Tofol to Okat

      I woke up to my second alarm at six-thirty. I can wake up early just fine, but on Sunday my body likes the half rather than the whole for some reason. I rushed to get things done: shower, pack some things, and wolf down a large bowl of instant oatmeal. The only healthy thing about that meal was the handful of dried blueberries and agave nectar. The pastor and I left, picked up Pa Cooper at the end of the road, and headed to Tofol.

      Pa Cooper and I were dropped off next to Pa Robin's house down a gravel road. The first interesting thing of the day was the series of roots from surrounding trees that made up the steps down the steep bank to his house. As far as the average American goes, house is certainly an overstatement. As far as a Kosraen is concerned, it's nothing out of the ordinary. After walking across a makeshift bridge over a small creek is the house. His house is a cluster of open, tin-covered structures (four). On the right and back, his sons, Bob and Joshua (pronounced “So-swa”), sleep under one on an elevated piece of plywood inside a bug net. Veer to the right, him and his wife sleep under a larger house with the sides covered up to waist height. Half of that is also where the dining table is. About two feet from there, towards the creek, is a post with a hood. This post has the electricity meter, one outlet, and a phone jack. Left of the bedroom is another building with cord strung from side to side for hanging clothes out of the rain. Directly across from that is the cook house, where the dishes and stove – from bottom to top: cinder blocks, tin, ash/wood, cinder blocks, a couple rebar, and the pot – reside. I can't forget the hose next to the river, where they wash their dishes and also have a rain catch.

“Kom kang?” (You'll have?)

“Sure.” (I still haven't figured “sure” in Kosraen).

“Kom mongo rice na won boil.” (You'll eat nice and boiled chicken).

      I enjoyed that with some kimchi sauce and soysauce. Once I finished my meal we headed down the road. We stopped not too far away so that Pa Robin could climb and grab some oranges from a cousin's tree. Quickly the road went from used road, to overgrown-used road, to unused road, and finally ended in the bushes. One thing that is evident everywhere on the island is this blanket of leafy vines. They seem only to grow where there is an elevation change, which is more than half the island. Just like everything else they are vivid green, but what really defines them are the large leaves. They are shaped like a spade and as big across as a basketball.

      Don't get your picture all wrong, though, these vines don't grow by themselves on the ground. They grow on top of the shrubs, grass, banana, breadfruit, and coconut trees. They grow up the power lines and cascade down from the big trees along the mountains. It's kind of amazing to look at. Once you get inside the trees (or jungle; I'm not quite sure what you'd call it) and into the untamed mountains, though, it's quite different.

      Firstly, the vines change. They aren't the leafy ones anymore, but the vines without leaves that grow up the trees and across the ground. The younger ones will trip you every ten feet if you're not vigilant, and the bigger ones are coming down from the trees as creepers. Remember the vines that Tarzan swung on? Yeah, I did that (it wasn't from tree to tree, but I'll get there). They aren't everywhere; in fact, some of them are firmly planted in the ground.

      The banana and coconut trees disappear because those are cultivated. Breadfruit trees are here and there. Unfamiliar trees appear that bear fruit which only the birds eat: a large-looking blueberry and an oval-shaped neon orange fruit. Also, a tennis ball sized fruit that evidently used to be mashed up and used for glue. At one point along one of the rivers I also discovered trees bearing nuts. These trees grow perfectly straight, termaphilia (a certainly incorrectly spelled scientific name that Pa Cooper told me), showing no branches until the top of the canopy. Their bark is completely smooth and the roots leave the trunk like walls, the biggest I passed having walls as tall as me. As far as I can tell, these get to be some of the biggest trees on the island. I also learned that they used to be used for the best of canoes. The biggest tree is the banyen, which has multiple, smaller trunks that come together at a main trunk high in the air – and if you have ever read Robinson Crusoe, you may recognize the tree. You can walk through these trunks, and they cover a very large area. These two trees are the most incredible to look upon.

      Once we ascended our first small ridge we took a short break to enjoy our first round of Kosraen-Japanese oranges (a tangerine trunk is grafted to a Kosraen sapling). The peel of the Kosraen orange is very strong, so we used the machete to cut the peel into quarters and go from there. This ridge was coming from the mountain that we headed up next. Right after stopping we saw signs of many wild pigs, but we never ended up running into any. When we finally made it up this mountain we took our second break (I'd guess the elevation at 1000-1500 ft). I forgot to mention that it was quite wet and rainy in the mountains, so there was just enough danger of slipping down the side. Anyway, this mountain, like some of the others, finishes in a point. We sat on this point, had our second round, and if it wasn't for the overgrowth we would have had a great view of Lelu harbor. About an hour had elapsed since beginning.

      We headed down the other side and this turned into a long ridge, where both sides went down at a very unsavory angle. Understand that there is no barren mountain here, all being covered with trees and vines. So, sure, I'd have something to catch myself, but don't forget that it was very wet and slick. More than likely I would have slid down on a combination of my feet and behind until a vine caught me. Many of the smaller trees are also deceiving in that they rot where they are standing – something unexpected happened three times along the way due to these. Not to mention all the roots that show themselves and are slick as well. It was even better when the ridge turned while at the same time descending, pointing the trail (and a probable fall) directly down that large, muddy slippin' slide. Thankfully, I chose the right trees/branches for this (sometimes) three-foot wide ridge to hold on to.

      Once down from this ridge we were walking along a mountainside for a time, and Bob ended up catching a pigeon chick. Over the next hill we had our halfway stop at a small stream. By now we had already walked through some streams and small swampy areas, so my shoes were wet through and through. Since my shins were also muddy from various vines and mud splashes, I casually walked right into the stream, and washed my legs off. Even though everything was damp and cold, I was far from the cold part. Refreshing. We had our final round of oranges and to add to our picnic of sorts, Bob pulled out a loaf of fresh bread from his bag with some butter. Hmm, carbs.

      Now full, we continued our journey, walking along and over other smaller hills. Eventually, it flattened out and we forded (I believe) the same river multiple times, along with various tributaries. Many parts of the riverbed, and whole tributaries, were a squishy, mossy sort of soil, like the whole stream was one big mossy plant. Whether due to the recent raining, or them normally doing this, walking through these small streams' “moss” brought forth orange-ish, muddy water.

      As we progressed along the river, a trail became more developed, and around eleven-thirty we found ourselves at Okat, at the left shoulder of the Sleeping Lady. The river was calm here, no rapids, so perfect for us to rest and wash off our sweat. I took off my bag and went all in. I tried my best to rid my shirt of sweat as well. That was all very nice, however we weren't done yet.

      What we did was hike through the mountains, from Tofol to Tafunsak. Okat is far from the SDA, though, and Okat itself is far from the paved road. We came out on a well-used gravel road, and walked two or three miles to the paved road. This is about the time where I started realizing the condition of my ultra-soggy (or pruned, whichever you prefer) feet, and so did the nerves in them. Once to the paved road we walked three miles to the SDA.

      Arriving there, around one-thirty, I finally took my shoes off and saw that my feet had turned into perfect raisins. I've never had my feet so pruned before, and for the next hour it hurt to walk. All my toes were very sensitive and since then both my middle toe nails have continued towards a darker existence – they will fall off soon. My shoulders were sore for a day, my left heel has scabs all over it, my wristwatch is now a pocket watch, and I proved that you can get a sunburn on a cloudy day (walking from Okat to SDA).

      Was it worth it? No doubt about it. It was all so new. So new, in fact, that I feel I missed parts because my mind was overloaded with the natural, untouched beauty of it all. Next time – we have already planned it – I will carry less, and go with my gut feeling to bring my slippers (flip-flops) for after hiking. I plan to summit as many mountains as I can before I go. This coming Sunday (4/22), Pa Cooper and I have a Plan A and B. If it doesn't rain, Plan A will be in effect, and we will go see the Mutunte Waterfalls. If it rains, Plan B will be in effect, and we will either snorkel or walk along the mangroves (depending on the level of the tide) to the bridge at the airport.

      I just reached my seventh-month marker, and I have a bit over a month left. I'm kicking it into top gear. Nga lungse na paye Kosrae. Fara, kuht som.