THE DAY I DID NOT FIND NOAH'S ARK

(A TRUE STORY)

It seemed like a good idea at the time. Being stationed in Ethiopia on an advisory team as a young officer, my team chief and I began wondering if there could be any truth to the legend of Noah's Ark landing on Mount Kondudo, not that far away. We did not realize until much later that many countries had a legend about Noah's Ark landing on one of their mountains.

Mount Kondudo is a flat top mountain with an elevation of about 9,900 feet. The summit area is said to be the home of the last population of some ten feral horses, untamed horses that were once domesticated, in East Africa. Emperor Haile Selassie obtained his first mount from the Kondudo Pack some 107 years ago making it the oldest known feral horse population in Africa.

Since neither of us had any previous mountain climbing experience it became a case of the blind leading the blind as we made preparations for the ascent. I filled my canteen with water, put some camera equipment in my backpack and we began the day-long trek to find the Ark.

We did tell the Commander of the Ethiopian Battalion we were advising of our plans. He said that if were not back by a certain time he would send out a patrol to make sure we were OK. That was the last thing we would have wanted, and it was to bring a lot of unneeded pressure on us later in the day.

The first thing we realized as we got closer to the mountain was that it was much larger than first appeared. I thought at the time I was in excellent physical condition. Undeterred we started up the mountain. It was not long until a tribesman appeared before us with a machete in his hand. Although his machete certainly looked dangerous I found myself focusing more on the expensive watch he was wearing. I doubted he could tell time, and I could not help wonder how he came upon that watch. I'm not sure of how it all came about, but before we knew it he was our guide up the mountain. That seemed to be working OK until we got to an area where it was getting difficult to follow the trail. This seemed an opportune time for him to negotiate. We did not bring any money, and I doubted he needed another watch so he disappeared and we continued on our way. We later picked up another tribesman, much less daunting, who agreed to take us to the top. As we continued a rather steep ascent I was beginning to learn a few things about myself e.g. I was nowhere near the excellent physical condition I thought I was in. Being halfway up a mountain is not the best place to gain this insight.

I won't say that my team chief, Sam, and I were competitive, but neither of us were about to lag behind. The mountain continued to grow higher as we ascended, but at long last we did reach the top. I took a one to two second look to see if I could find any remnants of the Ark. I realized that my way to fame and fortune would have to take a different course. The flat top covered about one-half mile. I remember thinking it would be a great place to play football. I just would not want to be a wide receiver going out for a pass. I do recall collapsing on the ground and thinking there was no way I was going to use any energy in pulling out my telephoto lens etc. from my backpack. I did manage to get out the camera itself and took a couple of pictures before draining the last water in the canteen.

I would have been very happy to have stayed awhile to enjoy our successful ascent and the beautiful vistas. I could also have napped for a day or two, but I was reminded that a patrol would be sent out if we did not get back by 4 p.m. We began the descent. I soon found out that there were more lessons to be learned. The first was that you needed as much, if not more, water going down as you did going up. Over the next hours my lips began to seal tight and I found it very difficult to open them. We still had a long ways to go, and I was becoming concerned. We also were coming down a different route, which brought us by a very small village. They had a water well, which was inviting. However, we had been warned about drinking from such wells, and had in fact received shots for black water fever. I summed up the situation, which was not easy considering my deteriorating mental state, and decided that I best go for the water hoping for the best.

After thanking the tribesmen, who were undoubtedly shaking their heads, we continued down the mountain. We realized we had to pick up our pace if we were to spare ourselves major embarrassment by arriving back too late. It is amazing how much saving face can act as a catalyst, but we eventually descended and could see our destination. We crossed the finish line with less than five minutes to spare.

In Africa, at the time, there was an orange bottled drink called Fanta. It was at least twice the size of one of our large bottled drinks. As with most drinks it tasted better cold, but that was not to be at this time and place. I lost track of the number of large bottles of Fanta I drank. It was enough that I have never drunk Fanta again.

My search for the Ark was some forty years ago. Since then I have climbed other mountains, to include a few of Colorado highest 14ers, and as challenging as our local mountains are I reflect back on the lessons I first learned and still can not help wonder how our first guide came by that expensive Rolex-type watch.