The Coffee Road: Part Deux

Nine months after embarking on the original journey to the Mother Coffee tree [as chronicled in this week’s cover story], I had the opportunity to hike to the oldest Coffea arabica tree in the world once again. This time I would do make the approach coming in the opposite direction: a two-day journey coursing through a rocky river valley, relying only on a hastily printed map, my fuzzy memory, and a handful of helpful locals. Again I would wonder: Why all this hardship to make it to a tree?

Luckily it was the tail end of the dry season, and the un-dammed rivers were well below their flood levels. And, more thankfully, I was with a trio of gung-ho American dudes who would risk their skin for an adventure into the Kafa Biosphere Reserve. We followed animal trails along the river, ducking under vines and squeezing through dense foliage for as long as it stayed true. But then, abruptly, the trails ended, and there was only the river as a guide. We leapt from boulder to boulder, afraid of the parasites and bacterium that might afflict us if we fell into the dirty brown river. (The biggest threat was schisto, a worm parasite that is easily acquired in lakes and streams in Ethiopia.)

Oftentimes we had to boulder around sheer dropoffs, or duck under natural bridges and caves. One misstep and a rolled or broken ankle would’ve spelled disaster. No cellphone network. No passing locals. No Coast Guard helicopters rushing to our aid. If someone couldn’t walk, he’d have to be carried out of the gorge. This predicament only got worse when we exhausted all options and, at the cooling hour of 4 pm, had to hitch up our pants and wade through the waist-deep river, up and up the river valley.

Finally, at dusk, we found a suitable place to camp on a rocky sandbar on the side of the river. With moldy feet we pitched our tent, made soup over an open fire, and roasted marshmallows under a night sky with a million beads of starlight dripping on our heads. The next morning, after a harrowing traverse of waist-deep rapids and an uphill climb into foothills, we finally found the “road” that led us to the Mother Coffee tree. Once again, the tree itself was an underwhelming goal, but something occurred to me while I scooped tuna fish out of a can with glucose biscuits while sitting under the Great Tree: No destination is worth its weight in gold if it’s a cakewalk to get to. Mother Coffee was just a landmark we could slap and then turn around and trudge the rest of the way back to the main road, where a 4×4 vehicle awaited us. The route to get there was the trial and tribulation. The coffee trail was the destination.

When the four of us white boys spilled onto the main road, exhausted, hungry, soaking wet … a local elder stopped on the opposite side of the road and stared at us for a very long time. He leaned heavily on his walking stick. He contemplated our very existence. What were we doing here? Where did we come from? Where were we going? Long after the 4×4 LandCruiser spirited us away back to Bonga, the man stood silently on the side of the road, looking on, utterly baffled.

Follow more of Chuck’s ramblings and adventures at Narrantology http://chuckadams.tumblr.com/ and read more about the Kafa Biosphere Reserve at http://www.kafa-biosphere.com/

A Note From the Publisher

Dear Readers,

The last two years have been some of the hardest in Eugene Weekly’s 43 years. There were moments when keeping the paper alive felt uncertain. And yet, here we are — still publishing, still investigating, still showing up every week.

That’s because of you!

Not just because of financial support (though that matters enormously), but because of the emails, notes, conversations, encouragement and ideas you shared along the way. You reminded us why this paper exists and who it’s for.

Listening to readers has always been at the heart of Eugene Weekly. This year, that meant launching our popular weekly Activist Alert column, after many of you told us there was no single, reliable place to find information about rallies, meetings and ways to get involved. You asked. We responded.

We’ve also continued to deepen the coverage that sets Eugene Weekly apart, including our in-depth reporting on local real estate development through Bricks & Mortar — digging into what’s being built, who’s behind it and how those decisions shape our community.

And, of course, we’ve continued to bring you the stories and features many of you depend on: investigations and local government reporting, arts and culture coverage, sudoku and crossword puzzles, Savage Love, and our extensive community events calendar. We feature award-winning stories by University of Oregon student reporters getting real world journalism experience. All free. In print and online.

None of this happens by accident. It happens because readers step up and say: this matters.

As we head into a new year, please consider supporting Eugene Weekly if you’re able. Every dollar helps keep us digging, questioning, celebrating — and yes, occasionally annoying exactly the right people. We consider that a public service.

Thank you for standing with us!