Kilimanjaro Adventure

I come from a family that's both large and small. I had many aunties and uncles, cousins and grandparents .... all in England. The Canadian branch of the family, however, consisted of two pairs of aunties and uncles, two pairs of cousins ... and us. "Us" consisted of Mom, Dad, me and my brother. As a consequence, we grew up as a close-knit group and did many things together. My brother and I were typical brothers. We had five years between us, so that meant that we fought, we argued, we disagreed, and we generally got on each other's nerves. But, if someone outside the family tried to take liberties with one of us, the other would rush to the defence of the beleaguered sibling. As we grew older, the rivalries stopped and we became best friends. One of the things Jeff and I shared was a great and active imagination. We would dream up some of the most bizarre and fun things to occupy our minds and define our play. One of our favourite things was to imagine that we w

A loooong day ! It was a tough wait at home on Monday morning: the hours crawled by, filled by going over, for the thousandth time, the itinerary, the gear, and what to expect. Drumming fingers, staring out the window, then a strange calm as departure time arrived. We picked up Mom and met Jeff, Marlene and Tristan at the airport. Fond farewells, some laughs, some photos, lots of tears and then .... GO TIME ! What followed was 20 hours of mind numbing monotonous hell. Two flights, a layover in Amsterdam's wonderfully efficient Schipol airport, and two hours of hot and crowded bureaucratic nonsense at Moshi airport. We found Peter, our driver, for the short drive to the lovely Bristol Cottages hotel in Moshi for a light meal, much needed shower and sleep. We are exhausted already. Surreal to think that this adventure is under way. Thirty years of dreaming, talking, planning and actual doing have come to this moment. We kept looking at each other, blinking, uncomprehending, remin

A good night's sleep followed by a nice breakfast does wonders for the soul. After breakfast, we met our guides, Elly and Stanford, and a driver called Frank. All are good guys, friendly and good-humoured, but completely serious about the job. A million questions about life in general and bowel movements in particular led to a growing sense of anxiety. This is going to be a test! We then walked around central Moshi. This is a "typical" backpacker town. Active, bustling, noisy and dusty, but also quite clean and friendly. The drivers here are active but not frantic as you would find in, say, India. We changed some money, took in the all-encompassing markets, had a good lunch and enjoyed the good vibe. But all the while, we had the sense that Elly and Stanford were watching, assessing, judging: they talked to each other constantly in Swahili, a cool language to listen to. At the end, we asked them how we did and they smiled and said "good." Well, I felt better a

Climbing day has finally arrived ! We drove from Moshi to Machame Gate ( about an hour's drive ) through the pastoral Tanzanian countryside. And then, through the clouds, we saw Kili, looming like a god in the heavens. Jeff and I could only stare, in the stark realization that we'd finally seen it. It whetted our appetite. Our arrival at the Gate was followed by hurry up and wait. We endured two hours of crazy frustration. Our support team arrived in a huge lumbering truck: seventeen young men poured out. We were amazed at the large number of men needed to support two climbers. These men greeted us with smiles and "jambo"s as we walked to the trail head. They would become our family for the next week. When we finally got going, the mountain asserted its dominance on us right away. Huffing and puffing, sweating, constant sucking on the water tube became our routine. Our first break came quickly, thank goodness, and, after that, we got second wind and began a magical

For me, the good night's sleep did not arrive. As a consequence, I hated today and, as I write these lines, am utterly spent. I'm so tired, I didn't perform well on the trail. I put my head down and endured, but enjoyed little of the spectacular landscape. We arrived at windswept Shira Camp around 1:30 pm, had lunch and tried to relax. I can't think clearly. I shall try to recount the experience more fully later. As for now, if I don't get some rest, I have severe doubts as to whether I'll be able to summit. I'm sure that's the exhaustion talking. I've never been this tired. Those were the words I wrote in my notebook on the evening of Day 5's climb. It sounded quite stark and depressing, didn't it? In retrospect, I chalk it all up to the fatigue. The day wasn't as bad as I had initially indicated, and, besides, there was much more bad stuff to come. But I was dealing with an exhaustion debt I have already written about and it was havin

I finally got a decent night's sleep: not a great sleep, but enough, even in the windswept barrens of Shira Camp. As a result, I felt really good in the morning. After a good breakfast, we set off at a steady uphill pace in bright sunshine. We walked through the heather zone into fields of lava rock, strangely reminiscent of Iceland. Our pace was so good, we started to pass other groups of climbers. Our spirits soared. We reached the Lava Tower around 1 pm. As its name implies, it is huge outcropping of lava rising to an impressive height in the sky. We had a delicious lunch there and took in the wonderful scenery. Elly told us that this location was the fabled "Western Breach", a well used route up to the summit. But the Breach was prone to rock slides and many people, including some Elly knew, lost their lives in past attempts. Eventually, the Tanzanian government closed the Breach and declared it a no-go zone. But Elly claimed that many still use it, without sanction

If you research the Kili climb, the phrase "The Barranco Wall" appears as a kind of gatekeeper to the secrets of Kilimanjaro. It is about 500 feet high ( not that big on this mountain ) but is in places a sheer wall of volcanic rock that involves hand-over-hand climbing. If you get through the Wall, you've really accomplished something. Others say "no big deal" or "exaggeration." I'm here to say that it is a big deal. In some spots, you have to hug the rock like a lover, pray to whatever god you suddenly believe in, don't look down, and trust your guide's instruction. When you get to the top of the Wall, you behold an incredible vista all around and a sense of elation and accomplishment: a type of "small summit" if you will. So, in our case, we took it on after a hearty breakfast and in brilliant sunshine. We hit the Wall right away and, right away, we felt the challenge. Both of us were terrified but we powered through. While

After yesterday's "terror" on the Barranco Wall, today's climb up to Barafu was relatively easy: I use the word "easy" very advisedly, for nothing is easy on this climb. But the distance was fairly manageable and the scenery was interesting. It was a lunar landscape of sand of varying shades of brown and strewn rock. Mercifully, the trek today was relatively short in duration and I arrived in Barafu Camp in good spirits and brimming with confidence. Barafu is at 15,000 feet and we encountered our first hint of ominous weather: cold winds and sleet. Elly told us that he doesn't trust this camp because of the sudden and changeable weather. He then started to prep us for the midnight assault on the summit. All of a sudden, my good feelings and optimism disappeared. This is for real: this is hard-core: this is either triumph or heartbreak. This is what we came for.

Amazingly, we slept through the four hour evening quite well. Then, the wake-up call with hot coffee, dressing in all our cold weather gear, a quick breakfast, a last minute check from Elly and Stanford, words of encouragement, and .... we were off. We were joined by Aristide and Goodliving, two of our porters: little did we know how much we were going to need them. It was pitch dark as we slowly made our way out of Barafu. As I looked ahead, I could see the fabled sight of the summit climb: a line of torches and headlamps picking their way on the zig-zag switchbacks, climbing their own personal stairway to heaven. Kibo Peak loomed like a ghost in the bright moonlight. It was bitterly cold, with a stark wind howling through our souls. I fell into third in line behind Stanford and Jeff. Elly, Aristide and Goodliving followed. For the first couple of hours, the pace was reasonably good ( pole, pole ) and the cold was manageable. But the path varied between loose scree and large rocks

We broke camp feeling much better and enjoyed a hearty final camp breakfast. The knowledge that we were descending seemed to buoy us. The weather was bright and pleasant and the walk was initially good. But again, after a couple of hours, fatigue set in and I became the problem. My feet have had enough and my knees, particularly my left knee, became very painful. What was supposed to be a four hour walk became six. Nobody really pays attention to the descent, but it is excruciatingly hard. Nevertheless, we made it down to Maweka Gate. It was here that the finality of the trek coming to a close hit home. After a rousing "Happy Birthday" for Lou ( nice touch, Elly ) and the traditional victory song, we said a sad farewell to our porters and support crew. These are fine people who took great care of us and, were it not for them, none of this would've been possible. We will never see them again. Back to the Bristol Cottages in Moshi for the hallowed hot shower and cold be

Up early, hearty last breakfast at Bristol Cottages and off to Kilimanjaro Airport. Our flight was a short hop on Coastal Aviation to the Lake Manyara airstrip. I don't like flights on small planes, so thank goodness our flight was short. It wasn't that bad really, but I was glad it was done. We met our driver/guide Aron who proved to be a genial, reliable and wonderfully knowledgeable guide. We set off on safari ! The safari was Jeff's idea: his reasoning was that, since we'd come all this way to Africa, we should do this most African thing. I reluctantly agreed. As the climb was drawing to a close, both of us began to wonder at the wisdom of this add-on. We were still tired, sore and injured and overwhelmed by the climb. We wanted to be home. The safari now seemed to be a silly nuisance. Nothing could be further from the truth. We spent a wonderful afternoon at the park at Lake Manyara, driving around in Aron's tripped out Land Cruiser. We saw amazing animal