Day 11: Hiking to the Waterfall

Thought my legs might get a break after yesterday's chimp tracking. They did not. Day 11 was all hiking, and it pushed harder than anything else on the trip so far.

The Descent

The hike to the waterfall started manageable and got progressively steeper. Trails narrow and uneven, carved into the hillside in a way that kept you very focused on your footing. Going down is deceptive — your legs feel fine early and then you remember that everything going down has to come back up.

The terrain was dense and green in that particular way Nyungwe Forest has, where the canopy closes in and filters the light into something softer than daylight. I tried to appreciate it as my knees began voicing concerns about the angle of descent.

The Waterfall

When we reached it, worth every step. The water came down with real force, crashing into the pool below and sending mist across the rocks. The kind of natural feature that photographs can only partially convey. Spent about 30 minutes trying anyway. Different positions, different angles and exposures. There's something meditative about photographing moving water — it never repeats exactly, and yet the overall picture stays constant. Good reminder to slow down and just look at what's in front of you.

The Switchbacks Back Up

Then it was time to go back up.

The return hike was almost entirely uphill on a series of switchbacks that earned their reputation within the first five minutes. Steep and relentless and going on longer than the descent seemed to justify. Lungs burning. Legs shaking. Making sounds that may not have technically qualified as breathing.

Everyone was in the same condition. We leaned on each other, took breaks when we needed them, kept moving. There's a particular kind of camaraderie that develops when everyone is equally miserable. Nobody pretending it was fine. Nobody powering through stoically. We just climbed.

Mangabeys in the Forest

On the way back, we spotted mangabeys in the trees. Wild monkeys, completely unhabituated to human presence. Unlike the vervet monkeys on the university campus, these animals wanted nothing to do with us. They watched from a distance with visible wariness, moving through the canopy with a speed that made them hard to track.

Watching unhabituated primates is a different experience from habituated ones. No lingering. No sitting and documenting behaviors for half an hour. These animals were alert, reactive, ready to disappear at any moment. You have to be quiet, patient, and somewhat lucky. We got a few good looks before they moved back into the forest.

Completely spent by the end of it. Two consecutive days of serious hiking. But lying in bed that night replaying the waterfall and the mangabeys and those brutal switchbacks, I wouldn't have traded any of it. This is what Rwanda looks like when you get off the paved roads. It doesn't make it easy. But it gives you something real.