October 3: Attaviros
Today’s mission was to climb to the summit of Attaviros, the highest mountain on Rhodes. We were promised simultaneous views of the Mediterranean and Aegean (well, from the same spot; obviously a single human couldn’t see them both in the same moment). Chris was feeling recovered, and we were both ready to take on a challenging hike!
The hike today would have no shade and no water sources, so we had to carry all the fluids we’d need.
Manolis dropped us off at the trailhead just outside the town of Agios Isidoros. He left us with instructions to walk into town and find him at Petros’ taverna when we were done.
The total distance for this out-and-back hike was 16.6 km, or 10.3 miles. The Trekking Hellas materials said it could take 3.5 or 4 hours to climb to the summit, meaning a total time of at least 7 or 8 hours. Before we left the hotel, Yannis had told Manolis to be back in Agios Isidoros to collect us around 2:30, which seemed optimistic.
We got out of the car around 9:30. So making the summit was going to be a challenge if we were to be back by 2:30, or even 4:30.
To cut to the chase: we didn’t make the summit. Nor did we make it to Agios Isidoros at 2:30.
The challenges began at the beginning. We couldn’t find the trail. It started at the bottom of a gully that had evidently had quite a torrent of water flowing through it recently.
The riverbed was a mishmash of random rocks that we clambered over feeling stupid until I spotted the distinctive straight line of a trail up the far bank. We reached it with only a little scrambling and began our walk.
It was unrelentingly steep, rocky, and spiky. Also sunny. No shade on Attaviros!
We ascended doggedly and finally crested a rise to reach the level of the windmills that cover the tops of the mountains.
We were still climbing at 1 pm, and it was pretty clear that we stood no chance of making our pickup time even if we turned around right then and there. We figured Manolis didn’t mind hanging out at a taverna shooting the breeze with his buddies for an hour or two, so we took a break for Chris to fly the drone. Then we headed back down that thorny, rocky trail.
I’d brought along Maria’s trekking poles to see if they might help me speed up my descents. I’ve tried and discarded the things multiple times in the past, but people do swear by them. To be clear, it’s not my knees that I’m worried about, and I remain unconvinced that flimsy poles can offer more assistance to knees than simply wearing shoes that allow full ankle flexibility. I just have short legs and a sometimes wonky hip, and find big steps down a bit difficult, especially if I’m trying not to rake my calves through the spiky plants that completely cover the trail in places. (I could wear long pants or gaiters; I choose staying cool over leg protection.) Touching fingertips to a wall or the hand of a partner is helpful for balance shifts—not as a support, but just as data—and I still think poles might be a useful aid to proprioception.
Alas, it was not to be. As per usual, I mainly found that the poles got in the way of my own balance and ability to use my hands to navigate the terrain. (I see nothing wrong with descending very steep sections on my butt….) I remain open to using poles in Nepal—maybe they’ll make all the difference on the scary sections.
We clambered down the last rocks into the washed-out riverbed close to 4:00 PM. Another 15 minutes and we were at Petros’ tavern, where Manolis had clearly been installed for some time. After a quick lemonade, we headed back to Embonas and the pool.
That evening, we returned to Maroullakis for more wonderful local meat. I asked the hostess what I should try this time, since the lamb was so good. She suggested liver. It’s not my favorite, but I’ve been trying to train myself out of my American prejudices against one of the healthiest foods in existence, so liver I had.
