Gorda Peak
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In the afternoon, we decided to take a trip to Gorda Peak National Park. This was the highest point on the Island, and they had built an observation tower at the peak. We took to the road through Spanish Town, and headed to the northern half of the island, which is quite mountainous, and more sparsely populated. The road leads through a narrow neck of land, with Savannah Bay on the left (Photo #35),
As soon as the road left town, its condition improved markedly. (Photos #36 and 37) The pavement was much smoother, and devoid of potholes and speed bumps. We traversed the neck and started a steep climb up the mountain. There were a number of spots where one could pull off and get out and admire the view. We missed the entrance to the Park, and used one of those pull-offs to turn around and go back. We saw the sign for the park, and pulled into the entrance, only to encounter a fence blocking our way (Photos # 39 and 40). There was room for us, and perhaps one more car in the turn-off. We got out and walked past the fence to find a small clearing that was probably a parking lot at some time. Some National Park!
The tourist guidebooks had informed us that there was a footpath up to the peak, where there was an observation tower (Photo #38). We looked at each other. "Shall we?" "OK, I'm game."
The trail was quite steep, and very rugged, with rocks and muddy spots a-plenty. (Photos # 41 - 43) The fenced-off parking lot meant there would few if any other hikers on the trail, and as it turned out, we encountered no one else. Yet the trail still showed some signs of primitive maintenance. Some of the muddier patches had a few 2 x 6 boards laid down to cover them, although they were so haphazaredly laid that they were apt to shift, and dump your feet in the mud anyway. I had not brought any serious hiking shoes. My day-to-day footwear was a pair of elastic water-shoes, quite comfy, but not very rugged. I had also brought with me a pair of leather loafers, which was what I was wearing that day. A little more supportive, but less than ideal for the conditions. I hadn't gone too far, when I started worrying if I was up to this trek. I am, after all, pushing 80. But, I girded my loins, and pressed on.
After about 45 minutes, I was really huffing and puffing, and sweating. I could not remember the last time I had exerted myself that strenuously, and continuously for such a long a period of time. I did stop occasionally to rest, and drank water. Jenny seemed to handle it better than I. She's 10 years younger than me. I looked at my watch, and it was 3:45. I did not want to be on this trail when it got dark. I said, "OK, if we don't see signs of a summit in 15 minutes, let's decide if we should turn back." Just before 4;00, the path leveled out some, and the sky seemed a little brighter above the treetops. The trail declined slightly, but disappeared around a bend. Jenny said, "You rest here for a while. I'll go scout ahead." I was glad for the break, and sat a while with my back against a tree. She was back in about 10 minutes with an optimistic prognosis, so I got up, and we pressed on.
Sometime after 4:00, we finally reached the observation tower. It was a structure of aluminum girders, maybe 40 feet tall with stairways up to the top. I trudged up to the top, wondering at the effort it must have taken to construct such a structure in such an inaccessible location. It must have been transported up, either assembled or in pieces, by helicopter. The sun was getting low, so I did not want to tarry to enjoy the view. I snapped the four photos 44 through 47, and we headed back in a hurry.
They say it's more work to go downhill in those conditions than uphill. Don't believe it. We were really truckin' along, all the while being very careful to watch our footing. I have a regimen of running a mile every other morning. (Well, running is perhaps an exaggeration. These days it's usually somewhere around twelve minutes, plus or minus, and I hate every single minute of it.) But it stood me in good stead, and was able to maintain a brisk pace all the way to the bottom. And Jenny was right there with me. It was still light when I collapsed into the driver's seat of the car.
Too weary to prepare dinner, we made another trip to the Island Pot. I forget what we ordered. I think it was some kind of fish. And back home and to an early bed. Undressing, I discovered that I survived the ordeal better than my shoes. (Photo #48)
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