Português of the Week

comemoração - celebration

Monday, February 21, 2011

Frio de Janeiro

It's cold waking up on a rock 2,755 feet above sea level.

I'll start from the beginning.

It's Saturday afternoon. Macela and I are leaving a bloco in Ipanema.

Macela: "Do you want to go on a midnight hike with me and some friends?"

Bob: "Do we have time to meet up with Luiz after?" It's Luiz's birthday and he's going to Lapa.

Macela: "Well...not really. it's gonna have to be one or the other."

Bob: "Alright, well let me call Luiz to say happy birthday."

That was the only information I was given about this hike. Granted, my Portuguese is still pretty bad and Macela could very well have given me a lot more details...but still. I still blame my ill-preparedness on her.

We meet up with Ellen, Priscilla, and about 5 other people around midnight and head over to the other meeting spot. (I should explain that in Rio, a lot of time is spent on meeting up.)

While we wait, it is only natural for one of the dudes to go buy a bottle of vodka and a bottle of coke for us to kill by the time the rest of the group shows up.

Just as the last drop of Smirnoff is gulped down, the others show up. I call them the others because they are just that. A seriously athletic group equipped with ropes, hiking boots, sleeping bags (that's when I found out we were sleeping up there), headlamps and other camping gadgets. Wow, I thought, these Brazilians really go all out.

Little did I know (and again, I blame Macela) the others would be the only prepared ones.

Here's the crew:

The trek begins. The path gets narrower and narrower, steeper and steeper. At first, little branches in the trail are the only obstacles. Then come the unseeable boulders, bridges, ridges, holes in the ground...and it just keeps going.

About an hour in, I'm dripping with sweat. Ellen's shouting and singing devolves into sporadic comments and eventually silence. The others are kind enough to spread themselves out so the almost-sober half have some light. The moon is now barely visible through the forest trees. We're nearing the top...so it seems.

2 hours go by as we finally reach a scenic view. I catch my breath, have some water and look out over Barra de Tijuca. It's a stunning coastline, though not as beautiful as the other side of the hill. I scope out the area, almost certain that our sleeping spot is somewhere near. That's when someone points up. That's right, up. Not at a 45 degree angle...but straight up. It's a huge rock face. The peak of Rio. I wasn't ready for this.

A few moments later we reach the Carrasqueira--a 50 foot rock wall. In the moonlight, it looks like the side of an apartment building. The guy with the rope goes up first with his headlight and throws down the line. The rest of the others space themselves as the first person goes up. Ellen is convinced that the fun level has bottomed out, and is content with not going up. "C'mon Elle, just do it," I say. It's funny how you can convince someone else and yourself at the same time.

One by one everyone goes up. Some slower than others. We're told not to use the rope. Apparently, it's only a safety tool. It's my turn. In high school, my friend Matt and I used to go climbing all the time in Malibu canyon. Sure we had climbing shoes and a crash pad, but I felt confident. It only took one glance down to scare me shitless. Without the others and their flashlights on their heads I would've fallen to my death. No doubt about it. But I survive. And the trail becomes a trail again.

At about 3:30 we reach the top. The temperature drops about 10 degrees. 20 to 30 other people are already on the giant flat rock. Sleeping bags sprawled out. Music blaring from an ipod or something. I walk to the other side of the rock to see the real view. It's amazing. It might be 4 in the morning, but Rio is not asleep. The mountains, beaches, clouds, streets, cars, lakes. It's like God made this place so that people could see the world from his eyes for a day.
After an hour of admiring the peak, everyone gets a few hours of sleep before the morning descent. Macela redeems herself by packing an extra blanket and some sandwiches.










I wake up to this.
And this.
And this.

Absolutely a beauty. If I had known I would be waking up in the most beautiful spot on earth I would've brought something to leave there...you know so if I ever had a bad day I would know that something of mine was at that place. I brought nothing, but I'll always have the memory.

Going back down is a pleasure cruise:

The daytime version of the Carrasqueira is a fun adrenaline rush. Not a death climb of blackness.
Can you imagine climbing that shit at night?

We get to the bottom around 10AM. My legs, scraped and sore, will forever be jealous of my eyes. But that's just the life of a leg, isn't it? Doing all the work and getting none of the spoils. Let's take this moment to thank legs, all legs, for taking it all in strides.

The Rock...
...and the crew that conquered it.

I'd say the adventure was a team effort. After all, there's no I in Bras l.


Back to work on Monday. Life it good.

3 comments:

Unknown said...

So glad you are there Bobby! Love you.

pod said...

Didnt we agree on the "no crazy sh t" rule?

Anonymous said...

I just found your blog today and linked to it on my own blog. I'm a California girl living half the time in Rio das Ostras and I'll be spending some time doing the catch-up on your writing.

Nice to (blog) meet you!

http://thetaoofme.com/2010/09/22/other-brazilian-expat-blogs/