Climbing the Caribbean's highest peak

A blog post by Adam. For one and a half days we hiked up, and then for a day and a half we walked down. It was a good workout, but with mules carrying our gear, the 23 kilometer 6,000+ foot climb was certainly manageable.

It was an experience unlike any other during my time in the DR. First, there is something about being in the Caribbean and feeling truly cold, with temperatures in the 30s. Second, despite the fact that much of the island is forested mountains, it was the first time there were no signs of development for as far as the eyes could see. Third, although someone did bring a boom box and turned it on for a few hours at base camp (just below a sign that said "no music") it was probably the quietest place I had ever been in the DR. In general, aside from chatter while we hiked, camp fire storytelling, and a few mule neighs, silence enveloped the hike. After seven months of near constant music, loud voices, and crowing roosters, Pico Duarte was an oasis of rare calm.

Still, in the end it was very much like every other experience I've written about on the blog...once again the adventure was more about the people than the place. We traveled in a group of thirty from Santo Domingo to the peak and back. Most of our group was middle class (a poor person could never had paid for the $150 trip), but we also weren't the super wealthy....we met the wealthy folks along the trail. They ate gourmet meals served with placemats, silverware, and real plates and we mainly survived on boiled yuca and processed pork products (I stuck to large servings of yuca). 

It was a mostly Dominican crowd that also included three Americans from Clínica de Familia (Chloe, Amish, and me), a giant Quebecois PE teacher, and a small Finnish woman who was visiting a Dominican friend she had studied with in college in Saskatchewan. Among the Dominicans there was a father daughter pair from Santo Domingo, a young economist from the Dominican Central Bank hiking in loafers, a pair of woman friends, three young engineers from Santiago, and a guide from Sereno de la Montaña (who along with the Canadien PE teacher finished the hike in half the amount of time as the rest of us). 

With the economist and miles of undeveloped land.

In spite of our varied backgrounds, and the fact that most of us were strangers to one another at the beginning of the hike there was a level of camaraderie we have become increasingly accustomed to during our time in the Dominican Republic. Throughout the hike people stopped to check in on one another. Even more than that, they shared their meager food supplies even if it meant they themselves went slightly hungry (our middle class hike did not include lunch on the first 10 hour day of hiking which meant we were dependent on our own limited food stocks to keep us going - for the record, I packed 4 PB&J sandwiches so I was doing better than most). At meal times we gathered around and shared stories and on the final night we came together to swap jokes. When we parted after 3 days together there were lots of hugs and handshakes.

I admit I haven't been on many organized trips in the US, so perhaps the same level of friendship would quickly congeel on a similar trip in the U.S. Still, human connection in the Dominican Republic is something special. It's something contagious...even I found myself offering my not so tasty but critically important sandwiches to other hikers. Time and again I am impressed by how open, generous, and caring Dominicans are with one another (and with foreigners like me). Thus, surrounded by Dominicans, I could still feel warmth even at the Caribbean's coldest highest point. 

At the top of the pico with my fellow Americans and the man from Sereno de la Montaña