Kilimanjaro

So since I have no internet on the mountain (though surprisingly there is cell phone signal), I have decided to blog each day and post one giantly-massive post when I get down. Here goes.

Day 1

I woke up this morning as though it were Christmas. My alarm was set for 8 but for some reason, my unique talent of the ability to loll in bed dozing for many hours late into the morning had evaded me. I popped up at 7 and had a long shower (until the hot water ran out) before scrambling to pack my bag and have breakfast. My lift to the office was late however, so I ended up waiting a while. When I eventually arrived I met my guide, Ezekiel, who in an instant surveyed my bag and indicated to me that I was not bringing enough. I was shocked, as I had thought that 'packing light' was going to be a challenge for me. Apparently I was TOO good. The funny thing was that after going through my entire giant backpack, I was only able to add one long-sleeve and an extra pair of PJs to the pile... It became quite evident that I had given too many of my clothes away in the village. Ezekiel was satisfied only after I ticked off all of the essential items on the list as he went through them. I met my cook and a few of the porters who would be coming with us – Barak (I call him Obama), and Anthony were the friendliest -  and we drove up to the starting gate. I had chosen to tackle the Machame route, which is apparently the 'Whiskey Route' because of its many challenges along the way. I wouldn't have wanted my Kili climb to be too easy. It is also known as the most scenic route so I was looking forward to some great shots of the landscape. The departure point was at 1800m ASL and while I waited for the porters to sort the gear into 20kg piles, I had my lunch. I nearly fell off my stool when I saw what it was: a veggie burger, fries, and bananas. Not really your typical hiking food. I devoured it just the same.

Finally we were off. We passed some porters eating lunch and got a laugh as we saw one chase off a monkey who had stolen someone's lunch out of their backpack. The walk was surprisingly easy at first. About 20 minutes in though, I felt the first signs of blisters – a result of not tying my boots tight enough. A quick re-adjustment and I silently hoped that the skin had not broken (no such luck – they will be a bit painful for the next few days). A slight inclined path, well carved out through lush moist rainforest wound us slowly upward toward Kili. My guide Ezekiel insisted that we go 'pole pole' (slowly) and when he commented that I was breathing a bit heavy, I confessed about my chest and throat infection. Though I am convinced the hike is slowly curing it, he discussed our strategy over the next few days to make sure that I reach the top.

The porters along the way carry an unbelievable amount of stuff, and it is not in a comfy MEC backpack either. Sacks are stuffed full and then either carried on their heads or balanced on their necks, resting on the backpack they are also carrying. There are strict rules on the mountain though, and the bags are weighed before departure and upon arrival to the first camp to ensure that no one carries over 20 kg. Regardless, I felt very sorry for each one as we passed those struggling with their loads. I felt slightly guilty of my own light pack (Ezekiel had insisted that a porter would carry all of my clothes, and I would only carry my raingear, camera, water and my lunch). There were a few steep parts to the path and we climbed slowly out of the rainforest to woodlands, with a view (finally!) of Kilimanjaro... though before too long, clouds had covered the entire mountain.

My boys set up at Machame camp while I guiltily ate a snack of popcorn and tea, and then doted on me cooking dinner and serving me at my picnic spot set up in my tent. Tomorrow I will insist on joining them as 4 days of this will get too lonely... though I will admit, being pampered is kinda nice.

Sleep. Big hike tomorrow that will determine my reaction to the altitude.

Day 2

I was woken up at 6.30am with a thermos of hot water for tea in my tent. As I waited for it to cool, I packed my bags and prepared for the day. It was soon followed by a delicious hot breakfast – eggs, porridge, fruit, toast and endless options of hot chocolate, tea, coffee, peanut butter, jam, blue band, etc... I could seriously get used to this life. By 8am, we were on the trail, Ezekiel leading through the short uphills that were tacked so pole pole that they hardly even seemed uphill. Whenever my breathing was heavy, he automatically adjusted the pace, though I tried to explain that my breathing is always heavy when I do slight activity because of my lungs... but still he insisted. I began to feel tingly feelings in my fingertips and I asked him if I was about to have a heart attack. Apparently it is a side effect from the altitude medication I started taking the night before... it slows down your heart-rate as the altitude tends to increase your pulse.

Along the way, I met a few fellow independent hikers, and we chatted away on the path until I got in trouble from Ezekiel for talking too much and was told that I was no longer allowed to speak because my breathing was too heavy. His strategy was that if my breathing was heavy, I was gasping for oxygen, and if there is a lack of oxygen, I am more likely to suffer from altitude sickness. So the prevention/ prescription was a slow pace, and lots (and lots) of maji (water). It turns out that one of my new friends had worked with Operation Groundswell (the same organization who has partnered with SID on many projects in Kenya Western Province) in Kiritu, a village right beside Mudete. He had actually seen me one day on a piki piki and we had waved to each other... freakishly small world sometimes! It was also along this walk that I discovered the magic of walking poles. With some of the pressure off of my legs, the uphill was undemanding (not to mention the pain it saved me from my sore blisters). During this day, we began the transition from short woodlands to alpine desert. Here, plants clump together in bushes for strength. We rose above the cloud-line, and over the ridge around our campsite was a fluffy floor of white bouncy-looking clouds. A true Carebear paradise.

When we arrived at Shira camp with Kili in view, I was instructed to have a cat-nap in the sunshine to which I gladly obliged. When I awoke, it was time for an extra acclimatization walk up 100 meters to the rangers post. Though it was nearly agonizing putting on my hiking boots again with my fabulous blisters, I handled the increased altitude with no problem and saw a gorgeous sunset with Kili glowing in the reflecting light. That evening, I had dinner with Eze, and my new friends stopped by my tent to see how my day's walk went. It was great company and much better than the night before... though I was definitely forced to eat a lot more and my stomach was overflowing with food. It had also cooled off quite a bit and we were starting to feel the effects of the altitude in the night air. Eze had the brilliant idea of filling up one of my empty water bottles with the hot tea water, and I snuggled warmly cuddling the hot water bottle all night.

Day 3

This was a cold morning. There was frost on the ground and my tent when I awoke shivering. I also realized that I had left the window open on my tent when I had my cat-nap the day before, so I was extra chilly. I had been desperately holding my pee the entire night so I had to get up and face the crisp air before quickly snuggling back in to my sleeping bag. Nothing like a warm tea brought to your tent by a smiling Anthony as soon as you awake to cheer you up though! I started to seriously worry about my warm clothes situation, and tried to probe Eze into exactly how cold it was going to be on top. I am also running out of non-smelly clothes – not that it matters though because my body is probably even smellier. No showers after sweating all day makes Erin a very stinky girl, though I am trying my best to clean with the bucket of warm water I receive every evening.

Once we had started off along the route, I realized that I'd forgotten to take my puffer, so pulled it out to take my preventative breaths. This triggered a severe lecture from Eze for not informing him that I had asthma as I tried to explain that I don't even really have asthma anymore, but only use it as prevention... he didn't believe me though and I am sure that he decreased his pace to be even more pole pole. The path wound around Kili as we headed through Alpine desert to the base of the mountain trail. Unfortunately the crisp air made the thought of sunscreen escape my mind and I got a nice pinki glow around the bottom half of my face that was not protected by the brim of my hat. Whoopsie. Lunch was at Lava Tower where we spent some time acclimatizing, and when I had no problems, we decided to do some bouldering up the tower to 4200m ASL. Some parts were actually very intense, and I was a bit scared without any climbing safety ropes, but Eze helped me through and I felt perfectly safe with my life in his hands. Again, I had no signs of altitude sickness at that height so I began to feel quite confident that I would be one of the lucky ones to escape this ailment.

Being alone on this hike has not yet been an issue for me. I have become friends with many of the porters (of other groups even) and we greet each other by name each time they pass by me (I don't know how they walk so fast carrying all that they do!). I am also picking up a lot more Kiswahili and am learning the slight differences between Kenyan and Tanzanian Kiswahili (apparently TZ is more polite). I also can't seem to get the Kili theme song that Eze taught me out of my head:

     Jambo, jambo bwana;
     Habari gani?, Misouri Sana.
     Wageni, mwakaribishwa;
     Kilimanjaro, hakuna matata.

When we had first set off for the mountain on the very first day, we stopped to buy snacks. Ezekiel informed me that I should have a few for in-between meals though he was going to make sure that there was never any air in my stomach. I thought he was half-kidding. Turns out he wasn't. I learned this as he practically forced huge meals into my stomach day after day. This lunch was no different. When he saw me struggling to finish the orange pieces, he declared that if I didn't, he wasn't sure I would make it to the top. Deep down I knew he was teasing but I had promised him that I would do whatever he said to get me to the summit and I didn't want to take any chances.

The rest of the walk was a smooth decline around the mountain to our camp in the Barranco valley. It became very misty as we were walking through clouds most of the way, though I was able to catch a glimpse of one of the many valley waterfalls at a scenic toilet stop (aka behind a giant rock). Once again, I am very grateful that my sister taught me how to pee in the bush as the number of pit stops I require seems to increase every day.

Our camp spot was purposefully located adjacent to a toilet, as requested by Ezekiel so that I would drink enough maji that night without worrying about having to go far to pee. Another huge dinner with delicious chapattis and snuggling with a hot water bottle. Sleep. Wake up to pee. See beautiful starry night and moonlit view of Kilimanjaro. Breathtaking.

Day 4

Each day along the hike becomes my new favourite day. Today we started the hike clambering up a steep rock edge, using all fours (and no poles) to hoist ourselves up along the trail It was a perfectly clear morning (though quite chilly as the sun hits the valley later in the morning) so we had a great view of what had been covered in clouds the day before. A rest stop at the top of the ridge provided an excellent opportunity for a photo of me 'flying', as Eze put it, and then we were on to our lunch spot where the rest of the crew had set up camp for a hot lunch. I got a bit nauseous from this but I think it was because I ate so much so fast instead of from the altitude.

The clouds had set in as we were eating and shortly after we moved on to the next section of the trail, it began to drizzle. This section seemed so long as we slowly climbed to 4800m ASL. We went excruciatingly slow but Eze was not taking any chances with me getting altitude sickness at this point in the trek. We climbed out of the alpine desert and were suddenly in slate-ville with fragile thin rocks covering the mountainside. The path was quite clear as it cut through fields of rocks, but it certainly made it much harder to find a spot to relieve my constantly full bladder. A few times I had to trust that Eze would keep his back turned, and he did his best to halt approaching porters to give me a few moments to hoist up my pants (though I think a few got lucky views of my stark white tush). It was a tiny bit difficult to keep motivated as the descended clouds completely covered Kili, but I kept my eyes on Eze's boots and followed him step-by-step. I was pleasantly surprised when I finally looked up and saw the erected tents at our base camp at Barafu.

Once there, although I was desperate for a nap, it was tea and then an early dinner served in my tent as I was so sleepy, wet, and cold. At 7:00pm, Tony came in to clear the dinner plates and played Eze's role of trying to get me to eat more pasta. I felt so sleepy that I could hardly keep my eyes open and just wanted dinner over with so that I could rest. Eze came in while I was having an after dinner tea to brief me about the plan for that night. While he was once again quizzing me on my equipment, and explaining the gear I should bring, I began to do the sleepy head-bob. He left me to sleep with strict instruction to drink as much as possible and gave me permission to pack my bag when he woke me at 11:30pm. At this point I calculated that I would have four hours to sleep before the big summit.

Of course, I couldn't sleep a wink. Partly in anticipation of the big climb, but also Eze explained that the altitude sometimes does not allow you to sleep. It seemed like a short few hours before I was being served tea again and instructed to get ready. I layered on the clothes – on the bottom: warm hiking socks, spandex shorts, long underwear, two pairs of cotton pyjama pants, stretchy workout pants and river pants. On the top: tank top, long underwear top, spandex long sleeve, hoodie, down-filled jacket, windbreaker, raincoat, neck warmer, toque, and mitts. I was hot. I was wearing pretty much everything I had brought on the hike so would have to deal with having no clean clothes later. I packed my water, a few snacks, and gingerly slid my sore and already weary feet into my boots for the final ascent.

Day 5

12:30am. In the cool, dark, silent night, we joined the stream of glowing, slowly bobbing headlamps as we prodded along pole pole up the trail. My legs were tired, but I maintained my strategy of following Eze's footsteps up the continuous gradient instead of looking up at how high the other lights were climbing.

About 2 hours in, I began to feel a slight headache. An increase in maji did not help the inevitable because of my (gasping) breaths, the altitude was officially affecting my CNS – which is the most dangerous effect of altitude sickness. As we climbed, despite the Advil I desperately swallowed, the pressure on my brain increased to the point where it was difficult to keep my eyes open. As I stopped to give myself a chance to catch my breath and do a mental pep-talk, some 10 hikers I had been playing leapfrog with over the past few days offered some encouraging words. We plugged on.

Eventually, we began to see a glow from the rising sun. I casually asked Eze if we were over half-way. We were, and though each step was wearier than the last, I was able to somehow continue going. Eventually I could shut off my headlamp and tried to spin around to see if I was yet missing the sunrise. Eze noted that he would let me know when to turn so that I didn't keep losing my balance as I careened. One switchback below Stella Point, it was time. A beautiful sunrise from the rooftop of Africa. I won't even attempt to describe it as I am not poetic enough to do it justice, but let me just say, it was a true "Mah Swenya" moment.

Once I had snapped a few photos, it was time to continue up to the point. I passed a few people obviously suffering much worse than I was and sadly (yes, I am a terrible person), it somehow gave me more motivation to keep going. The top of Stella Point at 5730m ASL was desperately windy and we only stayed a few moments to take some snapshots and enjoy the rewarding view. Then it was on to the final summit of Uhuru (Freedom) peak, so named when TZ gained their independence and the people carried up the flag of TZ to the peak of Kilimanjaro and planted it in the ground. Very symbolic.

Although from a distance this path appeared flat, the incline at this time felt very significant. There was no way I was going to let Kili win. Painfully, I slowly plodded along for the next 300 meters or so past giant glaciers, volcanic peaks and many happy bouncy tourists who I wanted to push over. When I finally arrived at Uhuru peak, I nearly cried. After a few moments rest, my body began to adjust to the surroundings and I found I could move around to take some photos, including the classic one with the peak of Africa signpost at 5895m ASL. The glaciers were pretty impressive and it was depressing to think about their depletion. A quick (cold) pee with a beautiful view and then I was ready to descend in an attempt to escape my head pain.

When we had returned to Stella Point, Ezekiel gave me a funny look and asked if I had 'skreed' before. I said no, but thought that it must be somewhat similar to 'skiing'... so off we went, sliding down skree on the side of the mountain, making for a fast but painful descent. My thighs and knees were burning by the end but it was a quick way to get down. About half way I began to feel nauseous but the only way to get down the mountain was to... well... go down the mountain, so we continued. My knees began to give way at the end of the skree and the start of a slippery rock path, and I had to brace one of them. Eze offered to carry me, but there was NO WAY I was being carried down Kilimanjaro. After gingerly descending which took a bit longer than we anticipated, we finally arrived at the camp. I had a big glass of juice before crawling in to have the best 1.5 hour nap of my life.

After a deep sleep, I awoke for a quick lunch and then we were off again, to camp at a lower spot. I was still very tired, as I had only a total of 5.5 hours of sleep in the last 30 hours. It was downhill, but my knees were still in great pain and I tentatively tread down the trail. Each step was tender and sometimes my feet would slide on the slippery sandy path, causing my knees to buckle in panic. I was very thankful to finally arrive at camp for our final night's rest. Dinner. Sleep.

Day 6

I awoke coughing and could hardly speak. Turns out the Kili cold had done some silent damage to my lungs. Tony brought me some tea which gave me back my voice, and I joined Eze for our final breakfast (during which he was STILL trying to make sure I was stuffed).

After some pictures with my crew, we headed down the mountain for the final descent. Again, it was painstakingly restrained as I wobbled on aching knees, but slowly and surely we made it down back to the woodland-scape and finally the rainforest with monkeys playing in the canopies above. I was passed by nearly everyone we'd been crisscrossing with for the past 5 days, including an 80 year old, and a man who'd had two knee replacements in the past 5 years... I am now wondering if it is a possibility for me? I'll have to look into it... sure would make going downhill a bit easier.

I was ecstatic when I reached the bottom and received my official 'I conquered Kilimanjaro' certificate. Woo!

The Aftermath

I am now in Zanzibar, chilling on a beautiful white sand beach while I nurse tender knees and swollen cankles. Today I began to see signs of my ankle bones once again and I look forward to the impending day when I will once again have a significant distinction between my ankle and my calf. My lungs are still healing... I think they are on the mend, though my throat infection has returned in the past few days. I am relaxing. Well deserved, I think. Ireland in a few days. I can't believe this summer is coming to an end already.

Sigh. Did I mention that I love Mount Kilimanjaro?