Photos : Kilimanjaro Climb Via Rongi Route Gallery Page 12/09
The plan and the plane
There’s no rhyme nor reason why I said it but once said there was only one thing to do. Go through with it. Around 6 years ago I set my second ‘five 5 year’ goals. One of which was to climb Mt Kilimanjaro. I was living in Australia and had never ventured to Africa although I knew it was a place I wanted to visit. Its attraction was both rational and emotional. I was drawn to Africa for cultural reasons but I also wanted to explore the deserts and see wildlife I’d not see in Australia. Ok so there you go…self indulgent waffle number 1.
Around Oct 2008 I planned to climb Kili early Jan 2009. I was continuing my training being BJJ and thought this should serve me well as it deals with stress and oxygen deprivation. This is true however what is also true about BJJ is you can get injured. The type and amount of injuries is almost endless however for hiking you really don’t want to have your knees injured. I bet you can already guess what happened to me. Yep. I injured my knee. We weren’t sure how long it would take to recover so erring on the side of caution aka Chris saying with a slight grin “well you can’t climb Kili now so we’ll have to go somewhere else”, the climb was abandoned. This translated into a 2 week trip to Ethiopia, which neither of us regret. Attempt 1 was an unmitigated failure. I failed to even book the trip and I failed to be fit enough to get out of bed! Obviously the goal was unattained but remained a goal….self indulgent waffle number 2.
December 2009 was to be the month when the talking was to end and the hiking would begin. My training regime was a little different to the last as I was doing more work in the gym aka the insipid and mind numbing machine called the Stepper. I was also keeping my BJJ training going although this was to end 1-2 months before the climb so any injuries could heal….self indulgent waffle number 3.
Kili is not a mountain you climb because of the scenery or because it’s the highest in the world. In fact I don’t know why you would climb it unless you’re stupid enough like me to say you will or just for the fact it’s there. I can’t even explain why an Aussie decided on Kilimanjaro as opposed to say some mountains in the Himalayas. I’ve never been too bright and deciding to climb Kili probably proves it….self indulgent waffle number 4.
Speed and Money
We had the absolute privilege, please insert huge amounts of sarcasm, to fly with Precision Air. The only thing precision about this airline is its ability to find Kilimanjaro airport. To give you an example let’s talk luggage. We all take it on holidays, we all expect it to get to the plane once we check it in and we all expect to have it arrive at the destination airport. If only Precision Air had the same idea. Although assured by the disinterested Customer ‘Service’ employee that our bags were on their way to our flight, upon arrival at Kilimanjaro airport it quickly became evident our bags decided on a different holiday to its owners. Along with a dozen other passengers we were left with bag envy. Yep, our bags decided the weather was too nice in Nairobi to warrant further travel. At the Kilimanjaro airport we filed our report of the missing bags and left for our 90 minute drive to Kilimanjaro Mtn Lodge. Paolo, our local tour coordinator/leader, greeted us warmly and explained he was going to organise for our bags to reach us. We hoped the bags would be on either of the next 2 flights but each time we met with Paolo it was not good news.
So here’s the deal with Precision Air. If the plane is full or they believe it’s reached the maximum weight limit or someone decides they want to go home, the loading of bags ceases without apparent question by any person with any semblance of common sense or decency. This results in a gathering of lonely bags on the tarmac watching forlornly as their owners disappear into the sky. The actual process by which bags are selected for travel is unknown to all but a few select members of the intelligentsia. Translated, your bags may or may not arrive….it’s a game of roulette where the winner isn’t your wallet or stress level.
This isn’t the first time our bags haven’t joined us at our destination however it’s the first time we’d have to pay for them to join us. You see ½ way between Kilimanjaro Airport and the Kilimanjaro Mountain Lodge is the Baggage Orphan Centre (BOC for short). It’s sort of like a foster home for bags but at this home you don’t get Madonna or Brangelina coming for a visit. From the BOC you must arrange for a taxi to collect the bags costing you around USD100 for the privilege. Our bags didn’t arrive together so had to pay double the cost! Yahoo.
Sitting at the lodge awaiting all your clothes and hiking gear was not the start we’d hoped, neither was having Paolo explain the intricacies of the bag delivery. To cut a long tedious story short, picture me annoyed and tired sitting at a dinner table being told our bags may or may not arrive in the next few days. If the bags don’t arrive you literally have to hire all of our clothes i.e. jocks, socks, jackets, shirts, etc.. I was trying to be rational and patient but having someone explain to you over dinner that you may not get any of your bags coupled with the restaurant staff persistently and constantly reaching over to take my yet to be finished food, pushed me over the edge. This translated into the entire restaurant, containing only 2 other tables apart from our group, hearing my 1 or 2 outbursts. Not the best way to introduce yourself to the rest of the group we had just met and if first impressions count, then I certainly made one.
So the day of the climb arrives and with our fingers crossed we head to reception around 7am to see if our estranged bags have made the journey. Our hopes lifted when we were told “yes we have 2 bags. One was already collected so we have one left”. *^&*&^^&% (insert thoughts as appropriate). My bag had arrived however Chris’s hadn’t. In a subtle and succinct manner, I told Paolo that if the bag didn’t arrive that neither of us would climb. I think you get the picture 🙂
At 9am we finally got some better news. Paolo advised us that Chris’s bag had finally decided to make the journey to Kili and would be arriving by late morning, albeit too late for us to leave with the group. The majority of the group left 1000 leaving Chris and myself to nervously wait for our 95 USD ‘baggage cab’ from the BOC. We watched the entrance like expectant parents and each time a car arrived our expectations grew then our hopes were dashed when a tourist arrived instead of a black kit bag. Our impatience paid off when finally the bag arrived. Finally! It was an exercise I’m incompetence, stupidity, inefficiency and reward (financial for the cabbies but not ours).
Onward and Upward
Paolo had done a great job of dealing with our emotional status and did his utmost to get us on our way. He arranged for a separate 4WD to transport us to the starting point and arranged for one of the 6 strong team of guides to wait for us. The road is under substantial construction so you get a 4WD massage as your driver deviates from the road to the shoulder to the tarmac. We bounced our way along the roads watching the world go by. Being a Sunday the villages seemed busy with most people dressed up as they headed to and fro from church. When we arrived at the gate and signed in, we were told the main group was only 30 minutes ahead and the guide of the main group was told to go slower than normal so we could catch up. Within and hour or so we caught up. Nice!
Poley poley means slowly slowly and this was the pace set by the lead guide. Like fight club, there are three rules to getting to the top (or at least increasing your chances of getting to the top). You must :
1) poley poley
2) drink 5 litres of water per day, 3 of which you carry and drink en-route to camp. The final 2 are via tea/coffee and soups.
3) positive attitude.
The first day only involved about 3-4 hours of easy walking. Scenery changed from the pine forests at the start to more shrubbery as we neared our camp. The first camp sort of set the scene, as far as campsites go, for the duration. Good quality tents, good food (for a trek) and not a piece of level ground to be found. The porters had done their utmost to find the best site possible but there’s only so much you can do.
As further proof of my age and deteriorating back, as soon as we arrived at camp I stretched to loosen up the back muscles and hamstrings only to have my back have the last laugh. As I stretched I heard and felt the muscles click. I tried to stand up but could only manage a hunch. I figured that was OK and if need be would climb Kili hunched over. Then in stroke of genius and blase attitude, I figured a night sleeping on uneven rocky ground with a huge 2inch thick air mattress separating my back from said rocks will be just what the doctor, or more accurately me, ordered. 🙂 Luckily in the morning I was rewarded with the back playing nicely. Whilst very sore, the pain around the spine abated so onward and upward, both my posture and the mountain.
Another day another altitude
Today was a long day totalling about 8miles in 10 hours. The scenery is marsh like and doesn’t change for the duration. For the first 1/2 of the day the path is clearly defined with gutters and lined with gravel. Frequently we came across workers hacking away at the brush and creating water run offs. This continued until we came to our lunch spot. This was our first lunch and we were treated to a hot meal. This was unlike any of the other hikes we’d done and very welcome.
After lunch we had to walk for another 4 hours or so until our camp. As soon as we arrived at 3300m and saw the site we knew we were in for trouble, not one of the tents was on flat ground. Coupled with the sloping ground were the rocks. Sleep was going to be welcomed but not assured. An omen was mini trenches dug around most of the tent. No sooner had we put our bags in the tent the rain started and it kept coming. The trenches were more like someone had drawn a line in the sand. I’m not sure it was actually a trench designed to channel water as it appeared to be more of an idea than anything practical. In fact it was probably a way to know where to pitch the tent. The trench did nothing to prevent the water from swamping our tent site but maybe it was better than nothing.
Here’s a tip for what not to take immediately before bed…doxycycline. I admit the error and laziness of not reading the the directions so blame no-one but myself. This translated into me sleeping for 1-2 hours if I was lucky, before having to escape the sleeping bag, adorn the wet trousers (from the climb not because I had a bladder malfunction), find the head torch, the rain jacket, the shoes and burst from the tent to get in touch with Mother Nature. By the 4th time any novelty factor had worn seriously thin and broken sleep wasn’t what the doctor ordered.
Now before you start thinking I’m complaining, just remember that I wasn’t the only one in the tent therefore each time said activities were taking place, Chris was jolted from her sleep. In my head I was thinking “beware the dragon”. The 3rd time elicited the comment “you OK”, the 4th “again?”…the 5th “I told you not to take Doxy at night! You wake me up each time!” Hmmm….note to idiot self, don’t take Doxy at night and more specifically, not right before sleeping. In the morning I checked all vital organs were still in place and hadn’t been surreptitiously removed by the dragon aka Chris. 🙂
Not exactly refreshed but mostly dry, we had a great welcome to the day as the entire camp was bathed in sunshine. We had amazing views of Tanzania plus Kili. Here though, the weather can change in the blink of an eye and to prove this, no sooner had we left camp the sky clouded over. The higher we went the colder it became, no surprise there I know, and for the rest of the day we had on our wet weather to contend with rain and light hail.
The more the day wore on the higher we climbed and the thinner the air and each breath became more labouring. An hour behind schedule we arrived at camp to have a hot lunch then relax for the 2 hour acclimatisation walk. Some of the scenery reminds you of a lunarscape as it’s very stark and the clouds prevent you from seeing any greenery below. From the highest point on the acclimatisation walk we got to see where we would be heading the next day. It didn’t look too daunting but also knew looks can be deceiving and nothing is taken for granted.
In the morning I was feeling the affects of the climb/lack of sleep/altitude (no idea if it was one or all) and breathing too heavy for my liking. Bring on the drugs, specifically diamox. At breakfast I popped one of those bad boys and it seemed to make things a little better. From camp you head up the rocks to a ridge that provides a great vantage point to see what’s in store for the next few hours. From there you descend and begin the march towards the next camp. The clouds prevented you for the most part from seeing your ultimate destination, Kibo Hut, however the gradient appears to the eye to be gradual and therefore you assume relatively non-taxing on the body. When the clouds do clear you can see Kibo Hut. It seems to dare you not to reach it. Between you and Kibo is a lunarscape dotted with larger rocks but generally gravel. It doesn’t seem to far away and you expect to be able to reach it within 2 hours or so….but the eyes do play tricks. Mainly due to my slow pace, we were behind schedule and we didn’t seem to be getting closer to Kibo. Every 15 minutes I’d ask how much further only to be told the same answer, a couple of hours. After the 4th time of being this it started to really put things into perspective i.e. I’m walking really slow.
The last section to Kibo Hut is steeper than the last 3 hours walking but it should be easy to climb. I was well and truly at the back of the pack and it was a case of 10 slow steps forward then stop to catch my breath. It was a very strange sensation to feel out of breath but feeling fit. Strange to be realise your body was overriding your mind. Strange to come to the realisation that you won’t be going to the summit (not that I would admit that to anyone at the time).
This camp is the registration point for the summit so before retiring to our tent we had to register. Luckily Chris filled in the form and I only had to put a squiggle on the register. My brain, small and unused as it is, wasn’t up to the task of such dexterity.
True to form, our tent and indeed most of the campsite is on a slope and rocks. You couldn’t lie in your sleeping bag without having it almost jettisoned from the tent.
Mainly due to my slow pace, we arrived at camp over 90 minutes behind schedule which translated into a late lunch around 3ish (I think). Immediately after lunch it is suggested to rest for the afternoon until dinner, in a whopping 3 hours time! Yep, at 1800 it was time to be roused from slumber, if you were fortunate to be able to sleep. Still full after lunch it was time to attempt digesting more food. For those not suffering from AMS, everyone except me, the required amount of food was had. I managed ½ a plate and had ignorant/arrogant (delete as appropriate) belief the Kilimanjaro wizard was going to reward my stubbornness and make me all better by midnight when we would summit. Covering all bases I also had some more Diamox. Now remember a few days ago I took Doxy late at night and the affect it had…well Diamox is the same. So instead of being able to rest and let the Kilimanjaro wizard weave its magic, I was up and down like a yoyo. At 4700 the lungs labour so even the body malfunctions are poley poley and AMS saps what little energy you have. ;-p
After managing a couple of hours restless sleep, it was summit food time. Belligerently I maintained I would attempt the summit. My body was saying differently but outwardly I was remaining defiant. Just when you thought I couldn’t look any worse, the pic to the right shows how the extra baggage (under my eyes) disproves this theory!
At dinner/breakfast (I’m not sure what you call at midnight meal) the AMS had grown worse and I couldn’t handle much food at all, about 2 mouthfuls to be honest. This wasn’t unnoticed by Chris so not only did I have to contend with AMS but also Chris’s concern. As we retreated the 20 feet to our tent I was finding some of the motor skills harder and harder. Stubbornly I donned all the gear and my pack only to find tying my boot laces required an exorbitant amount of effort. Chris was begging me to stay and in my head I knew this was the correct thing, not only for me but also Chris’s sanity. I pretended, unconvincingly, to be OK told Chris I was going to walk a little way and see how I felt. We all naturally formed a vague line to commence the ascent. At the head of the line was the head guide who was checking on the group. He came up to me and asked how I was doing. Although almost having lost my voice and feeling insanely weak, said I was doing OK and wanted to see how I far I could get. In a very polite and understanding voice, he said he didn’t think that was a good idea i.e. even if I said I was going up he would refuse to allow me. I agreed and much to Chris’s relief, wouldn’t be attempting the climb. Score check : Ian 0, Kili 2.
We said before the climb, that if one of us got sick, the other was to keep going. Chris was doing a brilliant job on this climb and fit enough to keep going. The decision not to attempt summit was a exceptionally easy one but not one I wanted to make. In darkness everyone was ready to go so I wearily kissed Chris and I hoped she would get to the top, I wanted the photos to post here! 🙂 I retreated to the tent for the most unusual sleep and weirdest dreams for the next 4-5 hours. The Diamox continued to wreak havoc on my bladder and for what seemed to be the norm, I couldn’t get a decent sleep.
The pic to the left shows Chris at Gillman’s Point. An amazing achievement.
I had hoped to have a picture of us atop Kili and in some ways that’s my biggest regret but I don’t regret the attempt nor the experience….self indulgent waffle number 5. 🙂