Boonie Stomping

Boonie stomping is a wildly popular pass-time on Guam. Essentially, boonie stomping is hiking around the jungle. That's it. The simplicity is genius. There are no trails, no rules, you just get outside and walk around the jungle. Since the island is small, you could conceivably walk from the east coast to the west coast before lunch. Getting lost is possible but difficult. If you keep walking sooner or later you will come to a road or a village. Even though the island is small relative to the mainland U.S., the 225 square miles of island present the pedestrian with significant exploration opportunities.

On Saturday morning I accompanied my roommate Bret and two of his friends on a boonie stomp. Our destination was Singua waterfall and, upon my request, the tank farm. We drove up to Nimitz Hill to begin our stomp heading in an easterly direction. Apparently this is a popular place to begin such walks because there were several cars and a dozen people already there. In any case, we began walking down a heavily eroded 4x4 trail. Erosion caused by construction, grass fires, and 4x4s is an enormous problem on Guam. The soil, tainted with chemicals and pollution, flows directly into the ocean and immediately kills any coral reef that it contacts. Erosion has already decimated a significant amount of coral reef and threatens to destroy more if such practices remain unstopped.

We follow the trail for several miles until Bret, riding a head on a bike, locates a Sherman tank from World War II. Heavy vegetation shields the tank from view but I immediately climb on top of it anyway. Wow! A real Sherman tank destroyed by Japanese fire! Both guns and the engine have been removed, probably shortly following the war. It only occurs to me later that someone's life might have ended inside that rusting hulk.

We continue on the trail and come across yet another Sherman tank. This tank is out in the open, free of vegetation. While the guns have been removed, the enormous diesel engine is still inside - Detroit's finest. It is surprising to me that such an obviously historic object is allowed to remain out in the open to decay and rust away. But, looking around I realize how difficult it would be to move this 20 ton tank without roads.

We continue on to the waterfall, but after a while, Bret admits to leading us in the wrong direction. We move overland, finally leaving behind established trails. It is not easy. The local grass is known as sword grass and for good reason - the sides of the long leaves can cut you very easily and it can grow to over eight feet high. Bret and his friends pull out gloves, but I have none. Very soon my hands and legs are cut from the razor sharp edges of the sword grass. Pushing and manhandling your way through dense grass is an intense workout. Very soon I am exhausted. After a long struggle through heavy growth, we realize that we have gone in a large circle - right back where we started. We head back to the last tank to retrace our steps, the tank is visible on the horizon. From there, Bret finds the correct route. After a few minutes, we see the waterfall. It appears to flow into a deep hole in the earth. Bret explains that in the wet season this is an enormous waterfall with a huge volume of water, but today, in the middle of the dry season, it is but a trickle. We veer down into the steep river valley. This is a very popular destination, clearly demonstrated by the heavily eroded path and the dozens of ropes attached to trees to help with the descent and assent. But it is worth the effort. At the bottom is a deep pool of cool fresh water. We all take a dip and jump off the cliff a few times.

After half an hour, it is 1:30 and time to head back to the car. At 4pm, Bret has to go to the weekly Hash (Detail soon to come) and I too am planning to attend the Hash. The hike back is exhausting. I am out of water and I realize two things: 1. I am out of shape 2. I am very dehydrated. It soon becomes effort just to lift my feet and keep walking. I also realize that despite the 88 degrees and 100% humidity, I have stopped sweating. That can't be good. I borrow a few sips of water and soldier on. Finally we make it back to the car and I can't remember the last time I felt so exhausted. At this point, there is no way that I will be up for any more physical activity today, let alone going to a Hash in less than two hours. But after a quick lunch from Wendy's and as much water as I can drink, I feel better and slightly more ambitious...