Once we massaged the rigor mortis out of our bodies a happy, almost delirious mood spent over the camp. We had conquered the highest peak in Sarawak. We were heading home, and the rest of the journey was largely downhill.
We set out early singing and chatting our way through a gorgeous valley abundant with enormous Agatis trees. Steep downhill paths overlooked sheer cliff edges on both sides as we dropped down the ridge. To conserve energy we let gravity race us down the hill. The screams of agony from our toes, heels and shoulders were ignored in favor dramatically increased downhill speed and the rest afforded to our over-worked leg muscles.
The flowing sound of the Long Balaban River was urged us as onwards and we moved closer to our final basha camp. Despite another solid seven hour day, we reached the idyllic river side camp in fine spirits.
Knowing that this would be our last night in basha’s for some time (maybe for ever), we made them perfect and soon had a roaring balaban fire going too.
