The Mulanje Masterpiece

Opportunities present themselves in any and all moments and it is the desire and willingness to accept these moments turning them into realities that transforms one’s day and even one’s life. This was the story of my life this last weekend as I was asked if I wanted to climb the highest peak in southern Africa. Quickly and excitedly, I jumped on the offer hoping to make the climb a success story to retell starting on Monday morning.  

With the weekend now booked and the execution of the trek in place, all that seemed left to worry about was the psychological process of prepping myself for the long haul. In past experiences where I’ve accepted the challenge to backpack or hike up the face of a mountain, I’ve often become disinterested, exhausted, and emotionally distraught. Something about exerting excessive amounts of energy and muscle into climbing from point A to point B has never appealed to my senses. Even for whatever value the view possessed or the bragging rights declared. Would this climb end in abnormal fashion for me?

Friday afternoon arrived and I escorted the children out the school door and off for their weekend. In a hurry to pack, I began exchanging thoughts with my adventurous side contemplating what to bring and what not to bring. The real clincher was deciding how warm I wanted to pack. After all, it had been over 10 years since I stepped foot on an African mountain. I threw in a pair of sweats, a sweatshirt, and my handy dandy Camp MiVoden rain shell amongst the essential shirts and shorts just in case. Observing my nearly full pack, I surprised myself by how fast it filled up.

The Mulanje Mountains

The Mulanje Mountains located roughly 100km east of Blantyre rise majestically up into the sky. What makes them so eye catching are the massive granite faces that stretch outwards in all directions extending to great heights. Even more thrilling are the faces that shoot straight up without the support or existence of foothills. The peaks grow from normal ground level to gigantic mountains in the sky immediately. This would prove unfortunate for us, as we would have to hike up from a lower elevation than desired.

We arrived Friday evening just in time to set up camp at the base of the mountains and begin making supper before the sun laid to rest for the night. We feasted on a braai (Africaans for cooking meat over a fire similar to a barbeque) and passed around humorous stories for undemanding enjoyment. The night would not last long for we needed an early wake up to set us on track on making it to the hut located at the base of the peak that reaches the summit.

The plateau and the remains of the deforestation.

Sabbath morning we set out up the hill at 6:31. Two hired porters carried out packs while we barely managed to carry ourselves. The first couple of kilometers of the hike wrapped around one face of the mountain leading us across a stream several times that had multiple 20ft+ waterfalls and small pools to cool off in. The path eventually led us up onto a plateau where everything looked liked it had recently been burned to the ground. Indeed that was the case. In an effort to eradicate the Mexican Pine, an invasive species to the area, every grass, shrub, and bush had been exterminated. The plateau appeared as a valley in comparison with the many peaks that surrounded it. In one corner nestled away from high winds and heavy hiker traffic was a Chinese establishment housed with minors and mineral enthusiasts. A recent discovery of “rare earth” as it is called has beckoned the Chinese to reap, steal, and profit from every ounce of precious mineral they find and you can believe that not one penny is ever going to further the people and economy of Malawi. A likely story indicates one or two Malawian government officials are getting paid off to keep their mouths quiet while the china men are running away with Malawi’s wealth.

Tropical ferns and bushes.

The jungle in the ravine.

The leg of our two-day journey took us across the plateau and down a ravine filled with immense tree cover and jungle ferns. Swinging from branch to branch came irritated monkeys as they screamed amongst one another. Subsequently, the path led us up the opposing side of the ravine and up over a saddle between two higher peaks. The view from the saddle was incredible! What was even more astonishing was the hut that now came into sight way down in the distance and across the next plateau.

The mid-camp hut from atop the saddle.

We arrived at mid-camp around 12 noon. After an exhausting but visually rewarding hike we were done hiking-for the day. The cabin rested against the base of the highest peak. The view from the deck ironically resembled the view Hitler was given when the German military surprised him with a beautiful mountain top mansion in the secluded mountains of Austria for Christmas for which it was named the Eagle’s Nest. I pulled out a mattress and basked in the sun for what seemed like eternity. Oh how it felt soothing to soak in the rays and have my feet off the ground. Time passed in a hurry and soon the sun had set over one of the westward peaks. The small cabin began to howl as the wind picked up speed. Now, it was cold enough for a sweater and sweats.

Sunday morning arrived before I would have desired it to begin and we were up, once again at 6:30, starting the final leg of the hike-to the summit. The beginning stage of the hike was rather enjoyable and fairly straightforward. In no time had our clearly marked path turned into a jumbled game of follow the red painted arrows atop the many boulders that now covered the face. Past the tree line and ascending above the cloud line, we marched up over, under, and around small, large, and gargantuan granite boulders. The temperature dropped with every breath and the vegetation dwindled with every step.

The view in one direction from the summit.

We climbed up and around the last part of the peak and behold, finally, there before our very eyes, laid the summit in all its glory. Blowing furiously in the wind flew a small Malawian flag attached to the summit marker. All that existed atop the peak were a few small crevices in the rock filled with rainwater and primitive lichen deposits that covered the nooks and crannies. Way above the cloud line, this ‘island in the sky’ stood erect with a clear representation of God’s architectural ability. The wind blew uncontrollably creating a rather high wind chill factor but that didn’t impede my thoughts as a gazed down and around at the vast countryside hand crafted by ‘The Great Designer’. Atop the Sepitwa Peak sitting over 9,000 ft stood a boy who at times feels he has much of life figured out to the very core. Taken back by the sheer size, beauty, and impressive nature of the landscape I realized just how small and insignificant I am to a world full of people just like me. In a moment of deep devotion, I felt surrounded by His grace and cradled by the soft comforting arms of Christ.

The group on a successful summit of Mount Mulanje.

The moment was soon erased by the chattering of my teeth and the little dance I was now performing in an effort to remain warm. We snapped a few pictures, each chugged a coke, and made the trek back down the steep path to the hut and back down the rest of the mountain to the base camp. Left was a small blister on the inside of my right pinkie toe, a few pictures, and an absolutely exhausted body, I returned home safely in one piece. To answer the question posed at the beginning of this entry, yes, indeed the journey had concluded in abnormal fashion. It was a first for several accomplishments for me but remarkably a first for the amount of joy I experienced over a short weekend that cost $11.