Mount Mulanje (Malawi): August 2019
Posted: September 8th, 2019, 7:48 am
I returned to the land of my birth and upbringing (Malawi) for a visit along with various members of my brother’s and sister’s families as well as my son, Jake (My wife declined the opportunity and stayed home). After everyone else had returned to the U.S., I was able to depart Blantyre, the city where I was born and raised, for the precipitous slopes of Mount Mulanje for five days of hiking/scrambling. It is worth noting that Malawi regularly finds itself listed among the 10 poorest countries on the planet, but it remains a very safe country to travel in, with a people whose friendliness more than compensates for the regular electricity blackouts and somewhat frayed infrastructure.
Mulanje, at 9,850 feet, is the highest mountain in Malawi, and the highest prominence in Africa between the East African volcanoes (Kilimanjaro, etc.) and South Africa’s Drakensberg. It is, in fact, one of the world’s largest inselbergs, a series of exposed plateaux and granite prominences, with over 50 climb-worthy peaks and Africa’s tallest climbing wall, the west face of Chambe, which rises about 5,500 feet above the Phalombe Plain. The massif is skirted by tea estates, tea being one of Malawi’s major export crops, with some descendants of the original Scottish owners still in residence.
I took a small minibus from Limbe, next to Blantyre, to Mulanje town for 1,000 Malawi Kwacha (about $1.30). It took about an hour and a half, and the bus, designed to hold 10 passengers, was conveying 19 human sardines at one point. In Mulanje, I hooked up with Stanford and Maxwell, two licensed guides, and hired them both, with Maxwell acting as cook/porter and Stanford as guide (The Malawi Department of Forestry requires guides in the forest reserve). The going rate is about $25/day. We rented bicycle taxis for MK100 to Chitakale, a junction town, and purchased food for the trip there. Then we took motorcycle taxis to Likhubula, where we signed in with the Forestry Department and paid for three nights in mountain huts at a whopping MK1000 per night (There are 10 huts on the mountain; the oldest was constructed in 1899). I spent the night in the Likhubula Hiker’s Nest, which offered great views to the granite cliffs above.
The next morning, bright and early, Stanford, Maxwell, and I began our hike up the Skyline Path. This route roughly parallels a cableway that was constructed by British colonials to convey timber down the mountain. The cable is no longer used, and the hike wound up through brachystegia (miombo) woodland to the Chambe Plateau, one of several grassy expanses on this vast mountain. On the plateau, it’s clear the hand of human interference is much evident. The British planted Mexican weeping pine here for its timber value, but also inadvertently seemed to have imported golden Himalayan raspberry, the devil’s club of the berry world. The mountain is home to one of the most aromatic trees in the world, Malawi’s national tree, the critically endangered Mulanje cedar (Whiddringtonia whytei) – like our “cedars” a member of the cypress family. At various points, I could smell it, but only where a poacher had illegally chopped one down and dismembered the remains to produce small logs for the woodcarving industry.
We arrived at Chambe Hut and had the rest of the afternoon to loll about and stare at Chambe’s south face, a mere 1,600 feet of sheer granite. Mulanje is a big draw on the African backpacker circuit, and soon a couple of young German women, two Englishmen, and an Irish national showed up. The hut caretakers hire porters to bring up a supply of beer, and the price was only double that of Blantyre supermarkets, so in the evening we eagerly contributed to the caretaker’s meager income.
Early the next morning, Stanford and I embarked on the conquest of Chambe, one of the more difficult peaks on the Mulanje. We tackled the crest of Chambe’s fin from the east end, and soon found ourselves clambering up cracks in what is one continuous, very steep granite face. We passed from the plateau to slopes dotted with otherworldly aloes and vellozias. Views began to open up to other peaks on the eastern side of Mulanje, including the three “sisters” of Nandalanda, Khuto, and Dzole. Eventually swinging to the north face, we scrambled up to the summit. Views were not spectacular as it was the dry season. Much dust hung in the air, bush fires – some set by hunters – were at their peak, and most Malawian villagers still use wood fires for cooking. A brown smog layer rendered the Phalombe Plain below barely visible.
Stanford and I returned to Chambe Hut, took a lunch break, and then, with Maxwell, spent the afternoon hiking to Chisepo Hut. We followed a route up off the Chambe Plateau and along a ridge known as the Knife Edge, passing through native cloud forest crashing with blue monkeys. The steep walls of the Thuchila Valley bisected the massif to the north. Then we rose over a pass for the final descent to Chisepo, here getting a view to Nakodzwe, the second highest peak on the mountain.
The Mulanje Massif, along with its sister massif in Mozambique, Namuli, is host to several endemic species of plants. I was fortunate to encounter some of these as I hiked around. (Run your cursor over the pictures to see the IDs):
Chisepo is the staging ground for Sapitwa, the highest peak on Mulanje. It is also the highest hut on the mountain, and temperatures were close to freezing at night. The next morning, Stanford and I headed up the slopes, a steep scramble up domed granite, like Chambe, but then a lengthy exercise in clambering between, under, and over massive boulders. Gnarled hobbit copses of Mulanje’s other cypress, the more common Widdringtonia nodiflora, alternated with lichen-draped grottoes. Sapitwa means “Don’t go there”, and local lore narrates that the summit area is the hangout of spirits of nebulous intentions. We suffered no untoward conseqences, and duly returned to Chisepo Hut for a second night, this time with my toes bleating bitterly over the torture of steep granite descents.
My exit from the mountain took a different route as we headed down the Chapaluka Path which runs close to major mountain streams. Woodcutters danced passed us with loads of logs on their heads, and we passed several cool pools but held out until we reached 60-foot-deep Dziwe la Nkhalamba, the “pool for old men” – aptly named in my case – at the foot of Likhubula Falls. I took an extended swim in the freezing waters there and then, much refreshed, trotted on down to Likhubula for my last night at Mulanje before the return to Blantyre.
A hiking guide available online describes numerous routes on the mountain: Hiking Guide to Mount Mulanje
Mulanje, at 9,850 feet, is the highest mountain in Malawi, and the highest prominence in Africa between the East African volcanoes (Kilimanjaro, etc.) and South Africa’s Drakensberg. It is, in fact, one of the world’s largest inselbergs, a series of exposed plateaux and granite prominences, with over 50 climb-worthy peaks and Africa’s tallest climbing wall, the west face of Chambe, which rises about 5,500 feet above the Phalombe Plain. The massif is skirted by tea estates, tea being one of Malawi’s major export crops, with some descendants of the original Scottish owners still in residence.
I took a small minibus from Limbe, next to Blantyre, to Mulanje town for 1,000 Malawi Kwacha (about $1.30). It took about an hour and a half, and the bus, designed to hold 10 passengers, was conveying 19 human sardines at one point. In Mulanje, I hooked up with Stanford and Maxwell, two licensed guides, and hired them both, with Maxwell acting as cook/porter and Stanford as guide (The Malawi Department of Forestry requires guides in the forest reserve). The going rate is about $25/day. We rented bicycle taxis for MK100 to Chitakale, a junction town, and purchased food for the trip there. Then we took motorcycle taxis to Likhubula, where we signed in with the Forestry Department and paid for three nights in mountain huts at a whopping MK1000 per night (There are 10 huts on the mountain; the oldest was constructed in 1899). I spent the night in the Likhubula Hiker’s Nest, which offered great views to the granite cliffs above.
The next morning, bright and early, Stanford, Maxwell, and I began our hike up the Skyline Path. This route roughly parallels a cableway that was constructed by British colonials to convey timber down the mountain. The cable is no longer used, and the hike wound up through brachystegia (miombo) woodland to the Chambe Plateau, one of several grassy expanses on this vast mountain. On the plateau, it’s clear the hand of human interference is much evident. The British planted Mexican weeping pine here for its timber value, but also inadvertently seemed to have imported golden Himalayan raspberry, the devil’s club of the berry world. The mountain is home to one of the most aromatic trees in the world, Malawi’s national tree, the critically endangered Mulanje cedar (Whiddringtonia whytei) – like our “cedars” a member of the cypress family. At various points, I could smell it, but only where a poacher had illegally chopped one down and dismembered the remains to produce small logs for the woodcarving industry.
We arrived at Chambe Hut and had the rest of the afternoon to loll about and stare at Chambe’s south face, a mere 1,600 feet of sheer granite. Mulanje is a big draw on the African backpacker circuit, and soon a couple of young German women, two Englishmen, and an Irish national showed up. The hut caretakers hire porters to bring up a supply of beer, and the price was only double that of Blantyre supermarkets, so in the evening we eagerly contributed to the caretaker’s meager income.
Early the next morning, Stanford and I embarked on the conquest of Chambe, one of the more difficult peaks on the Mulanje. We tackled the crest of Chambe’s fin from the east end, and soon found ourselves clambering up cracks in what is one continuous, very steep granite face. We passed from the plateau to slopes dotted with otherworldly aloes and vellozias. Views began to open up to other peaks on the eastern side of Mulanje, including the three “sisters” of Nandalanda, Khuto, and Dzole. Eventually swinging to the north face, we scrambled up to the summit. Views were not spectacular as it was the dry season. Much dust hung in the air, bush fires – some set by hunters – were at their peak, and most Malawian villagers still use wood fires for cooking. A brown smog layer rendered the Phalombe Plain below barely visible.
Stanford and I returned to Chambe Hut, took a lunch break, and then, with Maxwell, spent the afternoon hiking to Chisepo Hut. We followed a route up off the Chambe Plateau and along a ridge known as the Knife Edge, passing through native cloud forest crashing with blue monkeys. The steep walls of the Thuchila Valley bisected the massif to the north. Then we rose over a pass for the final descent to Chisepo, here getting a view to Nakodzwe, the second highest peak on the mountain.
The Mulanje Massif, along with its sister massif in Mozambique, Namuli, is host to several endemic species of plants. I was fortunate to encounter some of these as I hiked around. (Run your cursor over the pictures to see the IDs):
Chisepo is the staging ground for Sapitwa, the highest peak on Mulanje. It is also the highest hut on the mountain, and temperatures were close to freezing at night. The next morning, Stanford and I headed up the slopes, a steep scramble up domed granite, like Chambe, but then a lengthy exercise in clambering between, under, and over massive boulders. Gnarled hobbit copses of Mulanje’s other cypress, the more common Widdringtonia nodiflora, alternated with lichen-draped grottoes. Sapitwa means “Don’t go there”, and local lore narrates that the summit area is the hangout of spirits of nebulous intentions. We suffered no untoward conseqences, and duly returned to Chisepo Hut for a second night, this time with my toes bleating bitterly over the torture of steep granite descents.
My exit from the mountain took a different route as we headed down the Chapaluka Path which runs close to major mountain streams. Woodcutters danced passed us with loads of logs on their heads, and we passed several cool pools but held out until we reached 60-foot-deep Dziwe la Nkhalamba, the “pool for old men” – aptly named in my case – at the foot of Likhubula Falls. I took an extended swim in the freezing waters there and then, much refreshed, trotted on down to Likhubula for my last night at Mulanje before the return to Blantyre.
A hiking guide available online describes numerous routes on the mountain: Hiking Guide to Mount Mulanje