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Kilimanjaro Challenge - True Grit (some would say more grit than sense) A Report by Ruth Norris October 19th 2003 There follows an attempt to summarise an enormous experience into a shortish report. A task that fills me with apprehension but awareness that if I don’t attempt it at once lots will be lost. I have kept a diary but even so things are best aided from memory. The whole writing process is therapeutic I find. Overall climbing the highest mountain in Africa, the world’s highest freestanding mountain, is not something I want to do again. No, I did not enjoy it- it hurt too much. However I am really glad to have achieved it. It was what I expected in many ways. The pluses – we all worked very well as a team, looking out for each other, encouraging and not getting cross. The project from the point of view of one community helping another was a huge success as so many people were tangibly involved even though they were not on the mountain. The prayer support from the family of All Saints’, Dedworth was so strong that we all felt it, and it would be hard to imagine getting as far as we did without it. If this is an example of God’s kingdom on earth, I am very glad that I have the opportunity to be a part of it, and wish that more could experience the joy of belonging. For the eleven of us that eventually set off on the morning of Tuesday 7th October, there were 34 porters and guides. They work on a ratio of one to three with the chief guide as well. In our case this was a sixty-year-old Chagga called Faustino. He was excellent and led by example. No service to us was beneath him. It was his pleasure to serve – a real lesson to us all. There were five other guides - 52 year old John, 31 year old Martin, Khaniri, Thomas, and Josephate. We had all taken a Diamox tablet that morning on the advice of Desmond (http://www.maranguhotel.com/), who had briefed us about the approaching experiences the previous evening. This was to see if we reacted to it violently. Then we would not have this to cope with on top of everything else when we wanted some relief from nasty altitude-sickness symptoms up the mountain. He actually advised and provided tablets for all from day 1. It seemed many people left their leftover supplies with him after the climb, and he happily doled them out! To begin with we had to endure a three-hour ride on very rough mud roads round the mountain to the north to get to Rongai Gate from the Marangu hotel where we had left our excess baggage including the shampoo that we would not be able to use on the mountain. Our huge Mercedes vehicle took us through banana land where there were many. many people carrying huge bunches of green bananas on their heads to market. When we were eventually dropped at the head of the trail we were perturbed to see the porters all donning leggings and gaiters. Were we to be wading? Here we were in shorts. It seemed, on enquiry that the problem was dust, and sure enough the path proved very dry. We passed through an area of deforested land where some conifers had been planted. On this section of the walk we met some of the poorest and most raggedly dressed people we saw anywhere, even in the poor areas of the city. We were also surprised that so early on on the walk we should experience some of the effects of being at an altitude of 9000’. We were all feeling breathless. There was only about three and a half hours to walk on this the first day. After conifers we walked through the rainforest and then giant heathers. After crossing a stream, we emerged through the bushes to see our tents already erected. We were filthy because of the dust and a wash in the stream seemed the best idea. We were later told this was not a good idea as the stream served as water source for people down the mountain. Oooops! If fact the procedure was that the porters brought us a bowl of warm water between two of us each day at the end of the walk to wash off the worst of it. This, together with the similar bowl at 7am was one of the few bright spots that made the whole thing bearable. The three-course meal we were served was carbohydrate loaded but great. We were all sat in a mess tent at a table-clothed table on stools. As soon as it got dark it got cold. We were in bed soon after 8pm. This was the first of many nights where sleep seemed evasive. I was already well awake when the porters brought a bowl of warm water for a wash and a mug of tea. This is never served with milk but is surprisingly nice. We have been told about the importance of not letting ourselves become dehydrated. We must drink two and better to have five litres of water every day. Tea makes drinking water more palatable. I ate the porridge and toast but not the cooked breakfast. By 9.30am I was regretting it when my stomach started protesting loudly. We set off at 9am. The porters soon overtook us carrying the tents and cooking equipment and food. We reached First Cave at noon, and had lunch at Second Cave. These turned out to be volcanic lava flows where the softer material underneath had been hollowed out by erosion. We started to see helichrysums replacing the giant heathers. It was getting noticeably colder and even rained a bit in the afternoon. The eight and a half hour walk up was not over particularly steep slopes, but there was some scrambling involved, as the terrain was rough. More altitude sickness symptoms were experienced by members of the group – headaches and nausea. The rule is Poli Poli. Slowly, slowly. We know this and are grateful to Jackie for setting us a pace that is just that. John and I tried to sing to lift our spirits but it took an awful effort so we didn’t keep it up for long. Thursday was probably the best day on the mountain! It involved a morning walk and then a free afternoon. We had chosen to take an extra day so as to acclimatise better, and this was basically it. The walking was still over rough terraine but not quite such big boulders as the previous day. It was sunny and the views were wonderful. Giant groundsels and senecios, and white-necked ravens were now appearing. In places we were walking on bare rock, previous lava flows, where little vegetation could take hold. We arrived at Mawenzi Tarn where our camp was already set up at just after 1pm. It is a truly lovely location. Mawenzi is a spikey but lower peak on the Kilimanjaro Mountain, and was a previous vent. The tarn is a glacial lake but it is fast diminishing in size and looks green with algae – a mere shadow of its former glory. There is very little feeding it anymore as the icecaps are dwindling and the rainy season has yet to start. However it evaporates rapidly in the sunshine and we drank loads of it! The tents are pitched on the flat ground that was the previous lakebed. There are two loo huts here. We are getting used to them and as we get higher up they are less smelly. They are basically kiosks where there is a rectangular hole in the floor over a pit. The ones here are something else. We have had the no-lock ones (although ironically there is a lock on the outside), the lock with the twig was good; here we have no door! but what a view – loo with a view! So what to do with the free afternoon? - a time to dry the wet clothes perhaps?. We are sweating less but all clothes need to be retained for reuse. Peter erected a superb washing line using walking poles, elastic and guy ropes. Then a walk perhaps?! Four of us went over the ridge to investigate the rocks on the scree slope on the other side. We have been advised to Walk high and sleep low. In other words always walk higher up the mountain than where you intend to sleep. This minimises the overnight symptoms of altitude sickness and ensures maximum rest. This was not proved to be totally effective but at least we tried! The others sat in the sun on the rocks. as the guides and porters were. looking like so many reptiles. They wanted to play cards but we found that all packs had been left at the Marangu Hotel. 6.55pm and ready for bed! Its three layers tonight top and bottom, two pairs of socks and a hat! I have increased a layer per night so tomorrow will be four! I also have my metal water flask filled with hot water as a hot water bottle. The moon is just up over the spikey ridge of Mawenzi and it is nearly dark. The process of getting ready for bed has made me out of breath. I have a headache again but still don’t need paracetomol or Diamox. That proved to be the worst night’s sleep so far. I just lay there thinking – “There are three priorities here and sleeping is not one of them. They are keeping warm, trying to get comfortable (turning over is really difficult to accomplish), and breathing.” I had developed a cold so the latter was really difficult. I was all blocked up, so had to breathe through my mouth and then my lips got really dry so lip-salve was essential. I then got very thirsty. I ended up drinking warm water out of the hot water bottle in the night. Also my nose dripped incessantly so I had to place tissues under it. I soon noticed that they were bloodstained – must be something to do with differences in pressure up here. When I got up to visit the loo hut at 9.15pm there was already a frost on the tent. It was still there when we got up soon after 6am. At one point in the night it seemed the most constructive thing to do was to pray. It was the sort of prayer where you don’t find specific words but just dwell on people and situations before God in a meditative way. It’s easier than focused thinking. I started off with our group and gave thanks for each and every one of them, and asked for God’s help for particular problems members were experiencing. I eventually moved on to think about the Church family back home. Louise had suggested that we should pray for them just as they were praying for us. Immediately I amazed myself by breaking into almost uncontrollable sobbing. As the tears flowed I realised just how much their prayer backing meant to me. How lucky we were to have that support. This is what “Thy kingdom come” is all about. We have it at All Saints. God’s world where he is at the centre of everything and all are loving and supportive of each other for His sake. Why were there any people outside it? How much I want all to be a part of it and receive. We set off at 9.15am over the ridge and down into the Saddle on our way to Kibo at last. The landscape changed to being like a cinder trail. It was like walking on one big gravel drive, which wasn’t easy. There were a few large boulders but they didn’t give much protection when you wanted some privacy. We arrived at Kibo Hut where again our tents were ready for us at 3pm. Jackie had already decided that she would not be going up any higher. I was surprised to find myself sobbing again on the last part of the afternoon’s walk after she had told me this. It is very difficult to sob and walk at this altitude. It made my chest hurt. I told her that I thought of her as our Moses, who had led us all the way at just the right speed so we were now prepared for the next haul, but for whom it was not to be that she would enter the Promised Land i.e. the summit. She seemed much more cheerful having made her decision. There were about 100 people at Kibo. The hut had five dormitories and there were other tents apart from ours. The loos here had lights, (they have solar panels) as well as locks and a view from a window! I felt really awful. We were all feeling apprehensive and I was a bit irritable as a result. As I also felt a little nauseous I also took a Diamox. It did make me feel a little better quite soon. We really struggled to eat tea knowing that we needed the energy but not wanting to eat. It tasted horrible. The porters would not be going any further. It would just be our six guides who would be accompanying us up the mountain. John only just managed to get outside the tent after tea before he vomited. I told him that I had felt better after a Diamox and suggested that he have one. He did. We were all in bed by 6pm having made our preparations including covering the sleeping bags with the space blanket Jackie had given us each. I only slept one and a half hours and then just longed for 11pm to come. The Bible study notes I have been following were looking at the gospel of John. I found it very comforting as again I heard about Jesus’ promise to be with me and never leave me, protect me and guide me. The Diamox is a diuretic so a trip to the loo was needed by 10.30pm. There is no way you can hurry to do anything at this altitude, least of all run to the loo! At 11pm the guides told us that tea and biscuits awaited us in the mess tent. I had saved a flask of hot water and borrowed a bowl to enable me to have a quick wash so that I could safely put in my contact lenses. I already had 4 layers on so I only had to add a few more. I ended up with seven on top and four on my legs, three pairs of gloves and a hat. We set off at 11.45pm in the end. The moon was full and shining so brightly that we didn’t need the headlamps we all had on our heads. Even when the moon set at 5am and it got dark, I didn’t turn it on, but this was because my hands were too frozen to do it. By then my walking poles were extensions of my arms and to remove them and the gloves was a real performance that few would wait for. (I did do it once early on to take off a layer – my fleece. I had got too hot after all!) The only thing to do was to keep walking and climbing. There was no such thing as a short stop, just a standstill breather while you leaned on the poles for a minute. That was the rule for the whole of the 12 hours. I recalled when I was leaning forward and breathing so painfully on my poles that we had all watched Jackie doing this for the past two days. If she was suffering then as much as I was on the summit day, we can only admire her resilience and uncomplaining fortitude. We didn’t get back down to Kibo hut and stop until ten past twelve noon the next day, and then we only had an hour’s break before we were off again. This was an epic day. The guides were great. They knew what they were doing. They spaced themselves down the line and every so often they changed our positions according to progress being made and stress being observed. So the strongest ended up in front and the slowest at the back. Martin was watching me closely at first and obviously thought he would see more signs of wear early on than he did. Peter and I mark time together pretty well. We found ourselves in fourth and fifth position quite soon and stayed there to the top. We path was a series of zig-zags up a scree slope. It was not as cold as the previous night so the path was not frozen, so it was a case of two steps forward and one slide back It was hard work. There came the point when I just could not keep up with the men in front of me, and a gap opened up. Thomas had been behind Peter, but he had to come in front of me to lead the way as the path was not obvious (it was just scree and scree) and I was not thinking very clearly by now. It was very cold and my hands especially were freezing on the poles. We gathered from the guides shouts to one another that one lady had turned back. We later gathered that this was Karen. The tarn water had got to her and she was quite poorly. We just kept going up the zig-zags. A day before Jonathan had suggested that we should sing “Poli Poli Poli” instead of the hymn Holy, Holy, Holy. I suggested now that we all exercise our minds as we climb and compose words for a verse. No-one seemed to rise to that challenge but I did it :- Poli. Poli, Poli, climbing up the mountain One foot here and one foot there. That’s the way to go. Poli. Poli, Poli, further up the mountain You will surely make it if you take it slow. It kept my mind occupied for a while! Thomas was a real help now. If we stopped, he stopped. He even put Dextrose tablets into my mouth for me, not that I had the energy to suck them. They just sat there and melted slowly but at least they helped to keep my mouth lubricated. I gave up trying to wet my lips, instead concentrating on trying to keep me teeth damp. Little things took on giant proportions. We reached Hans Meyer Cave. Half way! It was 3.15am. It didn’t seem that we had been going for over three hours. From across the saddle we had observed the climb through binoculars. It seemed to me then that it fell into two stages – steep and then steeper! This was the beginning of the steeper! Peter had said he had counted 10 zig-zags so I counted. It turned out that my zig-zags were his zigs, so I counted another 10 and still they went on, and on, and on. It got dark as the moon set. It got lighter over Mawenzi. A red horizontal line developed into a red sun. It rose so quickly that it was soon too bright to look at. The scree changed to boulders so scrambling was involved. This was difficult with the poles. At last we reached the top - Gillman’s Point. It was 7am. The three men were there waiting for us and wanted to congratulate us but I was still two steps away and had to stop again for a breather before taking those last two steps. Hugs and emotion. Photos. A mug of tea from the guides. Jonathan teed off a golf ball into the crater (two km across), and then led us all in prayer of thanks. Jonathan Findler was so, so cold, and I remembered that I had the fleece in my bag so I got it out for him. He was so grateful and called me a life-saver! The ice fields were amazing, like slices of fresh coconut laid onto the dry mountain top, but so, so thick – 80ft, 100ft? We didn’t have long to speculate the guides wanted us off if we were to get to Uhuru. The three men went off with Faustino and Thomas again waited for us two. We went down into the crater first of all. The path was narrow and steep in places. It involved some scrambling too. How on earth do they do it with people in wheel chairs? One and a half hours on up and downing before we got to Uhuru Peak. As we topped the crater rim again the views to the left down the southern side of the mountain were stunning of the ice fields there. I felt awful. At one point I just stood and wretched and wretched. Nothing came up but I felt bad enough to have another Diamox. I knew I was getting dehydrated. We had been told to avoid that at all costs but it was difficult to get out the bottles. I really saw the value of having one of those camelback things at this point. Still the upside was that there was no need to call for loo stops! Not that I thought about that at the time. It was difficult to think about anything much but putting one foot in from of the other. I was vaguely aware of the geology. It was a geologist’s paradise up there. Rhomb porphory and lenticular lava meant that there were huge crystals visible in the rocks. At the top we were walking over green crystals of olivine or some such mineral I think. What is the other green one beginning with a? I spent hours racking my brain trying to dredge up the geology of 25 years ago. We met people coming back. They all looked in good shape. No-one else was going our way. Thomas had been carrying my day pack for me for a while. We eventually got to Uhuru at about 9am. The other three were waiting for us so we got some good photos together. There was a German there who eventually managed my camera for me! The sign was horizontal so had to be dragged into a vertical position for the photographs and then the wind caught it so it couldn’t be held for long. The views included four different ice masses, and Mount Meru, another volcano not too far away. It was no easier going back – another one and a half hours -and then straight down the scree. It was supposed to take two hours to get down from Gillman’s Point, and that is just about what it took us. If I had more energy left I would have enjoyed the scree-running more- 2000 foot scree runs are not easy to find! We were shattered. Also getting warmer as the sun rose and we were descending. The layers began to come off. The tents were still there. We could see the next days’ trekers’ porters arriving in camp from Mawenzi. So near and still so far. The poles were really useful as brakes. I must admit they were a big help all round but I still don’t know if I want any in the usual way for walking. This was not usual by any stretch of the imagination! The genuine congratulations and hand shakes from the guides – Faustino and John – made me feel good, and made me appreciate what I had achieved for the first time. I was going to accept all the praise I could get for ever after! I really felt I deserved it! It was 12.10. We had been on the go for more than 12 hours. We flopped. Everyone else had been back for hours, were well rested and feeling good. I just wanted to die! Faustino told us to change and then go for lunch. Change? I had never thought about doing that. I assumed I would remain in this lot for the rest of the day, but when the bowl of warm water came I was eager enough to rip it all off. Eventually I managed to focus out of myself enough to show a little interest in how others had done, and was delighted to hear that all had made it to the top except for Karen and Jackie. They had both already set off for Horombo. They were told that they should go so as to feel better all the sooner. Lunch was spaghetti. It tasted foul again, but Hey! I was free! I didn’t have to eat it! It was all over! I’d done it! Free from all the bans on coffee and alcohol. Free not to have to take umpteen pills. We left at 2pm to walk down to Horombo some six miles away. It took just over three hours. We felt surprisingly good considering. I guess the extra oxygen with every breath counted for more than we imagined. Karen and Jackie came to meet us, and hug us and congratulate us. Horombo is the biggest complex on Kili. It caters for those on their way up as well as those on the way down. There was a proper flushing toilet. There was a radio and electric light. Spring water was plentiful. Suddenly we seemed to be back in civilisation. I just wanted to sleep but there was tea at 5.30 and then dinner at 6.30pm. At last I could go to bed. It was still cold – a two layer night plus hat plus space blanket plus hotty. I was asleep while Peter was still phaffing round me. I have never been so tired. I slept solidly till 12.30 when I woke up hot! I undid the draw string on the neck of the sleeping bag and went back to sleep for another 4 hours. At 5am someone put on a radio loud and that was it! But I felt much rested. What a day! Breakfast included pancakes, which were memorable. We set off at 9am again. The day was not cold but the cloud kept rolling in so fleeces kept coming off and on. The scenery included giant senecios in abundance, some flowering. Generally it got greener and greener. A giant lobelia was spotted at last, so that sorted that argument. Faustino did not know his lobelia from his groundsell and had confused some of us. “What was that flying thing?” “A bird”, he had told us! The giant lobelia had purple flowers in every nook which birds with long beaks grazed on. We began to meet people coming up. What to say? They had decided to do it, but mustn’t lie. Best to encourage them – “Well done! You are doing well!” This day we were walking five and a half miles to Mandara where we had lunch in a hut, and then five more miles to Marangu Gate. The people climbing this route would take two days to walk coming up what we did down in one day. Lunch had been brought up from the Marangu Hotel for us and was fresh and really good. I had loads which I lived to regret! – soup and chicken salad. We were into lush rainforest by now. I appreciated some of it but also had to cope which being very ill. My attempts to dive into the forest in time failed and everyone just gave me a wide berth. I arrived at the gate very uncomfortable and got to know the loo there very well. Somehow we also took photos, some had celebratory beers, we signed in officially and it was here that Faustino signed our certificates although he didn’t give them to us yet. I was dreading the 20 min. vehicle ride back to the hotel but was delighted to see that they had laid on two for us – one was open top! I sat near the back flap but was actually ok. It was 5pm. I had completely forgotten that Pat, Liz and Pip would be there. We had been living the moment and not looking ahead. It was the only way to cope. I was in no state for pleasantries. They were there to greet us and their shock at our state was apparent. “You look different!” “How?” “Just different” - been pulled through a hedge backwards, tired, weak, filthy… ? It was all too much for me and I tears flowed again. They represented the world away from the mountain. I guess that was relief that it was all over, anyway reaction to events. I recalled that yet again this event was similar to childbirth – then I also went into it exhausted because I was so sure that the birth was imminent days before because of Braxton-Hicks contractions that I hadn’t slept properly for days. Then too I had terrible diarrhoea afterwards. I felt like that frightened animal that you pick up and it messes all over you. It had happened after Sarah was born. The nurse was never able to explain why I managed to make such a mess in the hospital loo. So for a while I called my afternoon – post-traumatic reaction. As more and more of the party fell victim over the next couple of days we began to suspect that that green water in the Tarn that we had all drunk was not purified sufficiently by the boiling process. Its ironic that we all had water purification tablets but had all believed Desmond so implicitly that when he said we could trust all the water the guides brought us to be clean we believed him. Any way we collected our valuables and left luggage and claimed that promised, and longed-for blissful bath. We had less time than we had been promised as the porters wanted to get off. There was the party and presentations yet. We all congregated on the lawn at the back of the Hotel grounds. There was a line of chairs for us 11 and all the porters and guides sat on the grass in front of us. We bought them beer – Kilimanjaro of course! The other three took the photos. Jonathan made a speech and Gerald interpreted. (In Tanzania their English is not as good as in Kenya.) We all shook hands with everyone. The Tanzanian handshake is a three-fold one which enables you to take longer over it and mean it more so I liked it. Faustino gave us our certificates. They sang for us. We gave them their tips and they eventually took their leave. It was a touching interlude. The five of us who made it to Uhuru Peak got Gold certificates, and those who made it to Gillman’s point got Silver ones. The gold ones say that we are 5317th and 5319th to have managed the top this year. Of the 25 000 who set out to try, this is a small proportion and I feel very proud. |