Hardcore Beartrackers

the other day we moved a cage. I dont know if i explained this properly, but the Bear Project has several cages located in various remote corners of Intag, for the purpose of catching a bear in order to collar it. They are made of ten large steel panels screwed together into a rectangular prism with a trap door triggered when the bear pulls on the bait inside - a cow's foot. The trapdoor shutting also activates a collar to emit a signal that we can hear by radio and know that we caught something.
A few days ago, the volunteers met their biggest challenge yet: moving a cage. This particular cage was located in a maize field. The bears enjoy looting the corn, a fact that local farmers dont like very much. We were assigned the task of moving it from this field to another one - down a steep hill covered in fallen tree trunks, across a river with no bridge, through thick grass, and up half of a very steep mountain to another cornfield. We all arrive at the cage, sweaty from climbing down and then up to the field and Alberto starts taking it apart with our one and only spanner. Pretty soon Sara, Donna and Ashley start taking the panels down one by one towards the river, while Joe and I stay and help dismantle. The panels are not only large, they are awkward and heavy and I have somehow gotten it into my head that I will be able to carry two of them up the hill. The steep descent is difficult enough, I roll a panel (using its corners) downwards, while trying to balance myself by grabbing onto nearby foliage. The soil gives away under me and I'm sliding downwards between treetrunks and lianas, desperately trying not to loose control of the panel. Eventually we end up with a pile of panels next to the river. Then Ashley gets attacked by a swarm of bees and stung. Luckily the rest of us avoided them somehow. In the midst of that chaos, Joe and I manage to move all the panels across the river, both of us balancing on rocks, me passing the heavy things to Joe who tosses them onto the adjacent bank. I dont know how he managed to throw them. Alberto arrives with the last of the panels, helps Joe and I tie our panels together - the three of us take two, the others take one for the climb. With much effort I get them onto my back, they are so heavy that if I angle them too far forward I almost fall head over heels, but if they aren't mostly on my back, I dont have the arm strength to keep holding them . I know I mentioned this before but I say it again: Alberto is a machine. He carries two on his back practically running the whole way up, even when it gets extremely steep and its like trying to climb tall stairs. Joe and I follow more slowly, sinking into the high grass, breaking through spiderwebs unintentionally. My back is completely bent, the panels are so big that I cant easily straighten up. There isnt a cloud in the sky and I'm drenched in sweat. We get to the steep part and Joe starts rolling his panels upwards. I try this but I barely have the strength after a few rolls - pushing on a given side while holding panels upright, balancing them on their corners. I develop a new method: I stand in front of the panels, facing back down, taking a few steps backwards (up mountainside), pull the panels up a short distance and then do it again. Its a long process. Alberto has vanished far above us. He reappears when we still have a ways to go, to get the last panel still down by the river and carry it up. By this time, I'm totally exhausted. I have already had a near accident where I lost control of the panels and they fell about 6 feet back down the path. Luckily no one was close behind me. Finally we make it to the edge of the cornfield, which is just as steep as anywhere else on the mountain, but at least now we are rolling sideways. We arrive at the designated spot; high-fives all around, Joe and I run back down to get the backpacks and I find myself carrying the cowfoot, break for lunch, and then help set the cage up again. This part isnt easy either, because we have to keep manouvering the pieces so that we can screw them all together right. Then we grease the trapdoor so it will close more quickly and make a protective screen around it, chopping deadwood branches into smaller sticks with a machete and tieing them all together, and finally covering with leaves. Bears apparently have ripped off the trapdoors in the past by climbing on top of the cages instead of inside, so the screen stops them from doing this. By this time we are all ready to jump into a shower, I' m completely covered in sweat, blood, grease and dirt, but we still have to climb the rest of the way up the mountain and then walk 5km back to the volunteer house. Joe and I race part of the way, we're so tired we are hyper. Another day in the life of a beartracker passes, as does my tan in the shower.