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Cliff August 29th, 2008

Day 1, Saturday 22nd December

Today began with a slow wake of scouts wading through their morning fatigue across ManSang’s sports ground at 0900 hours. It may have been too early but we began anyway, unpacking our rusty camping equipment, unused for the past half year. The troop checked the stuff a week ago, so it should be fine. Cubs began pouring into the warm bus as we mingled in the freezing cold packing the tents, gas and cook sets. Through one hour and a little bit more, we were finished (tired and exhausted) we boarded the bus and began our tinned sardine experience.

Finally, after numerous bumps, we reached the campsite’s boundary. There was still ’some way’ uphill. So we trudged up and up and up. It wasn’t so hot now but the blistering winds bit into our sweat and we felt cold. Feeling the need to exert myself more, I decided to run down again -yes, run down the steep hill again to pick up our troop’s lunch:

 

Still on the subject of pitching tents, we found the ground here to be exceptionally soft and tent peg friendly. It was therefor decided, on behalf of resource-saving, that offerings and sacrifice of cow would not be necessary this time for the God of Hammering:

During that time, the cubs were busily preparing our lunch - which was probably this camp’s most satisfying meal, including the leftover starchmeal of course. As the camp neared it’s completion, the odors of grilled meat caroused across the site. People peered across the field to the BBQ stoves… where I was, photographing the contents of the stoves and the wholehearted participation of instructors and young people in the barbecuing process:

The smoldering yams and honey coated meats soon attracted many of the scouts who joined in the feast consumption and preparation, almost overtaking the progress of the younger cub members. The tents were pitched now at about 1200 hours:

I
got round to the formal business of the troop’s flag pole. Constructed of two long bamboo poles tied down with guys and tent pegs, it stood firm against the gentle winter breeze. The camp had just begun! Scouts who pursued the Voyager badge embarked immediately after the flag raising ceremony to trek to some faraway place. Others remained to host activities, clean up and play.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The early afternoon went well and apart from a few casualties from mugger attacks, we were happy and well.

The SPLs got together to maintain the senior cubs’ knotting skills whilst some other
scouts started to host their activities; Cat n’ Mouse, PL Ball… just to name a few. The afternoon was fast over when the cold of sundown set in. The instructors began to light the new oil lamps and they reheated the barbecue stove to begin their private hotpot dinner. I had serious problems as darkness enclosed the campsite. Firstly, I was freezing, secondly, I had precious little battery power to save -so I decided I would take only a few photos of the night scene. This was also to reduce irritation of flash blindness. With the new lamps lit, the scouts gathered together to cook dinner.

It was freezing that night, as forecasted by the observation centers of Hong Kong. I wore gloves but soon discarded them as I realized that they only made my fingers colder. Numb from the biting cold, I spent the rest of the night in front of a smoldering barbecue stove warming myself, admiring nature in a lonely way. 1900 hours and no news of the trekkers still. Even the cubs had had their fill and were prepping for their nightwalk.

After the long, lingering dinner, scouts gathered around a lamp and listened to some ‘music’. It was not quite the same without the ol’ DJ but it was OK I guess. The night grew colder and it was great to be huddled around a warm lamp. I, quite mad from the cold began telling a few scouts the Santa Claus story. It proved quite popular and surprised a couple of people. It was my highlight that night, before the ordeal of sleeping outside in freezing cold weather. I must say though, it was almost the same as sleeping indoors as long as you covered your head.

Day 2, Saturday 23rd December 

Early birds’ the word in our camps. No one wakes later than 0700 hours so it didn’t surprise me when sounds of talk came from the surrounding tents. It seemed to drone on through all of last night, hmm… Anyway, the first thing on our agenda today was breakfast. A hot, hearty meal -in England that is. The patrols were prepping breakfast, very aware that the SPLs and instructors were around. A bad breakfast would certainly ruin any prospects of getting through today’s 14.5 kilometre hike, so they prepared some beautiful breakfast.

We took our time eating the food well prepared by fellow scouts before proceeding to raise the morning flag -which had been taken down by Kwok sir the day before and kicked down by some other idiot. Freshened by the morning breeze and the breakfast, we were briefed and the flag was raised.

Today’s morning inspection began promptly at 0847 hours. Things were turned topsy turvy, no groundsheet remained untouched and tent pages lay scattered about on the soft morning dew. Soon, personal belongings would emerge from every campers rucksack and my inspection motto - ‘no secrets in the morning, when you’re drunk or when tortured.’ The poison gas scam uncovered likely terrorists and after the inspection, we believed we were safe from future intrusions of security.

After the security checks, we began to move our heavyweight materials downwards. A task simpler than yesterday’s because we were moving downhill and the food was almost all consumed. Logistics was the topic for conversation during these few hours from 0900 to 1145 hours. 

Then we had some dried food and leftovers from last night for lunch and at 1200 hours prompt, we set of from the campsite towards the main goal of the camp, the 14.5 km hike.

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23rd December - The Hike

We set off from Sui Long Wo campsite at 1200 hours. A merry bunch, we were, able to shake off the chill and the instructors. The beginning route was largely road and challenged only those who ran uphill for the hour it lasted.

The road commanded a magnificent, yet hazy view of Sai Kung and it’s waters. Ignoring the view, the scouts trudged falling behind me or rising ahead of me. Seperation of the scouts can have no state more natural than the seperation experienced during a long, arduous hike. There were four distinct groups. The guys, the slow, the girls and the really slow. The route was labelled as the infamous MacLehose Trail and some doubted whether they could really finish the walk without an overnight pit stop.

The track changed near the summit around Wong Chuk Yeung to a leaf covered dirt path. The fast were indeed fast and only disturbed leaves remained to point out their track. I caught up with them, long enough to take a picture but they ran away from me soon enough, stranded alone in the wilderness.

The view along the summit path was perfect. The sea licked both sides of the slopes and lush shrubs grew at the sides, shielding our legs from the fierce sun and dry winds.

Before reaching our checkpoint, we passed along the side of a massive lump of granite, clouded by haze. Believe your eyes, when I saw this colossus, I thought the walk would certainly aid our dimise.

We managed anyhow by taking a shorter route along a camel’s back (a valley between two spurs). I could see the the others now, pacing along the dragon’s back, so I stopped… and took this amazing photo before charging ahead again.

They were miles ahead so I ran and ran until I saw them climbing up this hill. All this running was draining my morning’s store of V power and I was growing impatient at the speed of the ‘fast ones’.

‘Slow and steady wins the race’ I kept this going in my head and as I caught up with the leaders, I saw an facinating geographical feature. It was a granite outcrop butting out from the side of the hill’s peak.

A batholoith? No perhaps a sill. There are vast numbers of these granite boulders all around Hong Kong Island but they’re probable all covered with shotcrete, the cement stuff they spray on the slopes to stop them from falling down.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Realising the distance they left me behind, I trudged again. Geez, they were really rushing down the slope ^ !

We reached our halfway checkpoint at about 1430 hours, at least 30 minutes faster than the others. Being halfway down the road, I took out my last bottle of V. After drinking a can of V, the tradition is to twist it all the way giving the twisted figure on the right.

Emblazoned with energy, I sat around until all the others arrived. We all slept around minding our own and our friends’ business when someone saw smoke rising from the North foot of the mountain we were resting on. I got up to investigate and discovered this.

With the winds blowing our direction with speed and dryness, it was surprising to find that the scouts who had not witnessed the spectacle were not nercous at all. They sat calmly on the plateau above, unaware of the crisis below. A couple of minutes later, some BlackHawk helicoptors carrying buckets of water appeared from the other side of the mountain to save the disaster that threatened our continued existence on the mountain.

 

After a refreshing rest, we were on our feet again, the fast charging downwards and the rest pacing less quickly behind.

 

 

Recharged by the V, I experimented with lens flare photography styles and found the piece on the left to be the rather contrasting. Our destination, Gilwell Camp was discovered to be only another 7 km from our location, i.e. two and three quarter hours away. Along the way were many forked paths and our scouts paused often to check our orientation and possible locale.

 

Exessive stamina and willpower drove our scouts over peaks, through valleys, past narrow summit paths towards our goal. The skies were darkning now, at about 1730 hours. The sun reduced in glare and cast rarely seen orange and purple shades onto th skies. It would never have been possible to see this at any urban site in Hong Kong but here it was, the beautiful sky and the ever lurking danger of having to walk in darkness should we fail to pace quickly.

 

 

The path was getting omnimously dark now - and perilously cold. Scouts ran off to take advantage of the last streams of sunlight. The ever increasing distance between my comrades and I plus the lighting given stopped me from acquiring any more photos of people, but it did not stop me from taking this long exposure shot of Shatin. The fast people have dissapeared now and I ran to prevent them from causing any damage to themselves - but all in vain. I only managed to catch up to those who had fallen behind. Hey, it’s safer to walk in larger numbers right? Regardless of perils and darkness, I reached Gilwell Camp at 1945 hours and we waited for the others to dribble in.

Enlightened after the long and exhausting journey

Ghosts of Gillwell Camp taken using lights availible

The arrival at Gilwell signalled the technical end of our voyage but the literal is far from that. There remained a massive distance to the foot of the muntain if we wanted to go home. That took us more than one hour to complete and at the end, we sat like tired old horses on the side of the road.

Tags: camping, hiking

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