The old blog has taken a snooze over the last few days. The plan was to eat eat eat and get my belly back. I eat one meal, and contract one of those horrible tummy bugs that I presume from the symptoms is most likely mild salmonella. I have plenty of time (in the bathroom) to contemplate such a ludicrous name for a vicious bacteria, because I love salmon.
Anyway, I’m now yet another 5kgs lighter and have enjoyed the privelege of watching Rob eat to his hearts content while I nibble on plain boiled rice and sip herb tea.
Onto the trip, starting from the point Rob left me at Map Rock Pass.
Well. It was an odd feeling watching Rob slowly make his way back towards civilization, an ever-diminishing pole-wielding figure gradually merging with the vastness of the mountains. That feeling lasted 2 1/2 minutes. the next was one of pure elation! Now don’t get me wrong, Rob is my best mate and we are effectively brothers from different mothers, but there’s something wonderful about realizing you are the only human in an enormous wilderness… a true wilderness. I had been a tiny bit apprehensive the day before wondering what might happen if I sprained my ankle, met a bear or ran out of flapjack. But not any more. In fact I now had enough flapjack for 2 people for 20 days! For just me! And bears schmers.
Ankles? Who needs ’em, and we’ve all seen Touching the Void.
So there I was, not even bothering to monitor Robs progressive disappearance but unpacking all the food for a good assessment of how long I could REALLY survive if Rob decided he couldn’t come back. I figured about 3 months, and then I’d have to reluctantly haul my skinny behind back to the world of noise and stink (the latter being very subjective!)
This is me having counted the flapjacks and positioning my sleeping bag diagonally across the entire tent interior…
Happy happy me.
The next few days I spend mapping and photographing things in the area, from 6am til 6pm wandering the mountains and forests in beautiful sunshine. Heaven.
Base camp sits right under this mountain below… 300metres of rock that goes straight up! (and so presumably can also come straight down.) But what a place. A pool of water sits under a rock 20 feet from the tent, so cooking is easy. The only disadvantage of such a camp site on a pass at 3700 metres is the wind that shakes and rattles the tent through the night. But throughout history humankind has sought out the advantages of a high perch for their camp over the wind issues because the views are stunning (ie good for spotting enemies) and the commute to work is likely an easy downhill start (my own theory!) 
And so for 4 days I commute down the hill and do my work, aswell as going to seek the odd sleek peak for a sneak peek (as a photo geek).
We call this tiny promontary The Diving Board, and nearly 1000 feet below is the tent. I could have got back to camp in 7 seconds.
The OTHER view from up here however, is THIS! Which is why we christened it Jagged Horizon…
The next day? It rains and then rains more. I partake of a wee shot of rum with breakfast, don the old poncho, (sounds like a character from a Robert Rodriguez movie… Don the Old Poncho) and plan to spend most of the day mapping in the forest and beneath the limited shelter of cliffs. Some of the cliffs reveal the presence of carnivores which is always exciting. I enter the rest of the caves and overhangs machete in hand, feeling machete-macho and naively believing that an infuriated 200kg bear will actually give a damn what his next meal is wielding.
"I'll grind his bones to make my bread!" he boomed as I ran for the beanstalk!
