1st of July, 2008 | “Well, the coming two hours we go straight up.” The travel guide looks greedy at the participants, turns around and sets course to 500 meters above sea level with a brisk walk. More than that this adventure is not supposed to be.
Sleeping in the open air. In three days from one village to another, right through nature. The ‘wine hills’ and forests across the river Rhine, near Wiesbaden, Germany, are a magnificent area the travel booklet promised.
The camera, standard zoom lens and grip with two loaded batteries, hangs around the neck. In and attached to the backpack – robustly packed – are an additional ‘telegun’, extra memory cards, AA batteries, an external flash light and a tripod for landscape shots.
I complemented this with three extra T-shirts, socks, underwear, a sweater, rain-protection clothes, two meals ready to eat at 500 grams each, three kilos of water, pans and cutlery, hard kacks, lunch, a plastic ground cloth, a sleeping bag AND a bottle of whisky to get through the nights at the camp fire.
Halfway through the problems start. Breathing and puffing heavily I slowly put one foot in front of the other, sometimes I shoot a picture of my team mates. I am looking forward to the top of this bastard and hope for splendid views over the land. The eyes of fellow walker André don’t leave his shoe laces. ‘Are you alright?’ I ask somewhat concerned. A heavy sigh. ‘I’ve got new shoes, but I did put them on last week.’
Putting them on is somewhat different from walking them into shape. Fortunately, there is nothing wrong with my shoes, but the weight of my backpack worries me. It seems heavier than during the test run at sea level. My unhappiness is firstly aimed at the tripod. Mounted on the side – the last remaining spot to attach something – it irritates my elbow time after time.
The chat with the salesman was limited to ‘carbon fibre, light, and ultra strong, ideal for travelling’. After three hours of negotiating the terrain, I ask myself if this composite material could withstand a fall from 500 meters high, or if it is that light it can float in the river Rhine. I already picture the headline on the cover of the magazine I work for: ‘World scoop: tripod mega crash test’. But I can’t remember the phone number of a friend who can fish the tripod out of the river further downstream.
With my journalistic ambitions in the freezer, I reach the spot to pass the night in overheated condition. It’s a field equally bumpy as the blistery feet of co-knuckle-bone André. My hands try to reach my meal – stowed in the backpack – through the telezoom lens, AA batteries, additional memory cards and external flashlight. Eating the meal will make my luggage half a kilo lighter. At the camp fire I share the bottle of spirits richly with my team mates, but I don’t forget myself. Every gram counts. The superb flash light – with heavy AA batteries – and telezoomer stay inside the bag.
In the early morning I take the first steps of the next kilometre through hilly terrain, with courage – not in high spirits. The devil is out of the bottle as a monastery looms up. Monks have left it a long time a go, but one of the employees is an angel. I give her money and my address. She offers me an understanding smile in return and promises to ship the tripod, the external flash light, the additional AA batteries and the telezoom lens well packed tomorrow to my home by courier.
After a robust monastery beer and cream covered apple pie the angel and me say goodbye. The pack on the back, the camera around the neck. When I make it to my team – obviously waiting for some time now – the guide says: ‘Well, the coming two hours we go straight up’. I give him a greedy look.
© 2008 Marcel Burger, published on the 3rd of June, 2008, in Dutch at www.digifotopro.nl
