Ever since we went to Millbank and had that delicious Maroon food consisting of turned cornmeal and janga run dung, some of us Fun and Thrill members have been dying to repeat the process ...no the food.
So, when our environmentalist Kim who does a lot of work in the Rio Grande valley suggested we do a hike along the Cuna Cuna trail and end up at a maroon village where we would again be treated to that super appetizing gourmet delight, I have been raring to go.......
The Cuna Cuna trail is an over five hundred year old trail that the maroons established on a ridge between the Blue Mountain and John Crow mountain ranges (the Blue Mountains are to the west and John Crow to the east) first, to escape from the British who wanted to dominate them and later to transport runaway slaves that they captured for a bounty, between the parishes of Portland and St. Thomas .
This was then an arduous trail which the British soldiers with all their training could not maneuver for not only was it heavily forested but also there are lots of caves and other sections where the Maroons could hide out and ambush them.
Also, it has an abundance of springs with fresh life giving water which allowed them to hide out for long periods at a time.
In them old days when there were no cell phones, the Maroons had their own means of communication, the abeng. This is an instrument made from cow horn and it can send various predetermined signals depending on how they blow it.
The sound of the abeng could easily carry through the silent, ominous hills from one parish to the other. They also used drums to send signals for religious ceremonies. Drums are made form goats' skins....... the one made from the female goat is called a Bange and has a high sound . The one from the ram skin is the Cass and has a deeper sound.
These tools are still being used by the maroons who live in villages between Hayfield in St. Thomas to those at the headquarters at Moore Town, otherwise called Maroon Town but for ceremonial purposes, not guerrilla warfare.
It is significant that the opportunity that we got to hike the 5 mile long trail through the spectacular, undulating mountain side was on the eve of the annual National Heroes day. Of course, Nanny, the maroon leader who led her people to victory, is our only female National hero, though she is somewhat of a mythical figure as she was alleged to have the power to catch bullets being fired by the British in her bottom and fire them back at the enemy.
Just before 7 am on Sunday 17th October, 26 of us headed out in 6 vehicles and drove to Hayfield, a village of around 200 person just above Bath in St. Thomas. Like most country roads, it was narrow and in poor condition but since we had commuted in SUV's is was not difficult.
On the way up into the district, Howie, with whom I was travelling, saw a little boy between 6 and 8 years old, with a large lighted spliff in his hand. Horrified he drew up beside him told him to hand it over, but he refused and got ready to run away. As we went further up the hill we saw a man a and reported to him that a young boy was coming up smoking a big spliff. The man just laughed so we were shocked thinking it may have been a tradition in the area , but thank heavens when we joined up with our guide "Shaggy" and related the incident to him, he said he had never seen kids smoking ganja in the area so it was not a tradition.
I had made the arrangements for the trip with Ms. Wilkes who Kim and connected me with and it turned out that she has been the Chief of the Bownden Pen Maroons for some twenty years. How the villages work is that each one has its own maroon Chief and they all sit on the council at Moore town under the chairmanship of the overall Chief who is elected by the democratic process. The Maroons look after their own internal affairs although things like infrastructural work is done by the Government of Jamaica. However they deal with their crime problem except murder and criminal activities in their villages are far below the Jamaican average.
Although the cost of the journey was quite expensive, $500 to use the trail and $300 each for the guide, when we saw how well kept the trail was it was worth the money. This is an extremely treacherous area with lots of break aways but they have put is cement bridges and bamboo railings all along the way. And the path is not at all overgrown despite the high level of rainfall in the area. Fact is it is the best kept trail I have ever seen in any part of Jamaica, even having two nice rest stops with bathroom facilities and benches so that hikers can rest their weary bodies for a while.
Anyway the role of the guide was greatly exaggerated as I was told he would give us all the historical information as we went along but it turned out that Shaggy knew very little more about Maroon history than we did! He was pleasant anyway and it turns out that he is the father of "Papcaan" that rising DJ who along with Vybes Kartel made the popular and catchy tune "Mi Clarks". Shaggy proudly told us how his son got 80 pairs of Clarks shoes from the company whose sales in the Caribbean has risen over 300%, since the song became a hit! Anyway he seems to be doing well otherwise as he is now on a tour of Europe.
Happy for him.
Anyway back to the trail . The area is absolutely beautiful...... lush, green and picturesque. The view from all angles is really awesome and the climate cool and pleasant. Shaggy did point out a few plants like the "Catchman Fig". This is a parasite but it grows into a huge tree. The one he pointed out had two huge trunks with a passage between and we walked though it on the trail. We were also introduced to the cabbage Wood tree which he said is very tough and they use in construction. A fruit I had never heard about is the Mammee which is brown and round. They say it tastes like a mango and Desiree says they have it in Guyana.
Of course, the trail has a wide variety of ferns including the Giant Tree Fern and he did name several varieties for us. Also, brightly coloured lillies popped up just about everywhere and the profusion of palms was ever so pleasant. A funny moment was when one of the hikers asked him which road was close by as she had heard a car blowing its horn. Shaggy informed her that it was a bird called the Shine Eye!
He also pointed out to us the feeding areas of the Blue dove which seems to scratch out large areas on the ground as it searches for insects. Although he promised that we would find some edible fruit to pick us up, we were not lucky enough to see and fit guavas or jack fruit that were accessible. Quite frankly in all my days of hiking I have never seen deeper ravines so I can't figure how they can get any of the fruits growing on the edges of the trail anyway.
After about three hours, we got to the cottages operated by the Bowden Pen Maroons and were met by the chief Mrs. Wilkes. Although the had told me on the telephone that we might not be able to get any janga for when it rains they are washed away, a super disappointment was that she forgot to do the turned cornmeal, the lame excuse being that since they usually eat that with the janga, it had slipped her. The food was great anyway especially the wild boar. I don't know how non pork eaters survive. Wow!
After lunch some of the macho people went to the Rio Grande River for a swim, but although I was dying for a bath to cool down, after a full belly, I wasn't going anywhere but back to the vehicle.
The walk to Bowden Pen had quite an effect on some of the participants who are not accustomed to long arduous hours of exercise. Among them, was my neighbour Verleta.
By the way, Betty had turned back from we started the trail and Charles had gone back to the car with her then caught up with us when we got to the cottage. Well would you believe he was able to find a taxi in the middle of no where!!! For you have to understand that the road just below Milbank had broken away about two years before so they have only one or two cars in the Comfort Castle/Milbank area and passengers have to walk pass the breakaway and get other cars on the other side to get to Port Antonio.
Well somehow Charles found one of the cars and invited person s to ride back. Within minutes the deportee had eight former hikers including Verleta who really had a challenge coming down and Grace who had lost her shoes and had determinedly continued hiking in her socks from way up the hill. After they got to Port Antonio they took a minibus to St. Thomas and linked back up with us at the Bath turn off just after Port Morant.
The rest of us walked back up the Cuna Cuna trail and it was really an easy hike for the highest point was just around 2,500 feet above sea level, just over a third the height of the Blue Mountain peak and we got back to Kingston just after 8pm after an arduous but pleasant day.
Since we had nothing planned for the National Heroes Day holiday next day, Damit had asked me what I was doing and I had told him I was going to take a short ride and see how far up Mountain Spring road I could go up . Would you believe that he called me at 5.30 am! Anyway we linked up at about 6.30 am by Burger king at Barbican road and were riding slowly up the hill.
When we almost got to our regular meeting point at Widcome, we saw a number of riders and I asked Damit who they were as I couldn't believe they were Fun and Thrills riders as we had no arrangement to ride on Monday. Well it truned out to be Orrrel, Michael, Maurice and Howie . It was almost an absolutely impossible coincidence! They the are A class riders and they had decided among themselves to also ride up Mountain Spring the very same route and time we had!
After we all had a good laugh at the turn of events, they rode off leaving Damit and I behind. My granny gear was giving problems however and just as I passed over the fording my chain fell off.
Anyway, determinedly I got back on and was doing ok until we passed where the Rasta man sells the fruits and two women walkers took over the good side of the road, forcing me into the sand. I nearly fell and had to push over the ridge until I got to the flat area where I again mounted.
By then Damit had abandoned me and I did ok until I got to the next steep section . That's when I gave again up but having passed where I had given up on my first try, I did not all at all feel badly.
However it is only when you are dead tired that you realise how heavy the damn bicycle is, for pushing it up to wailing wall was a super challenge. After resting there a while I again mounted to try out the real steep part of the the hill but by bicycle kept doing the wheelie as the front wheel kept lifting up. Again I dismounted and pushed with great effort over the super steep section.
The only thing that kept me going was the fact that we had ordered breakfast from Howie and he had kindly been voluntered by us to find us something to eat! After the super steep section I again mounted and almost reached Peter Phillips' back gate then again gave up again, being totally out of breath. Just then, my phone rang and it was Damit telling me not to go home as they were coming to rescue me. To make him feel bad for abandoning me, I told him I was already at home so not to bother and I kept on punishing up the hill. Anyway as I broke the corner I saw Maurice and Howie walking down to rescue, me trailed by Michael, Damit and Orrel. Maurice and Howie took turns pushing the extra heavy bicycle up to Howie's home so I could finish the journey with a little dignity (not puffing and blowing like an overworked train).
We were served delicious brewed coffee and breakfast followed.
What had started out as a mere leisurely ride which I had planned to abort the minute it became hard, turned out to be a tiring but a wonderful start to the holiday morning.
The camaraderie and just sitting on top of the hill looking down on the beautiful, peaceful city, invigorated me to the point that I was able to sit down and do this long boring blog without even stopping to think for a minute. I guess it is obvious that I didn't think!
