Roraima
This mountain was one of the reasons I wanted to come to Venezuela, and it didn't disappoint. I have plenty of gripes about the tour, even though we went with the company that is supposedly the best, and is the most expensive. Just little things like not quite having enough food and "guides" who know the way but aren't very informative. This last complaint is a recurring theme so perhaps I am at fault. And our poor guide went way beyond what I think is required in giving up his sleeping bag for a girl who had stupidly got hers wet, and also fixed boots on the top of the mountain.
Roraima is one of a number of tepuis that rise from the Gran Sabana, or great savanna. It is pretty countryside of soft hills, with trees hugging the waterways, but not venturing far beyond . Tepuis are ancient structures, which have survived 1.8 billion years of erosion and now present sheer cliffs and eerily flat tops to the world, as the surrounding lands have eroded. The cute lethargic black frogs that live on top apparently have more in common with African frogs than their South American cousins suggesting effective isolation since Gondwana.
Roraima is not the largest of tepuis, but it still has a top covering 34 km sq and its summit is almost 2800 meters above sea level. Early accounts were the inspiration for Conan Doyle's Lost World, a preposterous account of dinosaurs and cave men.
It, and other tepuis, rise out of the savanna, but the savanna first slopes up to them, no doubt a result of erosion, before hitting a perfectly vertical wall. This portion of the slope is forested, unlike the savanna and the tepui, so there is a range of habitats over the course of the walk.
We spent two gentle days getting to base camp, a muddy spot well up the slope but several hours short of the wall. One of our biggest problems over these two days was entertaining ourselves, because with such short hiking days we had a lot of free time. Day two involves a couple of river crossings, now with the assistance of ropes which they put in a month ago after a porter was killed crossing at high water.
During these two days the mountain was mostly invisible, concealed by cloud that lifted only occasionally.
Day three was a steady hike uphill to the top, but it was not especially strenuous. The route has been well chosen and, like Table Mountain, follows a natural fissure up the cliff. It rained steadily the day we made our ascent. It was not heavy but it was thorough, and everyone got soaked. This was fine during the ascent, but once we reached the exposed top a cold wind made merry with all those wet clothes. Getting wet seems likely even on a rare sunny day though as the path passes under a high but drizzly waterfall. We barely noticed a difference.
The top really is different. Up here the rock appears to be quite soft and has eroded into unusual shapes, with rounded stones, gullies, cliffs, pools of water and beautiful collections of plants. Once up, the top is not really flat at all, but has high points and depressions. The guide books typically describe it as a moonscape, but this is not really right. It is predominantly rocky and in places barren, which does give it a luna feel, but the water and plants are too plentiful to really suggest a moonscape. Really, it defies description. What struck me most though was that, due to the pools and the frequent mists, it reminded me most of the moors described in Conan Doyle's other books (think Hound of the Baskervilles). It is like a wetland based on rock. And it floods very quickly too, as we discovered on our day exploring the top when all the paths turned to rivers.
The views from the top to the neighbouring tepui Kukenan and across the savanna are impressive, but they don't last long before the next wave of mist rolls in. This is a land in which a pretty landscape can completely disappear while you compose a photo.
There are lots of endemic species up here, marooned in a cold wetland environment. Carnivorous plants abound, as do black frogs. But there is little noticeable insect life for them all to eat.
We were finally grateful that we have packed clothing for Patagonia. Roraima was far colder than any in the group had anticipated and we were grateful for our own sleeping bags (seemingly far warmer than those provided by the company)and our hats and gloves. Unlike others, we were not reduced to wearing plastic bags on our feet because our shoes were wet, and slept very soundly (though a little guiltily) while others shivered wakefully through the night.
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