Stairway To Heaven

I am completely out of my league here the Stairway To Heaven. I realise this much too late though and have no choice but to plough on. One foot in front of the other, one step at a time.

An email comes around at work to join a new adventure club. It’s part of a work/life balance and healthy choice initiative. “I’m adventurous” I think to myself, “I might give this a try”. So I sign up, excited about trying something new, meeting some colleagues that I don’t work with every day and perhaps getting a bit fitter along the way.

Another week or so and the first email arrives about the first activity – a hike. Beginner to intermediate level, reasonable level of fitness required, the usual safety disclaimers. All I need is a pair of hiking boots with ankle support, 3L of water and some snacks. There is even a plan to go to a local Maliki’s for dinner afterwards. This sounds fantastic.

Work is crazy busy as usual. I have given both a tax governance board and a board of directors (MELT) presentation in the past two weeks and aside from the preparation involved in them, there are now lists of actions from them both as long as my arm. There is a carpool spreadsheet set up and a WhatsApp group somewhere in this time, I manage to sign up to the carpooling and I think I catch most of the WhatsApp messages.

Wednesday night after putting the boys to bed I race over to Diana’s to borrow some hiking boots. They fit perfectly. “Wear two pairs of socks” she advises.

On Thursday afternoon I meet the new friends I am car pooling with and make a trip to Waitrose for water and snacks – some chocolate dates and muesli bars. Thursday night I pack my pack back and set my alarm for 1:30am, feeling a little apprehensive. I’m not entirely sure what to expect tomorrow and all the last minute questions about shoes vs boots on the WhatsApp group have made me a bit nervous.

Calming myself with vague assurances like “it’ll be fine” and “ you only live once”, I double check my alarm and turn my light out about 9pm to get a few hours in before I need to be awake again. With work and other things swirling through my mind I’m still awake at 11pm but must fall asleep sometime after that as the alarm wakes me with a start. Not wanting to fall back to sleep and miss my lift I dress quickly and call a taxi, messaging Ahmed to let him know I’m on my way.

Ahmed is ready and waiting and I’m relieved. It’s 2:15am and now that I’m up and we are on our way I relax a little and we chat on the way to the 3am meeting point for the group. We even arrive a few minutes early.

After an hour at the ENOC petrol station meeting point, waiting for the group to gather I’m keen to get going. The drive up to the start of the hike at the Wadi Ghalilah Trail is comfortable and I ease into the ride. Once we reach the trail car park everyone is eager to get going. There is a bit more organization required before that happens, it’s a big group, there are 33 of us altogether today. Then we realise there is another drive – we need to organize into the 4WDs for the final leg to the actual start of the hike – two trips are required to get the group altogether at the final starting point.

By now it is getting light. We’re all grouped together and we finally take off for our hike about 6:40am.

There had been mention of villages along the way. The first one we pass is at the entrance to the hike, where the road (albeit rocky) ends. Little more than a few stone huts and some goat enclosures, I’m not able to articulate exactly what I might have expected but I don’t think it was this. I recall someone back at the ENOC stop saying they would prefer to buy something for lunch at one of the villages along the way – this seems unlikely.

And then we walk. At first it seems that we enter along a rocky track on what could be (in different terrain) the bottom of a very dry and rocky river. We have cliffs on either side of us and enter what feels like the bottom of a canyon. There are rocks everywhere – from giant grey boulders to sharp, jaggered rocks to bits of sharp, pointed shale. This continues on for half an hour or so, getting steeper as we rise up along the right hand side of one of the inward facing cliffs. Along the cliff the rock turns to shades of orange, ochre, honey and tan.

We take a short break. Already I’m breathing deeply and take sips of water, pacing myself. We’re already high enough that I can see back over the grey valley where we have come from and can guess approximately where the cars are parked, without being able to actually see them (hidden behind yet more rocks).

We continue on. There is a bit of a decline and the group trickles downwards for a bit, the path flattening out. This isn’t too bad, I think to myself. There are conversations starting up, people getting to know each other as 33 pairs of feet pass over the ground. Crunch, crunch, crunch. Then the terrain begins to incline again, the conversations wane with the pace, until the next rest stop.

This time we’re stopped on a grassy patch where you might camp overnight, out in the open and under the stars. Right now, however, we pull out water and snacks to keep ourselves going. There is a large boulder that serves as a screen for those of us who need the lavatory – this is a loo with a view.

I optimistically put some sunscreen on and have a muesli bar and a few more sips of water. I don’t want to have to repeat the open air form of relief too often today!

We begin again. It’s only 8am and the walking started not much more than an hour ago. From here the path start to incline at a more steady pace. The large boulders seem to fall off behind us and we’re walking on loose shards of cliff that seem to have crumbled down the side of the mountain. Up, up, up. There is more chatter but I find I’m concentrating on the ground. It’s mostly single file along here and I watch the ground and walk.

At about 8:30am we stop briefly again. This time there is a stone bench and we look along the cliff face where we are about to head and then up and up to where we are supposed to be headed. Exactly where this is I can’t quite make out. But it looks like a long way still. I’m slightly disheartened to hear that we’re only about 40% of the way up.

I don’t feel tired yet. On the contrary, I feel rather invigorated. It’s a cloudy, almost misty day. Not great for visibility but certainly better for hiking than in the heat of the sun. Technically today is the first day of spring but the weather is still cool and pleasant. This is not something to even contemplate in the summer months.

The next stretch along the side of the cliff face is relatively easy for you can ignore the sheer drop off beside you and the view out of the corner of your eye of the bottom of the cliff, far, far below. Still, the path is wider and flatter than we have been on all morning and we file along the ‘balcony walk’ as Olga, our guide, refers to it. We even stop for photos.

This comes out at an interesting overhang of a cave with a small pool. It’s a great place to take some photos and a number of cameras appear again. We pause for another rest after a short but sharp climb past the overhang. We are now about half way.

From here the path just gets steeper and somehow, even rockier. The incline turns to frequent steps, some fashioned from the shape of the ground and placement of stones, some fixed into place by haphazardly placed splashes of cement. How that all got here, goodness only knows.

When I pause along the path to catch my breath and look around, more frequently now, I am struck by my surroundings. We’re now quite high up the mountain and while the view is not what I might describe as picturesque, the scene has a rugged beauty to it, a harshness that reminds me how small and insignificant I really am.

It is astonishing to think of the little villages that remain here. The Stairway to Heaven and this track (the right fork) were the original paths between the tribes of the coast and the mountains. Not much more than tiny clusters of rocks fashioned into huts, these blend with the landscape and are almost impossible to see from below as they are either hidden from view or invisible against the surrounds. From above, however, they sit on the only flat patches of ground that you might find for miles. Yet smaller still patches of green cling to the landscape, surrounding the organic structures and the odd sound of a goat or donkey braying echos through the hills.

I’m feeling a bit of a rhythm now and am able to hold a few brief conversations. Steven works in a similar area to me and has two boys. He and his family returned to Ireland a few years ago only come back to Dubai a couple of months later.

Aarushi seems to be the newest having only joined a couple of weeks ago, and perhaps one of the youngest, not longer than a year or so out of university.

Ahmed, who I came with in the car, does forensic data analytics, something that sounds fascinating – like auditing on steroids.

Aga works in business development and Bilal is in tax. Cyrelle and Cecile are in tax (client accounting) and Olga (our guide) in clients & markets. What an incredible mix of people, background, culture and talent that we have here.

I would like to chat with everyone but my breath is short and I mostly catch snippets of other conversations. I am finding that I need to concentrate on the path and by the time I consider turning around without reaching the summit, it’s sort of too late.

I have ambitiously ploughed ahead. Starting off enthusiastically and falling to the back of the ‘first’ group. The ‘second’ group have made the decision to turn back. But by this time, they are far behind us and I guess that it’s not advisable for me to turn back on my own. I certainly don’t want to sit out here by myself on the mountainside waiting for everyone to reach the summit and return along the path. I make my legs keep going. One step at a time. Step, step, step.

And then, all of a sudden, up one more steep set of steps, I arrive. I am at the summit!

I drop my backpack and sit down. It starts to rain as I pull my hastily bought egg and cheese roll out of my bag. It’s slightly squashed and a bit soggy. I don’t care. My whole body is shaking. I can’t quite believe I’m here, can’t quite believe I made it and I pause, relishing every bite of my somewhat inadequate lunch. I try to take it all in.

As the last of our group reach the summit, fat drops of rain falls and I gaze out at the mist and wonder how on earth we will make it down if this settles in. I guess we will. What other choice is there?

After some food and a few minutes of reflection it is time for the cameras. The scenery, even in the rain and mist, is astonishing. We have climbed to the top of a giant mountain of rock. Almost – almost – all I can see surrounding us is rock. Looking out and down, the landscape is grey, mixed with sandstone pastels of orange, yellow and pinks of all shades.

Behind us though, on the summit is another flat(ish) area. There are patches of grassy green and two figures approach our group. ‘Salam’ they offer and invite us for tea. I woul love nothing more than to while away the afternoon over tea, learning about the life of these villagers and the 21 other people that I have reached the summit with. Alas, it’s already after midday and we need to begin our descent. A few more photos and another sip of water and I, somewhat reluctantly, heave my backpack on again and start down the steps over which I have only just triumphed.

Glad at first to be heading back downwards, I soon realize that, in many ways, down is just as demanding as up. On these steep, slippery paths I have to watch every step and my mind needs to concentrate. The group spreads out as some power ahead.

Behind me Bilal loses his footing. It only takes a second but he falls awkwardly and cuts his knee quite badly. He, and we, are lucky it’s not worse and we pause for a while to clean the wound and patch him up, all of us a bit shaken.

By now we are the last of the group descending. There are 6 of us and we are perhaps 20mins behind. We keep going. I can feel my body fatiguing and remind myself again to concentrate. A lapse right now could see me sliding over the edge. Olga and Siddarth are behind me chatting. Somehow they get onto the subject of falling. Whilst not particularly afraid of heights I ask them to change the subject. In my already rather exhausted state, my mind does not need to wander around in such thoughts!

We continue, down, down, down. Taking only short breaks for sips of water the sugary snacks now come out the keep us going. We share whatever we have left – some jelly sweets, rice crisps, muesli bars and chocolate covered dates. After a sugar hit I feel a little better.

Eventually the worst of it is over. We descend and round back along the ‘balcony walk’. From here it is not quite as bad. There are a few flatter stretches and the path is somewhat easier to see and navigate.

Just before 5pm we reach the little rocky village where we started and make our way back to where the cars are parked. There is still a bumpy 10min ride back to the Wadi Ghallilah carpark where we started out just under 12 hours ago.

It was planned to have a late lunch at the Mandhi restaurant. That plan was been abandoned quite a bit earlier. As we are rearranging rides for the journey back to Dubai for those of us who remain, our final headcount reveals one missing and just as we are frantically messaging to see if she has already left in one of the car pools, Cecile calls to say that she is at the lower village but can’t see any cars.

Horrified that we have managed to miss one of the group and yet relieved that we have discovered her (thank goodness she still had her phone charged and reception available) the cars are reorganized once again to pick her up for the return journey.

A couple of hours later, safely back in Dubai and showered, I lower my exhausted body into bed and reflect on today’s achievement as well as what I have learned in a surprisingly short period of time it’s amazing what you can achieve if you set your mind to it:

• do your own homework;
• walk in a group;
• count your group;
• 1200m elevation doesn’t sound like a lot – but it really is; and
• the real summit is home (Olga mentioned this numerous times but now it actually means something to me).

A week later, once I can face a set of stairs again without crying, this experience is still with me. I am incredibly grateful for having had this experience, for the organization that went into the day and for the expertise of Olga and the other guides, Faizan and Fahim, who looked after us throughout the day. Although at the time it was an intense physical and mental challenge, having come out the other end unscathed, I feel like it has left a lasting impression on me which is more spiritual than anything else. And I leaned during those 25,000 (give or take) steps, that I am stronger and more resilient than I thought.

Good To Know

The Stairway to Heaven climb in Ras Al Khaimah is for experienced hikers only. The right fork can be attempted by intermediate hikers with a very good fitness level. Be aware that the return journey is equally as difficult for many as the way up – turn back if you’re uncertain. This is difficult terrain, the rocks are slippery and there are steep drop offs – hiking boots with good ankle support is recommended. This isn’t a track for those with back knees or a fear of heights. Carry at least 3L of water and food for the day.

Better yet, arrange to join a tour with experienced hikers and gear arranged for you.

Would I Return?

No. Once bitten, twice shy.