Celaque
Yesterday morning, we headed out to climb Mount Celaque, or Cerro Las Minas, the highest peak in Honduras at 9,347 feet. It was a great climb. The trail was quite steep at times, and the elevation gain from the trailhead to the summit was around 4,000 feet. The trail meandered through several fascinating ecosystems, beginning in an arid, pine tree forest, then down into a rainforest in the valleys, and finally climbing up to the unique cloud forest ecosystem. Huge, ancient trees, with vines and moss hanging from their branches, loomed all around us, their sheer size and age demanding respect by all trespassers. Wisps of cloud shrouded the forest, and it was so still you could hear the silence. It almost felt haunted. The erie quietness was suddenly broken by loud, clumsy crashing high in the branches of a tree above us, and we soon spotted 4 or 5 spider monkeys, leaping about and scolding us for daring to enter their domain. I was awed by the realization that this forest was still virtually unchanged from how it had been for hundreds, even thousands of years. It was like entering a new world, a world completely untouched by man and unlike anywhere else I had ever been before.
We spent the night at a campsite around 8,500 feet in elevation, and awoke this morning to the sounds of exotic birds. After a quick breakfast of campfire-smoked summer sausage, we ran down the trail and made it back to the truck in about two hours. It was an unforgettable experience!
One year ago today, Isaac was hiking along the Lenca River with Daniel, Micah, Michael, and Caleb, the wild and mighty river that claimed Isaac’s life. I thought this morning that this was the perfect way to remember him. It was something Isaac would have loved. I climbed this peak in memory of him.
P.S. Sorry the pictures are so small. The internet was really slow today, so I had to shrink them down.
What is it about the alpine that strikes such a spiritual chord within me? It is almost as if something is awakened, a deep insatiable longing for something... something so distant and indistinct and yet almost familiar, as if once known in the deep past.
