Our Deshaies River Scramble on Guadeloupe
04 April 2010 | Simpson Bay Marina, Simpson Bay Lagoon, St. Maarten
kurt flock, sunny, mild, warm, nice
Here's a Happy Easter photo of Kate I took a week or so ago near the salt ponds at Saline during our visit to St. Barth. Clearly, she's alive and doing well!
[New photo gallery uploaded: 4/2/2010: The Deshaies River Scramble].
Up again at 4:44 a.m. You can sleep when you're dead. Meg and Eric made it in yesterday, and we joined Gordon & Louise, Casey & Laurilea, Ron, and Roger & Jane for happy hour at Jimbo's. Shaking off the effects of too much rum last night. Managed to get one more album posted this morning. It's from our mad river scramble up the Deshaies River on Guadeloupe.
Deshaies was a very nice stop during our two week sail down island from St. Maarten and back. The town is surrounded by much natural beauty. It has a nice harbor into which the Deshaies River empties. The guide books suggests a hike up the river bed will be rewarded with the view of a beautiful water fall. With this in mind, our group rose early one morning and with more enthusiasm than preparation, we set out up a winding road that led us to a spot in the river bed that approximated a trail. Thus began a journey of several hours during which we found ourselves lost on more than one occasion, looking for the right path that would lead us to the prized vista.
Along the way, we hopscotched from rock to rock as we followed the meandering stream flowing down from the island's higher elevations. The river water was cool and sparkling, but we made every effort, early on, at staying dry. As the morning ripened and the sun moved higher in the sky overhead, it became warmer. It became work picking a way through the boulder strewn riverbed. This was truly a scramble, more so than a hike, but the scenery was gorgeous, and we found ourselves captivated by the raw natural beauty of the island and the expectations that accompanied our search for the mythical waterfall.
At one point during the scramble, Norm followed a promising path up the south side of the river bed hoping that eventually it would open to a vista of the falls, but it lead higher, away from the river, and he opted to turn around when he encountered camouflage that suggested he may have wandered into a hidden marijuana growing area. The area we were in was pretty remote, and we had little interest in mixing things up with the principals of this particular agribusiness.
As we wandered and hacked our way through the dense foliage of the rugged terrain, we became absolutely covered in a fine, powdery volcanic ash. Guadeloupe is not far from Montserrat which is home to a recently active and erupting volcano. The fine dust got into everything. It took me nearly an hour to clean the outer casing of my camera, which I foolishly had out of my backpack, hanging around my head.
We had no real idea exactly where we were going, and at one point the stream seemed to split, and the waters from two ravines merged. I went off on my own following the rivulet to the right while everyone else went left. After 20 minutes or so I concluded I was following the wrong path, and I bushwacked my way back over a ridge and hooked back up with the others. Growing hot, tired, and weary, we stopped and took a dip in the cool waters of the stream. At this point, some in the group were ready to pack it in, but Don decided to push on, and eventually he made it to what he presumed was the water falls. Norm and I took another route and followed what looked like a path, but it wasn't what you'd call well worn and was probably just another goat trail of some sort.
Eventually we came upon what we assumed was the falls, but we had chosen a route that took us higher, up a ridge, so our view of the falls was from the side and above. It was barely visible through the dense canopy, so there was really no way to get a photo showing much of anything. The terrain was so steep and risky that we opted to hack our way to where we'd left the others rather than try to descend to the waters at the base of the falls. It was simply too treacherous and neither of us were looking to be evacuated from the area by helicopter.
While Norm and I were hacking around the mountainside, the others, tired of waiting, decided to head down the mountain, following a road we'd seen earlier. Eventually, Norm and I emerged from our bushwack, and we too followed the same road down the mountainside. I have a bad knee, and it took a severe pounding as we descended the steep and winding road. By the time we neared the bottom, I was in such pain that I had to lean on Norm for support in order to make it down the last half mile or so. Going up was much easier than coming down, but this is often the case with hiking and mountain climbing. I remember the saying I'd heard while climbing on Rainier that "Going up is optional, coming down is not." I was definitely ready for some anti-inflamatory drugs and a cold beer.
As hot, dusty, and miserable as it was wandering around on barely existent goat trails and sorting our way through ankle breaking, boulder strewn terrain, the scramble up the Deshaies River gorge was well worth the effort. We rehydrated and licked our wounds at a cheap and breezy beach bar, and made plans for another pitch-in dinner that evening. Just another day in paradise, I mused - in a place called Deshaies on picturesque Guadeloupe.