Since mid-2008, my life has been full of near-constant reminders that nothing is ever guaranteed. It’s easy to get lulled into a sense of complacency when most of us move about within the security of our own self-constructed routines. We think we know who we are and exactly where we’re going- and it’s only when our trajectory suddenly veers off the road that we find ourselves re-evaluating things. A potentially painful experience, but it can also leave you doing things that you never thought you’d ever attempt.
Like this:
What: Climb Mount Kilimanjaro
Where: Tanzania
When: 18-24 July 2011
Who: Team Kilimanjaro is leading the charge
Why: Uhh…..checking out the gorillas in Rwanda was all booked up, seemed like an appropriate substitute….
I have no bucket list. In fact, all of the stuff that I have done thus far in my life seems accomplished completely par hasard. By accident. As my second boss once described me, “ASWO, you like broad concepts.” He was right, and that has certainly been the name of the game since 2008. I’m just not in the business of asking for too much anymore.
That’s probably not a good way of describing how I found myself packing to climb Mount Kilimanjaro, but that’s about as detailed as I can explain. After receiving some great advice from others who had made the climb, Sara and I felt largely ready to attempt this seven day nature hike.
About two months ago, I was sitting at a cafe in Stuttgart when I overheard a group of people discussing how to best climb Kilimanjaro. A most random yet opportune moment, I crashed their table and they graciously allowed me to listen in and take notes. These plastic bags, each containing a day’s worth of clothes for the climb, was one great tip that I picked up from these nice people.
So ready or not, we were on our way.
Day One
“It’s actually quite hilly.” – Jenny, one of our British climbers..
Our climbing odyssey started out at our lodge in Arusha with a 0800 departure. As we climbed into the Team Kilimanjaro bus, Sara and I were still trying to sort out our financial situation after having been mugged the day before in broad daylight. The experience left me relieved of an iPod, my trusty blogging camera and credit cards. It also left me face down in street in the middle of traffic- and I was lucky that I didn’t get further harmed, because being run over by a car would probably have precluded me from attempting a mountain assault that morning.
Although a little shaken up, Sara and I would not be deterred from achieving our objective- there are no guarantees in life, remember? Furthermore, Sara and I are SWOs, so we’re not about to let a sudden bout of penniless existence ruin our big plans to climb a huge mountain. With all of this in mind, that morning we set out towards a completely new adventure with our fellow climbers: three Aussies, two Brits and another American.
The bus ride to the mountain is somewhat anti-climactic as it takes five hours and includes stops for us to register ourselves at the base of the mountain before driving a further two hours to our selected trail (Rongai).
Before arriving at the trail, all Kilimanjaro climbers must stop here and get registered before commencing their ascent. Here you see lots of porters standing around, waiting with various sundries and personal items. There is also a small hut at the entrance selling any last minute stuff that you might have forgotten- for a price. My buddy Arnie said that they were selling Snickers bars for $5 bucks a pop.
Once the bus ride up to 1800 meters is over, we finally arrive at game start. It’s about 13:00 so the cook prepares our first meal of soup, bread and other stuff before we set out to climb. Our team guide is named Jonas- he’s a tall and taciturn man who immediately inspires confidence. He also looks like you wouldn’t want to piss him off, but in that regard you feel confident in his abilities.
Behold the clean and happy group. Left to right we have Joe, Jennifer, Julia, Jon, Lachlan (or Mocklom, or however his name got butchered throughout the trip by the team guides).
Each day we travel on foot with a daypack- it contains 2 to 3 liters of water, a rain jacket and pants, snacks and other small things that you might need during the course of the climb. This kind of pack load is about as unimpressive as you can get. What is impressive is the fact that our group of eight climbers has a support network of 27 porters and 3 guides. The porters carry things like tents, our big backpacks, food, a portable toilet and their own crap up the mountain, while we “rough it” with out day packs.
Here’s our first glimpse of the Team Kilimanjaro porters heading up the mountain. They blow right past us with 20 kilogram sacks of stuff on their heads. Yes, they cruise on past us, and thus arrive at camp to set things up and be ready for our arrival. Yes, it’s hard work- and these guys are athletes of transportation. We can see them sweating as they glide over rocky surfaces and leave us in their dust- I thank god I’m just a military officer.
After about three hours of hiking in baboon-infested corn fields and pine trees (no kidding), we arrive to find camp already set up at 3000 meters. We immediately love our team of guides and porters- as they are the ones who pop us fresh popcorn and cook three course meals for us each night (a simple soup, a main dish and cookies of some sort). Nothing terribly fancy, but we are grateful for their work.
As the sun goes away and takes the warmth with it, we quickly learn that we will have to adjust our schedules to accommodate the daylight. It’s cold outside, but we linger in our mess tent for a little while wearing our new favorite accessory (headlamps/headtorches) before retiring for the evening. I can’t think of the last time I was in bed at 8pm, but it was too cold to sit outside.
Day 2
“Where baby wipes are the new definition of clean!”
We wake up the next morning and get tent-side service of our choice of a hot beverage. The lot of us are excited that Cadbury’s Drinking Chocolate is on the serving tray, and this lifts our spirits after awakening to a tent filled with condensation. It’s cold camping in the winter, and Sara and I do do our best to break into our baby wipe stash and clean off before attempting a dressing routine from inside of our coccoon sleeping bags. No small feat.
Waking up in our tent. Hey, I never said that camping was glamorous.
Once outside of our tents, we look around at our surroundings and for the first time get a glimpse of our objective:
Thar she be. Genius Megan, I looked up at the white part and said “Wow! Someone pitched tents up there! Oh wait….those are big ass glaciers.” I’m wicked smart.
We make our way to the mess tent and fill up on porridge (which I find to be quite tasty- maybe because it’s served hot), eggs, bread and other various offerings. I quickly rediscover that I am a fan of peanut butter and jelly- although the lonely tub of Blue Brand “fat spread” is largely neglected by us diners.
Jonas, our intrepid leader, always makes a showing at the mess tent to ensure that we are ready for the day’s hike. He also takes our blood oxygen levels to ensure we won’t die on him, and before we know it we are out the door, walking poles in hand. Meanwhile, the crew of 27 porters are busy breaking camp down and getting ready to scoot up the mountain ahead of us.
We head out to enjoy eight hours of steep uphill hiking. Frequent water stops are ensured by our Mecksol, or “Mighty Max”- our Kenyan guide at the front. He keeps telling us that climbing the mountain is “Easy Peasey Lemon Squeezie”, but I find this hard to believe as we scramble up some of the rocky faces and I try not to tumble over. I should mention that as we are laboring along, our porters have broken down camp, caught up to us, and have overtaken our group. Amazing.
We sight camp at around 1630, and are now situated at 3600 meters. Through camraderie or general suffering, our group has grown tight rather quickly, and each day’s interaction allows new opportunities for cultural enrichment. By the end of day two, for example, I learned what the term “credit-carding” means, as welll as the possibliity for one to get pejazzled or vagazzled. We share a lot of laughs and dine on a hearty supper before deciding that it is getting cold outside. I head out to brush my teeth and notice as I look up how absolutely amazing the stars are from this vantage point. No artificial city light, just elevation and frosty cold air. I’d sit outside and enjoy it a bit longer, but I have a sleeping back that will probably take a good hour to warm up- so I retire to my tent.
Day 3
“Did you sign up for this trip to just get to the top, or were you fancying a lovely walk?”
We wake up to even colder conditions (I have started sleeping with my beanie and neckwarmer on). We are getting used to our routine of afternoon and morning baby wipe baths, but this is the first morninng where I have zipped open the tent and have found frost chips falling on my head.
Even though it’s cold, the view from where we are at is incredible. We are above the clouds, yet from here they just look like a blanket of cotton that you could dive into.
In the mess tent the porridge has taken on a gruel consistency, but I’m still partaking in the offering. I eat my peanut butter and jelly sandwich, get my oxygen levels read, and we are on the go again.
Kili, you are slowly getting bigger!
Although I didn’t exactly train for climbing Mount Kilimanjaro (five weeks of drinking in Europe did not qualify) I have found that my foundation as a distance runner has really helped- and not just from a cardio standpoint (but yes, that definitely helped). On this trip I have used my Nuun tablets, GU supply and running sunglasses (my Ray-Bans went the way of my purse).
And there go the porters again, still whizzing by us to reach 4600 meters long before we will, even though it’s getting harder to breathe.
After about only three hours of hiking we arrive at camp. I’m grateful for the short day, as am I grateful for the basin of hot water that is always delivered to us upon arrival each afternoon. There is so much dust out here that you feel like you are walking in moondust, and it gets into every crevice of you and your stuff. Each morning is a relaive exercise in futility as you try and remove the dirt from your hands and fingernails with baby wipes (thank you, Laurie!).
Our camp is next to this scum pond, which is used by our magician porters create potable water for us. It’s beautiful here, and we take an afternoon climb to ensure that we “climb high, sleep low” in order to acclimate to the altitude. No one in our group thus far has any major altitude sickness symptoms, which is a good thing (thank you Arnie for making me get Diamox!).
Sara and I in front of “TK09” our tent away from home for the week.
And here we are doing the bonus afternoon hike. We’ve got Sara, Angela, Jon and G.I. Joe (no really, his name is Joe and he was an Army officer). It’s a great climb that yields gorgeous views. We roll to the top of this rocky crag, hang out for 15 minutes before rolling back down without falling. Thank you, walking poles.
So that’s it for the first three days. I’ll hit pause here and will pick up our hiking torture as soon as I give my eyeballs a break and get out of the Addis Ababa airport. It was a great hike, and I look forward to reliving the steeper, more slippery and treacherous part two of the climb.