Climbers Conquer Pico Duarte
Pico Duarte, the highest point in the Dominican
Republic, beckoned with promises of adventure. The original instigators of the
trip dropped out at the last minute, leaving four eager beavers crazy enough to
commit to the expedition. The co-conspirators assumed alternative identities to
protect their reputations as respectable citizens: La Doña (me), Mr.
Congeniality (Fred), Euell Gibbons (Delbert McCluskey, an
experienced AID officer), and Dirk Pathfinder (Adam Namm, a first-tour consular
officer).
From Voluntary Nomads, Part Six: Dominican Republic Dramas, Chapter 26:
Climb of a Lifetime
The explorers prepared for a long weekend of
camping and strenuous hiking. In spite of Dirk Pathfinder's sturdy self-image
as the epitome of readiness, he forgot his toothbrush and had to borrow one
from La Doña before leaving town. After triple-checking their checklists, the
intrepid bunch set off for the mountainous world of pine trees and the climb of
their lives.
The first leg of their journey took them to
Jarabacoa for one night in the candlelit Hotel La Montaña. If it hadn't been so
dark, they might have set up bowling pins in the unusually long hallway, but
they retired for the night instead. Dirk and Euell went to bed in peace, but La
Doña and Mr. Congeniality weren't as lucky.
La Doña, toothbrush (her own) in hand, entered the
bathroom and lit a candle on the shelf above the sink. What she saw in the
shadowy mirror reflection sent her rushing back to the bedroom, waving her
toothbrush wildly above her head.
"Aaack!" she screamed at Mr.
Congeniality.
Following the gist of La Doña's posturing, Mr. C.
snuck a peek inside the bathroom door where he discovered a family of
chartreuse tree frogs secured by their orange suction cup toes to the slick
yellow tile of the wall. La Doña peered around his shoulder as he pulled the
shower curtain to form a barrier between the frog zone and the area of human
occupation.
"That's okay, I really didn't plan to shower
anyway." La Doña kept an eye on the shower curtain as she hurried to take
care of her most urgent bathroom needs.
As soon as Mr. Congeniality and La Doña cuddled into
a comfortable spoon position, electric service resumed. Pupil-constricting
light glared down from the single bulb hanging from the high ceiling. The frog
family's quack-like croaks echoed in protest.
Before Mr. C. could find the light switch, La Doña
spotted a large black something in the nearest corner of the ceiling.
"Hey," she exclaimed. "What's
that?"
Mr. C. toddled across the saggy mattress for a
closer look. "It's just a bat."
"Just? I can't sleep with that hanging over
my head."
Mr. C. jumped down and surveyed the room for
potential bat-extraction tools. He grabbed his running shoe and threw it at the
bat. He picked up the other shoe and tried again. Pow, the bat fell to the
floor and scuttled under the bed.
"Aack!" La Doña pulled knees to chest and
scrunched up against the headboard.
Mr. C. jabbed at the bat with his shoe. The bat
hissed and retreated further.
"Can't you get that out of here?" A hint
of hysteria shrilled in La Doña's squeak.
Valiant Mr. C. thrust shoe into darkness again.
This time the bat latched on. With a single mighty swing, Mr. C. launched both
shoe and clinging bat out the open window and into the starry night. The bat
flew away and the shoe hit the dirt two stories below.
La Doña and Mr. Congeniality laughed themselves to
sleep with the quacks of tree frogs croaking in the background. They rested
well in their blissful state of ignorance, completely unaware of the perils
that lurked on the rugged trail to Pico Duarte. ###
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