The highest point in the Falklands is what I'd climb today, partially in search of a geocache and partially for the novelty of scaling the highest point in a country. Though by no means Mt. Fuji, Mt. Usborne is no walk in the park. Derek, one of Keith's farmhands, would give me a lift to the base of Mt. Usborne. The weather was sunny and gorgeous again but Keith said firmly "if the fog rolls in, get your ass of the mountain." There was a grandfather whom a helicopter was sent searching for him after a bout of fog and though he was waving from only 20 metres away, the crew didn't see him and left. My personal advice for any visitor to the Falklands: if you're spending any time in camp, get a local SIM card. They are pricey, but it could mean the difference between life and death because if you call somebody, they'll likely come and get you. Derek knew exactly where to go; many trails off the main roads aren't clear, and there's no way I would have found my way to the base on my own.
High points in the UK (or in UK entities) tend to not be very high: Ben Nevis is the highest point in the UK at only 1,344 metres (4,409 feet), and Mt. Usborne is only 705 metres (2,313 feet). Due to exposure, high winds, cold, and solar radiation, it can be much harder than you'd expect. Up the mountain I walked undeterred, I was first after a geocache, only to find I was way off the listed coordinates, expecting it to be on the summit. Huffing and puffing, I decided I was first going to target the cache, then the summit. There was no way I'd make it all this way and turn back without reaching the summit. The wind was very powerful, and I had to hold on to my windbreaker tight as I tried to put it on. The clue for Mt. Usborne's geocache was "on top of a rock" but I found that hard to believe with the powerful wind. I looked in obvious hiding spots to no avail, only to spot something obvious in a place I previously had my eyes on. Unintentionally, I detached it from the rock when I grabbed it, only to find the log is a bit soggy. All finished signing, I surrounded it with some rocks to prevent it from being blown away. From there I was off toward the summit of Mt. Usborne and therefore, the Falkland Islands. On the horizon I spotted a pole, and I walked relentlessly toward it, all whilst avoiding rocks and puddles. In only a matter of time, I made it!
At the top there are two ammo boxes, one with a logbook. It's not a geocache, but a book to sign stating that you reached the highest point in the Falkland Islands. Up there I had that feeling of Chris Farrell euphoria, waving my arms with glee at another accomplishment. There were no other people up there and it was too windy to set my camera anywhere so this was my only selfie.
As much as I love to walk and climb, I've only reached the highest point in two countries: Japan and the Falkland Islands. Derek told me to call him as soon as I descended, so I called about 20 minutes before arriving at the base and he sent a local named Rodolfo (Dolfy) to pick me up. Later that evening, I went to Derek's home and we chatted about the climb. He asked me "have you had supper yet?" and although I planned on making something simple, I had my first invite into a Falkland home for dinner. "Supper" is part of the Falklands' vernacular much like it is in Pennsylvania. He made a simple yet tasty concoction of beef, tinned tomatoes, and so forth...nothing flashy, just effective.
Now that I've summited the highest point in the Falkland Islands, tomorrow I'm lacing up my boots and I'm going west...West Falkland that is. Already in a destination very remote, I feel I can only get more remote.
