Baraza

I am back from an exciting ten day conservation field course with three Princeton Undergraduates.  One of their assignments was to write a blog post about an issue in the spectacular site that is being protected by the local community near Lake Baringo in the Great Rift Valley.

Here is Sam Borchard’s first entry – enjoy and feel free to comment

Paula.

Adventuring in Baringo

Lake Baringo is full of captivating experiences – a quick boat ride around the lake will bring you within 30 feet of hippos, goliath herons, crocodiles, African fish eagles, and hundreds of other bird species.  Leave the shore and head to the Reptile Museum and you can see some of the most deadly snakes in the world (and hold some of the most adorable baby turtles in existence).  Yet the most exciting thing I saw during my trip wasn’t the animals or the lake itself, it was the 8km cliff line that overlooked the western shore.

 Massive 8km Cliff Line

As an enthusiastic rock climber peering up from the base of this colossal stone wall I could feel my heart race with excitement.  According to a member of the Kenyan Mountaineering Club I’d met the night before the large majority of the routes were unclimbed, just begging for a first ascent.  Visions of future trips with friends, of climbing and naming routes that future generations would look upon as classics, of writing guidebooks and starting a tourism-based guiding service rushed through my head.

The potential was incredible, but after calming down a bit I was forced to think a bit more about what the reality would entail.  How would the establishment of a climbing culture affect the environment here?  What would happen to the rock hyraxes who make their homes in the cliff cracks?  Or the birds that nest there?  Even with a strong “Leave No Trace” ethic physical impacts would be felt through erosion and wear at the base of the cliffs, not to mention the large number of chalked up cracks and ledges that would stay brightly visible through the dry season.  Is the creation of a climbing culture here worth the cost to the environment?

Personally I lean towards yes.  I believe that there is a compromise to be found between the goals of preservation and utilization of these areas.  While a full scale commercial climbing operation may be out of the question, completely eliminating it is in many ways just as extreme.  A small, properly managed climbing operation could certainly coexist with the wildlife in the area, while also offering visitors the opportunity to interact with the environment in a unique way.  Allowing activities like climbing (or boating, mountain biking, etc.) strengthens people’s connection to nature, which is the most important long term driver of conservation.  And while my dreams of becoming Lake Baringo’s climbing pioneer are a bit farfetched, who knows what the future may bring?

 Sam and a woman from local Turkana community