Trekking in a prehistoric landscape

The Gich Abyss is a showstopper we encounter within an hour of Dawoud Su layman, the park’s preeminent guide, leading us away from the Sankaber trailhead. At the time, standing above a horseshoe of giant, dun-colored cliffs, watching a slender cone of water vaporize into mist as it tumbled into a chasm so deep we could not see the bottom, I would have said the abyss alone was worth the journey. It turned out we were just getting started.

From that moment forward, the Simiens exerted a vise-like grip on our party: Dawoud and I up front, girlfriend Lucy — admirably tolerant of my tendency to scamper ahead — chaperoned by Alemu, the obligatory scout. While Dawoud had talked a lot, Alemu hadn’t said anything beyond “en heed’’ (let’s go). But it was clear that Alemu loved his bolt-action rifle. It never left the crook of his shoulder, even in slumber. Thankfully, his was one of the last weapons left.

From 1983 to 1999, the park was closed to visitors because of nearby political strife, first the Tigrayan rebel movement, later the drawn-out conflict between Ethiopia and Eritrea. But times have changed. Increasing visitor numbers and the opening of the Simien Lodge, said to be Africa’s highest-altitude hotel at over 10,800 feet, attest to the ever-louder bleep the Simiens are emitting on the intrepid trekker’s radar. To come here now felt like beating the stampede.

So, why the gun? “To warn away the kids,’’ Dawoud had claimed. Research later suggested this was overkill; when we weaved through Gich village, not a single child threw a grenade. Several shouted hello. Most just ran away.

Indeed, other than the absolute-certain-death-scenario of keeling off a cliff, our biggest problem had been the weather. But the roiling mantle of purple-gray that drenched us that first afternoon had subsided next dawn, as we started northeast to join the morning commute. Rush-hour began up a slope to our left — a dozen or so simian silhouettes cantering along an outcrop. Soon the numbers multiplied: 20, 50, 100 . . .