fact, most people did the hike without any food or water (including all of the porters, as far as we could tell), but TimB’Liz was well-prepared with several thousand calories of cookies, crackers, raisins and g-nuts. We were happy to share our stash with everyone else, including any porters or security folk who were lingering around. They seemed surprised but grateful.

We were anxious to be in the first group headed down, but we did have to wait for the last group to make it to the top. There wasn’t really safe room to have people going both directions on these trails, at least not a bunch of idiots like us. Liz was lucky enough to get a second porter for help on the way down, maybe after a bit of a slip or stumble. 

The way down seemed quicker, but ultimately it took nearly as long to descend as to ascend. We took breaks to keep the group together and our porters were even more conscientious. More than once I was able to come to Pelegie’s aid as well, as we were pretty much attached at the hand, but more often than not it was the reverse. She knew exactly how to place her feet as a backstop for mine and gave me great advice on choosing a route down the mountain. Everyone had a few falls, some harder than others. Papa #1 dinged up his elbow pretty good but we were equipped with a medical kit.

As we approached the bottom everyone was in a great mood and the weather turned beautiful with the sun coming out as we passed through beautiful eucalyptus forests and potato fields.

Once we reached the bottom we gave our guides hugs and tips ($$) and headed to the little shop to get some sodas and debrief while we waited for Denis to come pick us up.

Overall an amazing hike that I would cautiously recommend to anyone. Ultimately, very challenging and not everyone had the same experience; one person made it to the top but was too tired or injured to come down, so twelve porters were sent up with a stretcher to carry them down the mountain. In retrospect, it’s perfectly clear to me why they charge $75 for these hikes, given how managed they need to be and how potentially dangerous they could be.

We were terribly muddy and when we returned to the hotel, but the valet/doorman/utility hitter said that we could have the hotel clean our shoes up for only a couple bucks. Amazing service — we were very grateful to have such kind and helpful people at our hotels throughout the trip. More than anything they probably didn’t want us tracking dirt down the hallways and in the rooms!