When we began creating an itinerary to travel around the world, one of the first places we marked on the map was Tanzania, home to Kilimanjaro, the roof of Africa. We always knew that climbing Africa's highest mountain would be part of our trip and now that it's done, the week long adventure to the top has exceeded all of our expectations.
After finishing an amazing safari with Jess, we traveled to Moshi, a small town that sits at the base of the mountain. Here we met Leon, our guide for Kili. Lesley and I were both a bit nervous before starting up the mountain, mostly because we had no idea what to expect. Since we've been traveling for the past 3 months out of our backpacks, we planned on renting most of the cold weather gear from the tour company. When we met with Leon, we asked him to help us choose what we would need and look through the clothes we planned to bring. However Leon didn't seem too concerned with that. He told us to relax and that we'd be fine. Not exactly the advice we were looking for but we quickly learned where his laid back attitude came from. We're pretty sure that Leon, (better known as Rasta to rest of the guides) is Kili's resident pot dealer.
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| while we were catching our breath at around 15,000 feet, Rasta stopped for a quick smoke break |
On the first day we took a shuttle to the Macheme Gate, (6,000 ft) the starting point of our trek up the mountain. Here we met the rest of our team, 8 porters. Two to carry our bags and six to carry the remaining gear consisting of tents, kitchen setup, and food (we opted out of the optional 9th porter, responsible for carrying a private toilet). We were a bit embarrassed to have so many people taking care of us and couldn't quite figure out why it took so many people to get us up the mountain. However once we reached the first camp we understood.
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| and it begins |
The trek began at an excruciatingly slow pace. Our guide made sure we never went faster than a crawl, telling us to "pole-pole", Swahili for slow down, when we got moving. For the remainder of the assent, we would continue to walk at this pace (imagine the speed a buffet line moves at an old folks home). It seemed a bit excessive at first but as we learned, anything faster at higher altitudes would quickly tire us out.
When we reached the first camp, Machame Camp (9,908 ft) we found our tent set up, bags inside, and a second larger tent for us to have dinner in. This is when we realized why it takes a team of eight porters to get us up the mountain. The staff take incredible care to ensure the only thing you need to worry about is walking. When we sat down for dinner, we were given a huge platter of food. Rasta told us to eat as much as we could. We would need every calorie and one of the first things that happens to people as they climb is a loss of appetite. Clearly, not a problem for Lesley and me. Even on summit night, we never had any leftovers for the crew to cleanup. Pretty sure we were the only guests to gain weight hiking up Kili.
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| dinner hut |
At the end of the first day, I had a nagging headache set in which would continue to bother me for the next couple days. Rasta told me to keep drinking water to stay hydrated and counter the effects of altitude. He insisted that I consume about 5 liters per day (or about 21, eight ounce glasses of water) . It wasn't long before I felt like a old man, insisting we stop every 45 minutes so I could pee (on one of our long walks, I had a chance to do the math and estimated that I watered a little over 100 different plants during our 7 days, so much for it being the dry season).
Day two started clear but it wasn't before long that the clouds enveloped us. What started as a light mist in the morning became a full on downpour by lunch. With half the day left, our guide abandoned his pole-pole pace and quickly got us to our next stop, Shira Camp (12,621 ft). Rasta told us that it hadn't rained at this altitude in months (lucky us). While we had the right gear to weather this storm and stay dry, many of the porters did not. When Frankie, one of our porters brought us dinner that night, he was wearing only a thin, long sleeved shirt and clearly very cold. We asked if he had a coat and he said that everything was wet from the rain. We were quick to give him a spare jacket we didn't need. While we were able to help him out for this one trip, it was clear that many of the porters don't have the means, or its simply not a priority on their budget, to buy the proper equipment. It's hard to watch guys carrying huge loads up the mountain wearing tennis shoes with holes is them. They make so little and deserve more considering they make the trip up about 20 times a year.
After dinner, the clouds and rain descended to a lower altitude, creating one of the most visually striking sunsets I've ever seen. And as the last rays of sunlight left Kilimanjaro, we were blessed with the clearest sky and the most amazing stars. The lack of atmosphere and light provides an unparalleled view of what sits above.
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| happy to see the clouds roll down the mountain |
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| sunset on Kili |
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| great stars |
On the morning of day 3, we woke to sunny skies and everyone had a chance to dry their clothes before starting our hike. We we very thankful to have clear sky's for the remainder of the trip. The idea of continuing on in wet clothes was not one we took pleasure in entertaining. As we gained altitude above the cloud layer, it gave us the impression that we were on an island, surround by a white sea of cotton balls. About midday we passed lava tower (15,229 ft), officially marking the highest altitude that Lesley or I had been to date. However we didn't figure this out until after the trip due to the inaccurate conversions from meters to feet we made in our heads. At the end of a long day of hiking, we reached our next stop, Barranco Camp (13,070 ft).
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| start of day three, Kili looming large in the background |
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| taking it all in |
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| on the way to lava tower, seen on the right |
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| happy to be above the clouds and out of the rain |
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| Barranco camp |
Day 4 started with the infamous breakfast wall. From below, it looked daunting; an endless parade of people hiking up what looked to be from our perspective, a wall. But step by step (pole-pole) we made it over and reached the top (13,913 ft). The rest of the day consisted of many ups and downs ending at Karanga Camp (13,254 ft).
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| breakfast wall |
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| I got a sunburn, not pleased to be wearing the floppy hat |
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| after the breakfast wall |
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| Karanga camp, resting above the clouds |
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| night time at Karanga camp, Moshi city lights in the back |
Day 5 was our shortest and got us to the last and highest camp, Barafu (15,353 ft). From here we would head to the summit. We arrived at Barafu in time for lunch and then took a short hike higher up the mountain to help acclimate. At this point, the effects of altitude or mountain sickness can begin to set in. Usually beginning with headache, nausea, and fatigue, altitude sickness can become much worse and leave you disoriented, confused, and unwilling to follow instructions (often the most dangerous symptom when climbing the worlds highest peaks). Neither Lesley or I got a prescription for Diamox, a drug which helps fight the symptoms of altitude sickness (probably a combination of wanting to be tough and frugal). Both of us felt good and we kept our fingers crossed that it would stay that way through the night. The final push to the summit starts in the dead of night. Our guide estimated that it would take us a about 6 hours to reach the summit, so the plan was to head out at midnight to reach the top for sunrise.
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| the last stop before the summit |
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| all smiles before summit night |
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| the guides were all impressed by how tough Lesley was. they started calling her dada mwanajeshi, Swahili for "sister soldier". |
After an early dinner, we got in our tents to try and get a few hours of sleep before the grand finale. Lesley was quick to start snoring, as sleep has always come easy to her. But my imagination of what the next 12 hours would be like kept me wired. I gave up trying to sleep, knowing that it was futile, and waited for the knock on the tent meaning it was time. At 11:30, we got up, put on just about every layer of clothing we had in our bags, dawned the headlamps, and began.
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| prepping for a long night |
From Barafu camp, the trail up to Stella point (18,871 ft) is only 2.1 miles long, but gains 3,520 feet in altitude in a continuous climb. Not once does the trail flatten. While no one races up, the fastest groups take about 5 hours to reach Stella, the not so fast can be upwards of 9 hours, or not at all. The altitude, sub-zero temperatures, and steep terrain combined to make this the most difficult section of trail I have ever climbed. And to top it off, it's all done in complete darkness! While the image of little lights bobbing and weaving up the mountain is quite striking, it plays cruel ticks on your mind. Since it's dark, there is no ridge in sight and the only light provided is from the stars above and your fellow hikers headlamps. Higher up when dirt and rock give way to snow and ice, the light from the forward most hikers makes it look as if they are almost at the summit. I fell pray to this illusion several times, thinking we were almost at Stella point, only to be told we were several hours away.
The all-nighter got kicked off with an ominous start. After only 5 minutes, we passed a women on all fours heaving up last nights dinner. Lesley and I both exchanged a look of "what did we get ourselves into?". Over the next couple hours we got stuck behind slower groups and only got a chance to pass when they stopped to rest. However unlike every other day, neither Lesley or I were complaining. Our slow pace gave Lesley the chance to rest her legs as they were beginning to fatigue and me the chance to look up and admire the night sky. At this altitude was the best stargazing I'd ever seen and my eyes were pointed skyward every spare moment I had. In all, I saw about two dozen shooting stars. Turns out I was more lucky then I had known. While we were up there, the Perseid Meteor shower was in progress. When no meteors were falling, I made up my own constellations to keep myself busy (falling Christmas tree, upside down mountain range, broken umbrella; I don't think my version has much on the Greeks').
After about 3 hours of nonstop foot shuffling, Lesley and I both fell victim to the tricks that the lights play. We figured we were close, another hour, maybe 2. When we asked Rasta he put our fantasies to rest and told us 3, maybe 4 more hours. Shit, this was going to be much harder then we expected.
Disheartened, things only got worse for us. The muscles in Lesley's legs were spent and we needed to rest every couple minutes to let them recharge. For me, the battle was more mental. About three quarters of the way to Stella point (~18,000 ft) some minor symptoms of altitude sickness set it. In addition to the headache and nausea (nothing I wasn't unused to by now) I began feeling very spacey, almost goofy. I felt as if my mind and body were disconnected. I wanted to stop and snuggle with the nearest boulder I could find. It took all my mental and physical strength to simply follow Lesley's footsteps in front of me. If she had walked over the edge of a cliff, I would have followed her without a second thought.
As the first rays of sunlight battled against the darkness, we began to see how close we were to reaching Stella point. And after about 6 hours of walking, we finally made it just as the sun was coming up.
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| almost to Stella point! |
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| sunrise at Stella. Happy (and cold) girl |
From Stella, the hike to the summit seemed like a walk in the park. Only another hour of relatively flat terrain and we were there, Uhuru peak (19,341 ft). After we shed a few tears and took the requisite photos in front of the summit signs, we began to head down. With gravity on our side, the walk down only took us a couple hours and after a loooong day, we got to rest. Best nap ever.
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| we made it! |
All in all, it was an absolutely amazing experience, and our struggle to the top only made it that much better. We both are thankful to have had such amazing guides and staff to get us up the mountain. Now that it's over, we're both happy to trade out the hiking shoes for the flip flops.
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| us and the crew |
