By Juno Abena Turkson
Krobo-Odumase (Eastern Region) 04 July 2002 - From all walks of life they converged, in droves and legions they arrived, young and old, strong and weak almost clad in sports wear. Our mission: “To conquer Kloyo.”
Expectations were running high at the foot of the Krobo Mountain on Monday where different batches of holiday makers consisting of Keep Fit and Body Building Clubs, old school associations and other recognised bodies as well as individuals had gathered to partake in the ‘Kloyo Climb’ as part of the Republic Day celebration.
The climb was advertised to begin at exactly 8.00 in the morning. However, the actual climb began no sooner than 10 am. At that point, morale was so high that nothing could dull the anticipation that people felt, not eve the delay. People were waiting in long queues to have their blood pressure checked before the climb while others were waiting for a word from the organisers to begin. Others still were waiting for the promised T-shirt that never came.
T-shirts or not, those interested in the many advertised prizes going for the climb were getting registered while others who just wanted to take part for fun set off without the starter’s order.
The climb began smoothly enough but it was not long before the huffing and puffing began in earnest with vapour threatening to emanate from climbers. Some people took two hours to make it to the top. Many others were faster, but all along the steep and hilly climb were scattered people whose legs had given way right under them.
More than once, I was tempted to throw in the towel and beg for an end to the struggle but then I had come more than half way and the thought of giving up and missing out on some hidden fun was all it took for me to sing ‘Onward Christian Soldier.’ I was however spurred on by some members of the “Strong Bodies” club who, at the start of the climb, won a lot of admiration for their physique and beautiful T-shirts.
Their number was markedly reduced from when they arrived, compelling one guy to comment mockingly “You call yourself strong body, if you had been asked to carry the mountain on your arrival, all of us would have had to go home but when you were asked to just climb it, look at how you are suffering.” This drew laughs from the agonizing climbers and of course an intimidating look from the now deflated ‘strong bodies.’
Finally, we made it to the top of the mountain, where a huge cross had been mounted by the early missionaries. As an organisational lapse, there was no water to cool parched throats of the climbers but the personal relief of having made it was quite a respite.
The view from up there can be described in one word as breathtaking; it was so beautiful up there that patrons momentarily forgot their aches. From the point up there, one could see the Accra-Ho road and the vast expanse of the Krobo lands and beyond. One man, obviously taken in by the view said, “you can see the whole country from up there.”
The descent promised to be less work so after staying for a while to catch their breaths and take pictures while taking in the scene, patrons, like the proverbial ‘whatever goes up’ had to ‘come down’ had to descend. People slipped; others fell and at some points some had to go on all four limbs, clinging onto rocks for dear life. Many had to kiss the earth with their backsides. All in all, that was a small price to pay for the experience that we gained.
When we emerged from the last leg of our pilgrimage we were met with admiring glances from those who could not make it. A dance band as well as a spinning group, were playing at different points at the base of the mountain, and food vendors were ready to feed famished climbers.
The Kloyo climb was an interesting experience; one that I would not have missed for the world. But would I do it again? Well ask me that in about a month’s time. – Graphic Showbiz.
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