Just About On Top of the World: Climbing Mt. Toubkal

This July I embarked on a journey to climb as high as I possibly could in Morocco.  I had already gone to the center of the earth by way of the Grotte Friouato near Taza so it made sense that I would need to do the exact opposite.  I would have attempted to climb Mt.Everest, but it's not in Morocco so I had to settle for the highest peak in North Africa, Mt. Toubkal.

Summiting Mt. Toubkal, one could say, is a PC Morocco must.  It's on the circuit of must-see sites and activities that a lot of volunteers commit to doing before the end of their service.  With only five or so months left for me, I penciled in the journey for mid-July.  Some volunteers had said that the climb was not at all what they expected from the second highest peak in all of Africa.  Some were able to go up and down the mountain in a weekend without feeling much pain.  Others said that it was one of the toughest things they had ever done.  I was hoping that I would fall somewhere in the middle.  Both said, though, that the climb and ultimately summiting was well worth any pain they felt.  I did a little training to prep my self.  Three weeks prior to the climb, I began running 3-4 miles every other day and threw in some hills from time to time.  I felt I was in decent shape to take on the mountain.

The journey began at the Mohammedia train station where the day prior I had visited a couple of camp sites for the upcoming Camp GLOW.  Satisfied with the outlook of the camp, I took off to Marrakech where I would spend the night and then head out to Imlil, the launching point for most trekkers.  My Rough Guide to Morocco and several blogs recommended that trekkers spend the night in Imlil to acclimate to the elevation so I left Marrakech late morning hoping to get into Imlil sometime in the afternoon.

A PCV who had summited the mountain twice already and knows how tight our PC budgets can be suggested a cheap route to Imlil, which was to take a city bus from Marrakech at the Sidi Mimoun bus station to Tahanout (about 45 minutes and 7-8Dh), from Tahanout one could take a grand taxi to Asni (another 30-45 minutes), and then from Asni one could hop on another grand taxi to Imlil for another 30-45 minutes.

In all, I spent 22DH for the entire trip and it wasn't too unpleasant.  The city bus to Tahanout was in good shape and not too packed.  From Tahanout, we asked the locals for directions to the grand taxi Asni pickup spot and walked over there.  We saw grand taxis on the opposite side of the road dropping off passengers, but nothing came our way for about 20 minutes.  With no sign of a grand taxi to come and not wanting to wait for one in the hot sun, I and several others hopped on a semi-truck that was headed that way.  We didn't flag him down.  He honked at the group of people gathered at the spot, which was the driver's way of letting us know that he was in the business of taking passengers along with the rest of his produce.  We actually got the deluxe treatment sitting in the cabin.  I was a little cramped, but it was better than another guy who had his legs open-wide straddling the driver's seat--it looked like a painful 45 minute groin stretch.  Once we reached Asni, the truck driver just asked for the standard fare, which was around 7Dh.  Upon disembarking, I shook my legs a bit to restore them back to life, chilled out a bit at a really shady cafe with some scruffy characters typical of a pit-stop town, and then proceeded to the grand taxis heading to Imlil (8DH).  Finally, the Asni to Imlil stretch was a cool ride as the taxi coasted through the lush river bed of the Ait Mizane Valley.

I spent the night at a gite advertised in the Rough Guide called Chez Mohammed.  There are a lot of lodging options from refuge-like accommodations featuring rows of bunk beds in a general area to simple and luxurious private rooms.  When I asked around for the gite, not a lot of people knew about it, but they knew the landmarks that led to the location. So I walked towards the landmarks and kept asking people who kept saying a not-very-specific "Sir l-hih", go there.  I finally ran into a small sign on a light-post that pointed to the place.  I followed the arrow and then I arrived at another fork on the path divided by your typical Moroccan apartment building.  I didn't think that building was the place because it just looked like someone's home so I went around and asked some guys who were working on an irrigation channel, but they also had no idea where it was.  I went back to the same building, knocked on the door, asked if that was Chez Mohammed and lo and behold it was.

One of the ladies that greeted us who I presumed had to be related to Mohammed took me to the second floor and gave us a Vanna White presentation of the rooms.  They were simple rooms.  At that moment the place was vacant.  The price was better than the bunk-bed dorm accommodation: 50DH per person, per night, for a private room.  The only bad thing was there was no hot water.  They had a hot water heater, but at the time it was out of service.  No biggie, though.  Over the last year or so cold bucket showers have been the norm so I went ahead and used my fine-tuned zen meditation techniques to get through the initial shock.  The place did not feel like a hotel at all.  It literally is Mohammed's pad as its name says.

The next day another PCV and I headed out around 8am.  The ladies at Chez Mohammed held on to a few items that we did not want to take along with us.  We were told to follow this one road and so we did for about 30 minutes until we realized that we were following the wrong river valley.  We walked back and then made a turn onto the east trail toward Amrend.  We followed an irrigation channel until we arrived back at the Ait Mizane Valley.  The east trail is a rockier and steeper climb than the wide-open west trail, but it is ten times cooler under all the trees.  Plus once you begin to emerge from the trees, you walk straight into the small mountain village of Amrend.

Upon reaching Amrend, we crossed the bridge to the west trail.  We stocked up on some more water and snacks.  The Rough Guide advises one to stock up in Imlil or Sidi Chamarouch, but I would only advise people carry what they need for the trek to the refuge and not worry about what they will drink at the refuge.  Granted, the refuge will charge you 15DH as compared to 6DH at Imlil for a bottle of Ain Soltane, but I would gladly pay the extra 9DH (just a little over a dollar) for the convenience.  Every 1.5 liter bottle is a little over 3 pounds.  When one is climbing for 4-6 hours straight, every little pound begins to feel heavier and heavier as one moves along.

Once we passed Amrend, we arrived at a huge dry river bed.  We followed a path that cut across the river bed and led one directly to a welcome sign from Morocco's Ministry of Water and Forests that announced the start of Toubkal National Park.  From there one begins a gradual ascent on the side of a mountain zig-zagging along some steep passages.

There were tons of people moving through the trail, both on the way up and down.  It wasn't just foreign tour groups, but also a good number of Moroccans who were making the pilgrimage to Sidi Chamarouch, a small village painted all in white resting right on a mountain ravine through which flowed to what I assume to be the Ait Mizane river .

One lady who was on her way down was touching different rocks on one side of the mountain trail and with every touch she would say "Allah" (God) to which her daughters following right behind would echo and touch as well.

Lots of mules were passing through with not just trail gear, but huge suitcases.  Apparently some foreigners decided to bring every piece of luggage with them--rather inconsiderate when most hotels and gites will gladly hold onto whatever one doesn't want to take along.  The porters who pulled or pushed the mules along the trail were bookin'.  We tried keeping up at first, but we quickly felt too out of breath to keep up.  The sun was also bearing down on us so I decided to slow it down and save my reserves for the steeper ascent that was to come.

The 2-3 hour trek to Sidi Chamarouch was a little exhausting because of the heat, but it wasn't to tough a climb.  The Rough Guide forewarned us that from Sidi Chamarouch and on, it would be like jumping on a StairMaster for the next three hours.

We picked up some more water for 8Dhs per bottle--only a 2-3 dhs difference from Imlil.  All the soda and water vendors had an interesting way of refrigerating their drinks.  They had all their drinks stacked on a wall with punctured water hoses up top spraying the cold mountain stream water onto them.  It worked not only as a fridge, but also as an AC unit.  The drinks were cold, and sitting next to that wall and feeling that cool mist on our faces was absolutely refreshing.  The soda's were a little expensive, about 10Dh each, which is still not much of a markup (3-4dhs).

After resting our feet a bit, we immediately began the steep climb past the village and onto the trail towards the mountain refuge.  The first half hour was pretty challenging as we zig-zagged up the face of the mountain.  After that rough passage, the StairMaster goes down to a medium grade as you climb gradually while heading south on the face of the mountain walking parallel to the river of the Ait Mizane Valley.

About three hours later following the white marks leading up to the refuge, we finally arrived at base camp.  There were two facilities available: a French Alpine Club refuge and another fancier spot called Refuge Toubkal Les Mouflons.  We checked out the French alpine site and it was packed to the brim with various European tour groups and it was smelly and the price was 90DH per bunk bed, per night.  Les Mouflons offered bunk bed accommodations as well, but it was cleaner, smelled better, less crowded, felt warmer, and the staff was nicer.  Price-wise it was only 30Dhs more, still a bargain in dollar terms and well worth it.

At the crack of dawn (7ish), we began our ascent to the summit.  We got a couple of hiking sticks to steady our journey.  The staffer that gave us the sticks told us to follow the red dots this time.  He pointed to some people that were already on the trail and at first glance I thought that these people must be hugging the mountain because it looked so steep, but then I looked behind them and saw that there was visible trail cut into the mountain.

My only advice to people on the ascent is to follow the red dots like your life depends on it because it literally does.  At one point in the trail, we went off on a bit of a tangent and found ourselves in somewhat of a precarious situation.  We got to an area where there was a number of big boulders and a lot of loose rock.  Because we lost track of the red dots, we got a little scare from a couple of slips we took and had to use our spidey skills stretching our legs and arms to find solid ground to push off from or to grab onto.

At one point during that brief rough stretch, I remembered the heroic moves of Sylvester Stallone on Cliffhanger and let out a grunt like he did as I pushed off from one rock and onto another.  Eventually we made it back to safety, hamdullah.  My heart was pounding so fast mainly because of nerves, but also because of the altitude change.  Lesson learned! From then on, I thought of of nothing but red dots.  

Both the view and the climb were breathtaking.  Every 15 minutes or after going through rough spots, I stopped, took in some deep breaths, and allowed my pounding heart to revert back to a normal rhythm.

In these much-needed pauses, I took in the scenery.

This being my first ever mountain climb, I was taken aback by the magnitude of the mountain ridges that criss-crossed one another, the jagged peaks, the barren terrain, the thorny bushes that somehow had eeked out a living in this hostile environment, the snow that still lingered in the crevices of the the mountains, and the clear blue sky.

As we reached the summit, the trail just got a little more slippery.  People that had already summited were slipping and sliding down the mountain some face first and not for fun either.  I made sure of every step, but with so much loose scree, it felt like you had to take three steps for one step of progress.

Reaching the summit was a glorious moment.  I heard the Chariots of Fire theme music in the background as I approached the summit in the slow motion baby-steps (sometimes in all fours) I was reduced to over the last half hour.  Upon arrival, the Hallelujah Chorus--a bit out of place in an Islamic country--also came on out of the blue.  

We chowed down some snacks, took some shots, and took in the crisp cool air of the mountain top.

At the summit, we were met by some Spaniards that we chatted with the day before at the refuge.  We also ran into a group of young Moroccans whom we had passed and that passed us throughout our ascent and who were part of an association from the Agadir region dedicated to doing recreational activities.  On one of the ledges of the summit, there was also a group of Moroccans who were playing some Bob Marley tunes on their cellphones, were waving a flag with Bob Marley's face on it, and smoking a little hashish to celebrate.  It was an interesting mix of people.

About an half hour later, we began our descent back to the refuge.  I tried not to follow the example of those individuals that were sliding face-first down the mountain; so instead I leaned back, tried to take some sure steps, and whenever necessary I'd crouch down and do a one foot slide or butt slide down the loose scree portions of the trail.  I followed the red dots like a horse with blinders.   About an hour or so later, we finally spotted the refuge.

My legs were already sore from the previous day's hike to the refuge.  Most of the PCVs we spoke to had summited and then descended all the way to Imlil on the same day.  Some took advantage of a porter who hauled their stuff.  Not being in any kind of a hurry, we decided to chill out another night at the refuge and start back first thing the next morning.  My legs were grateful.

The hike back definitely took less time and was less tiring.  We saw the sun rising over the mountains. Some shaggy goats grazing.   The weather was a lot nicer on the way back too.  We made it back to Imlil in about 4 hours and then took a grand taxi straight to Marrakech for only 30Dhs.

Although I couldn't climb to the top of the world mainly because the mountain is not in my PC host country, I can say that I got about half way there.  Mt. Everest stands at a modest 8,848 meters (29,029ft) while Mt. Toubkal stands at a remarkable 4,167m or 13,671ft.  It's a notable feat in my eyes.  A great journey and another site I can now cross off the list.

Trip Essentials

Transpo: According to the Spaniards we encountered, they took a grand taxi from the Marrakech Airport to Imlil for 300DH (This is the standard fare when one books a taxi as private transport).  Usually, that taxi driver has to stop at the gendarmerie (police station) to explain that he is going outside of his route and get permission.  The better option is to go to the grand taxi station near Jmma El Fnna and book an entire taxi paying the standard 30Dh per person if you don't mind sharing or paying six fares worth 30DH each (180DH total) to book the entire taxi to Imlil.   If you don't mind taking in some more scenery and are in no rush, take the route I took from Marrakech to Tahanout by city bus (7DH) from the Sidi Mimoun city bus stop also near Jmma El Fnna, then hopping on a grand taxi or semi-truck from Tahanout to Asni (7DH), and then finally getting on another grand taxi from Asni to Imlil (8DH).

Accommodations:  Despite the cold shower, I still recommend Chez Mohammed for Imlil.  They have a number of rooms and a large living room with lots of ponges that could accommodate large groups.  They also offered to cook us a tagine for 50DH, which is about the same price we paid at the village's terrace restaurant.  It doesn't feel like you're in a hotel at all, but more like someone's home.  The surrounding area is quiet and away from the village traffic.  At 50DH per person, it's a great value.  Phone: 0524-48-56-16.  If you decide to go there, when you get there ask the locals about the school.  Mohammed's pad is 200 meters up the road from there.

At base camp, the Refuge Toubkal Les Mouflons was a great spot not only to rest, but to meet other hikers.  They have all inclusive packages that include meals.  We just paid for the bunk bed and ordered a tagine for one of the nights, which cost us 100Dh.  The bunk bed cost 120Dh per night.  The showers had hot water, but only one person could be showering at a time.  Staff was friendly and their hanut was well stocked with water and all sorts of snacks.  We didn't make reservations, but if I were to do it again, I would.  Large tour groups can arrive and take over entire rooms.

Gear: Ascending during the summer is a whole lot easier than winter.  No gear is necessary other than just a fine pair of hiking shoes with good traction, a couple of layers of clothing, and a windbreaker/rain jacket.  There's a lot of loose scree from the refuge to the summit so a couple of sturdy hiking sticks can certainly help in balancing and also to push and pull your way up the mountain.  The refuge loaned the sticks for 50DH each, which I thought was kind of steep.

Guides: In the summer, I don't think there is a need.  One can easily follow the white marks, which begin from Amrend all the way up to the refuge.  To the ascent, the red dots clearly mark the path one should take.  The winter is a different ballgame.  Because of snow, one may need to take alternate routes to the refuge or to summit that may not be clearly marked or as easy to follow.

Here are a few other links on Mt.Toubkal for your reading pleasure:

So supposedly there's going to be an ultra-marathonesque event around Toubkal in September 2010.  On my way down from the summit, I think I saw someone training for it.  As I took baby-steps down the slope supporting myself with my trusty hiking stick, there was this one guy in short shorts with a water bottle in hand who was literally sprinting down the mountain hopping, skipping, and just bouncing off the boulders like a street acrobat. Check it out: http://www.toubkalchallenge.com/

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Toubkal