This hill is called Mumunzi on the 1972 era maps and has been solidly standing there, side by side with the now familiar Menzi ridge to the north west, just looking a lot more ominous and out of reach. Now with the advent of camping man in January 2024 I had to give it a go: starting by looking for paths on Google Maps satellite and hoping they had not grown over in the intervening year(s); as well as scouting at a distance for any possible tracks whilst on other hikes. Asking for advice and hoping its not an obligatory ‘yes’ but an actual path is an option in some other places.

First, a mandatory, hard won, health and safety lecture on TRACKS. 

Some tracks are from animals: cows are good; baboon the worst as they are strong enough to simply go ‘straight up / down’ with no zig zagging, but even they are better than nothing when it comes to pushing through the long grass. Best of course are the tracks left behind by the pine loggers – they will go practically anywhere to get their hands on a straight pine tree – however their tracks don’t last forever and only go as far as the last pine tree. SO, a new trip is always a case of mix and match and hoping for the best. When this breaks down because the hoped for, longed for, out of date satellite image path down no longer exists then bushwhacking, without a whacker, is your thing. IE pushing through the undergrowth of 1m long grass growing in tall, trip-able, tufts or through some other scrub like stuff on the side of a hill – it’s all just high enough to really get in your way and mask the stones and animal holes at ground level. And the prickly jobs going through your clothes – they receive a free whack from the walking pole though, making the path better for someone next time.

When it’s bad this is really mind numbing and body sapping and a kilometre could take an hour – and naturally its rather warm – and the sun is cooking your head off – and the water is running out – and you wish you hadn’t started etc etc. On this trip I crawled half into an eroded ‘cave’ in a dried up stream to scavenge a four litre refill. (I was coming off Mumunzi with no water re-fill since the day before.) It should not have been at all dry but the rainy season has been ‘gone’ for a month. There was a small freshwater crab but nothing else scary! (The lack of rain for so long means the non-irrigated crops will have failed in the country – scary for 3 – 4 million people.)

Oh, and crossing even the smallest stream can be an impossibility in some places because the water enables umpteen different and dense plants, shrubs and trees to grow all together, at the same time, in the same place, for a couple of metres either side, or much more if it’s flat and marshy in the bottom of a valley. In these cases the baboons / animals get their drinks in by going under the wretched bush and you are stuck, looking for reverse gear, facing a bothersome retreat back up the hill with hope fading and pinpricks of worry edging out the feel-good day you thought you were having.

I haven’t even mentioned the gradient; of course it all looks do-able at home; not steep at all on the satellite image, but when you get there – different story – either exhausting or scarily steep!

Summary: finding a good path is a joyous thing; even walking two sides of a triangle is OK because; bushwhacking can really mess up your day. Lesson ends, but don’t forget it. Bloody out-of-date satellite images and those who believe them!!!

Back to the tale:

I had planned a very doable 15km walk-in and camp so I would be fresh for the new terrain the next day, however after a two hour rest to cook and eat, and with about three hours of day-light left I had to give it a go and set off for Mumunzi, or as far up as I could get.

Terrific pictures on the way up as the sun was lowering itself in the sky just pushed me on and on.

More or less of a path heading up through the long tufted stuff.

The sun was going down, I was still going up, the rounded ridge becoming a bit narrower – potential spur off the south side, then just before the top I hit the steep, large boulders mixed with tall grass section which continued on top, narrow, though levelling out.

By this time I had long, long passed any remotely possible camping areas. I did not fancy trying to make my way down hill through the giant boulder and grass set up, with tired legs and a rucksack. The light was deceasing as the sun was now behind the Kwaraguza 2200m plateau and consequently the ‘autonomic adventure mode,’ ie adrenalin, kicked in keeping me in 4WD and moving ever onwards. I could not see what was on the south side of the ridge but trees were disappearing downwards through the boulders. I had thoughts of wrapping myself in the tent for the night.

Round the corner the terrain eased removing the boulders but leaving the very long grass as some kind of an improvement for me – and at least it was level-ish. Pushing on looking for any sort of path I went closer to the trees and undergrowth to find that they were good at keeping out the tufted grass! I was able to work a space wide enough and high enough to squeeze the tent into – tying the guys to various branches and logs.

Of course the next day I found quite a few potential campsites on along the ridge but this one was mine.

The walk along the ridge was so exciting because of the new perspectives and views. I could now see the whole of the Menzi ridge from the south side.

The Mount Nyangani escarpment was ahead of me as well as the Gairezi river to my left and much higher up the Gairezi falls in the far distance, and Little Nyangani, and the plains below.

I pushed onwards with darts from side to side to check the views, with the vain hope of an unknown, well nigh impossible path down the western end.

Westen end Mumunzi from below. I came down where the brighter sunlight is to the right of the ridge. Rainforest behind.

The loggers had of course been around on Mumunzi and left me a steep path, down a steep spur.

I didn’t want to follow it all the way to the vehicle track in the distance and cut off west according to the way I had marked from the satellite image on Google. This was the beginning of a cruel couple of hours, cross country, cross stream, up hill, low water, no path, hump through the sango / bush. See lecture at top for the general idea.

Eventually I gave up and used the vehicle track to climb the hill, then overshot my exit and had to walk back through a different, easier, kind of long grass at the top of the hill. There was a strange wall, wide enough to walk on in places, about a meter wide and high, for quite a distance, mainly overgrown now. I was heading right back at Mumunzi – toward the impossible end of the ridge.

Previously, and on the way in on the Menzi ridge, I had spied a freshly made route / flattened grass that looked like it would take me down to the Chirwe river at the bottom and, I trusted, a doable path along the river valley back towards the Gairezi.

In trying to work out what made the flattened grass I’m guessing it was cows being herded along but I haven’t seen the like before – as it they were towing a barrel on their way, flattening the grass. (This was certainly true half way along the valley floor as some small scale logging had been recently taking place and presumably some of it had already been carried out by mombe / cow.)

I stopped for my enforced two hour cook-up under a friendly pine tree (too ‘branchy’ to be useful for the loggers) then made it to a new camp site on some square meters of grass by the stream.

Didn’t see the ant hole in the ground till it was too late so swapped my entrance side to the balcony overlooking the water.

Next day was a long slog out back up the Menzi ridge, with an hour under a pine tree sheltering in / under my poncho. No lightning so I judged it was OK!

BTW there are / were some other visitors in the area – ashes still warm: