I didn’t start out thinking this would be a 4-part “series”, in fact I kept my journal with only one part in mind... what happens is I read, and re-read, and add pics, and read again, and eventually I decide that these divisions are necessary to keep the reader focused while giving us something to look forward to. Kilimanjaro was pretty freaking amazing, so I guess a 4-part blog is just my little tribute to the experience.
Day 6
Today was a short day so they allowed us to sleep in a little longer, “Bed Tea” was at 7:30am. The "Swahili Alarm Clock" went off on cue just before robbing me of my last few minutes of sleep - I would not miss that part, waking up to any other language but your own is never a pleasant experience.
Water had become scarce, the stream we crossed the day before was the last source so any water from here out would need to be carried up that hill and then on to the next camp... washy-washy was cancelled until Millenium, the evening of our summit attempt hopefully 34 hours later.
This was of course fine by me, my cleansing was from the earth, the dust ever present as we worked our way east around the southern edge of the crater kept me pure and connected. Gone was the bothered feeling when noticing my filthy fingernails, and my sense of smell was tuned in to my surroundings. Our aroma was a group experience since we all had the same diet, and same cleansing opportunities. One rule of the mountain that was unspoken: Flatulence is good, it means the body is working as it should, and as disgusting as it might sound is an important part of high altitude living.
We worked our way east, the final push in that direction and it was a consistent uphill the entire way. Pole-pole was a beautiful thing, my headache had disappeared with last nights moon, and I was feeling surprisingly strong. I had brought too many snacks which was really working out since their same food had become more of an annoyance than a convenience. We continued on, taking small breaks allowing the group to catch up and giving us an opportunity to snap some shots of the amazing, alien landscape we were walking through. It was a wasteland, absolutely no vegetation a true definition of the word barren.
We could see the next camp, our “base camp” the Barafu Hut (15,092 ft.) atop the cliffs ahead, meaning one more grueling uphill till we could sign-in at the ranger hut and drop our packs for the day. We could see the porters working their way onto the ridge and then disappear, our hope was that our tents weren't much further beyond that point... after working our way up the switchbacks for 45 minutes we were rewarded, with more uphill! Apparently the hut to sign-in was at the top of camp, even though we could see our tents setup well below. Onward and upward as others strolled past on the same trail having just descended from the summit... this gave us the last boost of energy we needed, after all of our walking we had finally crossed the summit path!
We signed the book and made our way to our area. The entire camp was at a significant angle so maneuvering from tent to tent was a challenge, once I found my home I relaxed until lunch and our most serious briefing yet._01.jpg)
All of the guides gathered in the mess tent, everyone turned towards center tent where Passian went over the five-step plan:
(1) Rest all afternoon
(2) Dinner at 5:30p
(3) More Rest
(4) Up at 10:30p for “Breakfast”
(5) Depart Promptly at 11:30pm up the summit trail to Stella Point (18,816 ft)
Sounded easy enough, I snapped a pic of our tents with Mawenzi (16,893 ft) in the background as I drifted into “sleep” mode mentally preparing for the next 24 hours.
I had already put on half of my layers before the nap, waking up just meant finishing that job, verifying the tent was safe to be left behind & my pack was ready. Layers were easy, I’d put more than enough thought into it over the past few days and had just concluded my puffy jacket would be for the summit, the guides had warned me that the real cold wouldn’t happen till just before the sun came up. Tent Safety? A sad but true fact, we were warned that looters were present. We packed our duffels and shoved them to one side so our porters could sleep in our tents while we were on the mountain. Finally, make sure my zippers are all zipped... and my water was full, laces tight, energy snacks easy to catch hold of, pockets easily accessed, headlamp on, CHECK.
I met everyone in the mess tent, porridge again, I attempted a bit while slamming hot water as fast as my throat could take it. Cocoa, too much sugar; coffee & tea, too much caffeine, hot water was my wake-up warm-up beverage of choice as we all prepped for a 4,249 foot ascent into the darkness.
We congregated outside testing our layers deciding what was too much or not enough for the next seven hours of walking, in the distance we could make out several other parties had begun their headlamps evidence that we weren’t the only group climbing Kili tonight. Our fearless leader was ready to go, he opted to go without a pack as did some of the other guides just in case they need to lend a hand to assist one of our party with their ascent.
That line up the mountain was fascinating, I wish I had attempted to take a pic, it stretched as far as we could see up into the darkness reminiscent of the night-lights on a ski slope.
I noticed the moon to the west, we began our ascent & shortly thereafter that moon disappeared behind the ridge we would be following all night... it was 11:30pm, the stars were providing enough light to follow the leader, I switched my headlamp to “red”, there was no need for more than that while my senses were so finely tuned to the atmosphere.
It felt like no time had passed, but it must have been at least 45 minutes, we were taking a break already. We kept going, up & up, another hour and we were in the Kosovo Campsite (15,955 ft), a higher base camp, an even more desolate place than Barafu. Most parties bypassed this camp because it was so far away from water. From here I knew we would be exposed, up until now is was just hiking on a fairly wide ridge. I suspect part of the reason we make this ascent at night is to avoid the amazing first hand views as we parallel the southern ice fields, our path was now onto a rocky ridge and would switchback the rest of our night.
We kept going, switch-backing back and forth higher on the mountain, each turn showing me some scary drops if my footing were to slip. If we could see there’d be a gentle but slippery scree-field on our right, and a drop to our left. I’d studied the book, and the map, the worst part was I was completely aware of exactly how far we had to go and we still had several hours before Stella Point.
Summiting at sunrise has many purposes, the main one I’m guessing is clarity. In the Winter the only time they can kinda guarantee visibility from the top is early morning, after studying the mountain for the past 6 days that was obvious... my question for Passian as we continued pole-pole up the trail was “What have you seen from the top?” His reply, “Nothing really. The tops of a few other mountains, Meru being the most common & once in a while, Mount Kenya. But never the ocean, or any cities, just the glaciers, clouds & sky.” I’m not sure what I was expecting the roof of Africa to look like but that sounded right, I’ve never been to the highest point on any continent and it dawned on me that seeing, this time, will be outweighed by BEING.
We continued up, I was watching stars & constellations rise to our east... was that Jupiter? I attempted to ask but no words came out, just deep exhales. The return glance I received from Hashim was understanding, perhaps now was not the time to ponder the heavens. The line of headlamps above us kept disappearing giving the impression that we were reaching the summit, but a few hundred feet later we'd crest a small rise and the extraordinary line would reappear confirming what the time was constantly reminding us... we still had several hours to go. More time passed and it was starting to get colder, this was a sign of progress so as uncomfortable as it made me that didn't get me down... the time was approaching 5am. Was that a star or a headlamp? It moved, so it had to be a headlamp. The horizon above kept changing, I'd stare longingly at points of light wishing they'd stay still, and then they'd shift. The only difference between those headlamps & stars was the movement! I turned my glance further upward to regain perspective and as if on cue a shooting star blazed across the sky... now that's just some higher power fuckin' with me, I focused my concentration on the eastern sky, was it turning blue? I started to get excited, but physically there was no where for that energy to go... I was stuck in the middle of a very slow moving line and running past the leader was not an option. I began cursing; cursing my friend for dragging me up this godforsaken rock half way around the world; cursing our guide for not telling us exactly how much further every ten seconds when curiosity struck; cursing myself for getting into a situation where the circumstances felt so out of my control... I noticed a ridge to our right, there were tiny points of light moving on it, I'd been waiting for this, our trail merged with the Mawenzi Route near the crest and we were seeing those climbers! The sky was turning blue to the east, sunrise WAS getting close, as I looked above the lights on the horizon were no longer moving, there were only stars... this was it! My pace quickened and sure enough the wind picked up as we crested the crater rim, we had reached Stella Point (18,816 ft), the guides motioned us to some rocks where they served us tea and I was able to dig my puffy jacket from my bag.
"Stella-Tea", a little weird but welcome since my water tube had frozen... these peeps pass out tea for everything, a classy move if I was in the mood to appreciate it. I'd actually given up on eating, drinking & peeing several hours ago completely focused on the goal, and we were there. The sun started to rise, light bathed the crater and the guides got real close asking how we were feeling looking for signs of dizziness or nausea - it had been ten minutes since we'd stopped walking, I'd drank my tea and felt like a million bucks - it was time to press on, the colors were just starting to reflect off the glaciers and the summit was a mere 45 minute walk away! My camera would not power on, it was frozen, so my challenge was juggling the trekking poles, backpack, gloves, camera and batteries - the walking was easy, I just kept telling myself "Don't fall off the mountain as you gape at the surroundings." I swapped batteries with the one that had been living in my glove... success!
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The sunrise was spectacular, and the reflection off the glacier to our south was unreal.
We passed climbers coming from the summit some happy and some obviously wiped out, I congratulated everyone and high-fived whoever made eye contact in time to receive. It didn't matter what language they spoke, all I knew was on my return from the top a random high-five would be welcomed after an accomplishment so many days in the making.
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The ultimate picture was in front of me: Mount Kilimanjaro's shadow on top of the western clouds, with Mount Meru poking through at the tip.
We had arrived, I dropped my gear and fell to my knees taking in the full 360 degree view from Uhuru Peak at 19,341 feet - and it was awesome. Our guides pressed us to get pictures with the sign, apparently this area becomes jammed with climbers and we'd arrived during a rare open window of opportunity... Passian had waited 45 minutes for his last summit group pic with the sign, we obliged and started the procession of posing.
The individual groups were first, and then our entire group, the Shira 8-Day Dream Team took their places while the guides sorted out 10 cameras and tried to keep everyone's focus in this thin air. We had made it, and after maybe 15 minutes the guides herded us back down the trail.
Additionally I’ve done my best to stay positive throughout this writing. I’ve been honest about my headaches and attempted to keep the whining to a minimum. This final chapter might feel different as I’m no longer holding back: We’re six days in, I’m sore, tired and a little fed up... although I understand the extra work necessary to assist us in achieving the summit goal, I don’t have to like it. I’ve never spent this long in a tent, and I’ve absolutely never allowed myself to be told what to do on so many levels... when & where to eat, sleep & walk... the entire experience was not conducive to my control freak nature. I was starting to get annoyed with our guides even though I knew they had nothing but our best interests in mind.
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| Reflection |
Today was a short day so they allowed us to sleep in a little longer, “Bed Tea” was at 7:30am. The "Swahili Alarm Clock" went off on cue just before robbing me of my last few minutes of sleep - I would not miss that part, waking up to any other language but your own is never a pleasant experience.
Water had become scarce, the stream we crossed the day before was the last source so any water from here out would need to be carried up that hill and then on to the next camp... washy-washy was cancelled until Millenium, the evening of our summit attempt hopefully 34 hours later.
This was of course fine by me, my cleansing was from the earth, the dust ever present as we worked our way east around the southern edge of the crater kept me pure and connected. Gone was the bothered feeling when noticing my filthy fingernails, and my sense of smell was tuned in to my surroundings. Our aroma was a group experience since we all had the same diet, and same cleansing opportunities. One rule of the mountain that was unspoken: Flatulence is good, it means the body is working as it should, and as disgusting as it might sound is an important part of high altitude living.
We worked our way east, the final push in that direction and it was a consistent uphill the entire way. Pole-pole was a beautiful thing, my headache had disappeared with last nights moon, and I was feeling surprisingly strong. I had brought too many snacks which was really working out since their same food had become more of an annoyance than a convenience. We continued on, taking small breaks allowing the group to catch up and giving us an opportunity to snap some shots of the amazing, alien landscape we were walking through. It was a wasteland, absolutely no vegetation a true definition of the word barren.
We could see the next camp, our “base camp” the Barafu Hut (15,092 ft.) atop the cliffs ahead, meaning one more grueling uphill till we could sign-in at the ranger hut and drop our packs for the day. We could see the porters working their way onto the ridge and then disappear, our hope was that our tents weren't much further beyond that point... after working our way up the switchbacks for 45 minutes we were rewarded, with more uphill! Apparently the hut to sign-in was at the top of camp, even though we could see our tents setup well below. Onward and upward as others strolled past on the same trail having just descended from the summit... this gave us the last boost of energy we needed, after all of our walking we had finally crossed the summit path!
We signed the book and made our way to our area. The entire camp was at a significant angle so maneuvering from tent to tent was a challenge, once I found my home I relaxed until lunch and our most serious briefing yet.
_01.jpg)
All of the guides gathered in the mess tent, everyone turned towards center tent where Passian went over the five-step plan:
(1) Rest all afternoon
(2) Dinner at 5:30p
(3) More Rest
(4) Up at 10:30p for “Breakfast”
(5) Depart Promptly at 11:30pm up the summit trail to Stella Point (18,816 ft)
Sounded easy enough, I snapped a pic of our tents with Mawenzi (16,893 ft) in the background as I drifted into “sleep” mode mentally preparing for the next 24 hours.
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| Mawenzi |
I had already put on half of my layers before the nap, waking up just meant finishing that job, verifying the tent was safe to be left behind & my pack was ready. Layers were easy, I’d put more than enough thought into it over the past few days and had just concluded my puffy jacket would be for the summit, the guides had warned me that the real cold wouldn’t happen till just before the sun came up. Tent Safety? A sad but true fact, we were warned that looters were present. We packed our duffels and shoved them to one side so our porters could sleep in our tents while we were on the mountain. Finally, make sure my zippers are all zipped... and my water was full, laces tight, energy snacks easy to catch hold of, pockets easily accessed, headlamp on, CHECK.
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| Breakfast before Summit |
I met everyone in the mess tent, porridge again, I attempted a bit while slamming hot water as fast as my throat could take it. Cocoa, too much sugar; coffee & tea, too much caffeine, hot water was my wake-up warm-up beverage of choice as we all prepped for a 4,249 foot ascent into the darkness.
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| Passian |
That line up the mountain was fascinating, I wish I had attempted to take a pic, it stretched as far as we could see up into the darkness reminiscent of the night-lights on a ski slope.
It felt like no time had passed, but it must have been at least 45 minutes, we were taking a break already. We kept going, up & up, another hour and we were in the Kosovo Campsite (15,955 ft), a higher base camp, an even more desolate place than Barafu. Most parties bypassed this camp because it was so far away from water. From here I knew we would be exposed, up until now is was just hiking on a fairly wide ridge. I suspect part of the reason we make this ascent at night is to avoid the amazing first hand views as we parallel the southern ice fields, our path was now onto a rocky ridge and would switchback the rest of our night.
We kept going, switch-backing back and forth higher on the mountain, each turn showing me some scary drops if my footing were to slip. If we could see there’d be a gentle but slippery scree-field on our right, and a drop to our left. I’d studied the book, and the map, the worst part was I was completely aware of exactly how far we had to go and we still had several hours before Stella Point.
Summiting at sunrise has many purposes, the main one I’m guessing is clarity. In the Winter the only time they can kinda guarantee visibility from the top is early morning, after studying the mountain for the past 6 days that was obvious... my question for Passian as we continued pole-pole up the trail was “What have you seen from the top?” His reply, “Nothing really. The tops of a few other mountains, Meru being the most common & once in a while, Mount Kenya. But never the ocean, or any cities, just the glaciers, clouds & sky.” I’m not sure what I was expecting the roof of Africa to look like but that sounded right, I’ve never been to the highest point on any continent and it dawned on me that seeing, this time, will be outweighed by BEING.
We continued up, I was watching stars & constellations rise to our east... was that Jupiter? I attempted to ask but no words came out, just deep exhales. The return glance I received from Hashim was understanding, perhaps now was not the time to ponder the heavens. The line of headlamps above us kept disappearing giving the impression that we were reaching the summit, but a few hundred feet later we'd crest a small rise and the extraordinary line would reappear confirming what the time was constantly reminding us... we still had several hours to go. More time passed and it was starting to get colder, this was a sign of progress so as uncomfortable as it made me that didn't get me down... the time was approaching 5am. Was that a star or a headlamp? It moved, so it had to be a headlamp. The horizon above kept changing, I'd stare longingly at points of light wishing they'd stay still, and then they'd shift. The only difference between those headlamps & stars was the movement! I turned my glance further upward to regain perspective and as if on cue a shooting star blazed across the sky... now that's just some higher power fuckin' with me, I focused my concentration on the eastern sky, was it turning blue? I started to get excited, but physically there was no where for that energy to go... I was stuck in the middle of a very slow moving line and running past the leader was not an option. I began cursing; cursing my friend for dragging me up this godforsaken rock half way around the world; cursing our guide for not telling us exactly how much further every ten seconds when curiosity struck; cursing myself for getting into a situation where the circumstances felt so out of my control... I noticed a ridge to our right, there were tiny points of light moving on it, I'd been waiting for this, our trail merged with the Mawenzi Route near the crest and we were seeing those climbers! The sky was turning blue to the east, sunrise WAS getting close, as I looked above the lights on the horizon were no longer moving, there were only stars... this was it! My pace quickened and sure enough the wind picked up as we crested the crater rim, we had reached Stella Point (18,816 ft), the guides motioned us to some rocks where they served us tea and I was able to dig my puffy jacket from my bag.
"Stella-Tea", a little weird but welcome since my water tube had frozen... these peeps pass out tea for everything, a classy move if I was in the mood to appreciate it. I'd actually given up on eating, drinking & peeing several hours ago completely focused on the goal, and we were there. The sun started to rise, light bathed the crater and the guides got real close asking how we were feeling looking for signs of dizziness or nausea - it had been ten minutes since we'd stopped walking, I'd drank my tea and felt like a million bucks - it was time to press on, the colors were just starting to reflect off the glaciers and the summit was a mere 45 minute walk away! My camera would not power on, it was frozen, so my challenge was juggling the trekking poles, backpack, gloves, camera and batteries - the walking was easy, I just kept telling myself "Don't fall off the mountain as you gape at the surroundings." I swapped batteries with the one that had been living in my glove... success!
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The sunrise was spectacular, and the reflection off the glacier to our south was unreal.
We passed climbers coming from the summit some happy and some obviously wiped out, I congratulated everyone and high-fived whoever made eye contact in time to receive. It didn't matter what language they spoke, all I knew was on my return from the top a random high-five would be welcomed after an accomplishment so many days in the making..JPG)
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| This Phish sticker was already here :) |
WTF, I had just spent days working towards this goal and now they had the nerve to usher me off like some commoner who had just toured the Louvre? I was not happy, I feigned blistered feet and took my merry old time strolling down the trail. I'm sure they have their reasons; like altitude sickness, descent time/trouble, possibly excessive UV exposure or sunstroke... I'm guessing the average climber is so elated once they reach the top they don't notice the onset of anything. This could make for even more difficult descent and the guides have been trained to "encourage" us in that direction since there was still a good ten hours left in our day. But I was different damnit, a quick check of my co-climbers and I realized I was the only one disappointed. "Just go with it" was the response I read, I still found reasons to dawdle milking every second of my first time above 19 thousand feet.
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The trail down from Stella was a crazy scree field, I had experience with this but wondered who else had because it was exhausting. We'd just climbed a lot of vertical and were now working through foot deep gravel... I could feel the Oxygen returning to my lungs and my desire to be through this challenge outweighed the pain in my toes, this descent was steep! It was a different way than we'd taken up, so many people climb this trail that it's one way and this scree field, although slippery, has proven to be the fastest route back. I guess it's easier to slide people down a wide rock-slide than ask them to maneuver a narrow exposed trail. I'll bet the time factor outweighs the benefits of solid ground. It took about an hour for our 1st goal of the descent to finally come into view. (our sleeping pads in our tents back at Barafu) There was still quite a ways to go down the scree field and our group was spread out over several miles, everyone with one of our guides making sure we were OK.
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Finally we were on solid ground, it was so welcomed I felt like running to celebrate. The downhill momentum was pushing me, I'd walked so far in the last ten hours I could barely feel my feet. Finally I was within our camp boundaries, and then I saw my tent, Jabs had already returned. I threw down my gear and stripped, so many layers still I needed to feel air on my skin. Moments later I crawled under my bag, horizontal at last, it was time for a cat nap before lunch.
We hiked into the clouds down a rock strewn saddle ridge, our pace quick behind Suleman. We took breaks, but none very long, the fog added a chill and we were eager to be done with this day. About three hours since Barafu we spotted the "hut's" roof in the distance, and a few minutes later we strolled past a helicopter pad to the ranger hut and signed in, for the last time. This evening was a blur, we spent some time after an informal evening briefing hanging out with some guides and exploring the tall brush forest, I found out that the porters were once again walking with our water up another large hill, the poor bastards. We also sorted out our tipping money, as the group organizer had tasked us during the first meeting, our accountant Olivia made sure everyone was rewarded for such tremendous efforts and I was happy to give my part. (I'd been carrying $200 everywhere for the past eight nights and I was glad to be relieved of most of it) The next morning we'd be meeting with our entire team for the "Tipping Ceremony" where we rewarded the various teams for their hard work over the past week and a half. Eventually we had dinner and passed out hard drunk on the oxygen rich air we'd be breathing deep all night.
This video is a little long, but very good. The next morning (Day 8) I was awoken one last time by the Swahili alarm clock, being the last time made it that much easier to take. We had an easy breakfast and congregated in the center of camp. We thanked the various divisions of our porters, our cook Milton, the assistant guides and of course Mr. Passian. They, in return, put on the show you just watched, eventually involving each one of the 15 of us... I was pretty moved and actually teared up, it was amazing to watch these silent & efficient workers so enthusiastic about thanking us for a successful expedition.
Shortly after we were back on the trail working our way down, Sarah, Jabs, Christine & myself behind Christopher in the lead... we were eager to get to a different climate and off this rock, I'd had enough, it was time for a shower. Of course the next stop was the rain-forest, which started out beautiful and turned into the most slippery mud track I've ever been forced to negotiate.
My new-ish boots tested just fine and after several hours the trail turned into a road which terminated at the Mweaka Gate - the last place to sign proving to the Tanzanian Government that were were leaving Kilimanjaro National Park. There were a lot of people here, and plenty of touts. Jabs tossed me two bucks to have the mud cleaned from my boots and someone sold me a beer, everything seemed incredibly appropriate. Maybe 30 minutes later were were walking down a road into Mweaka Village, we found the AWC's meeting spot and promptly had more beers... for some reason I was incredibly thirsty :) We spent about an hour having lunch, saying goodbyes and snatching up souvenirs from the overly eager sales force.. this was another part of Africa I would not miss, it was apparent that these people had been rewarded highly in the past for their obnoxious efforts. I was not amused and ended up swearing a guy off that was getting a little too close for comfort. We eventually boarded a bus where Jono & I rocked tunes while most of our party napped during the two hour drive back to the Ilboru Safari Lodge.
Notable moments, as I wrap this up: Checking back in was easy, as was retrieving our bag... but the hot water handle on my shower shot off seconds after I turned it on and I had to call engineering to repair before I could bathe for the first time in nine days.
I eventually got clean, did some packing and then joined our group in the restaurant for our final meal together. I ordered a bottle of wine and, once Sasha had them all filled out, made sure everyone received their "certificate", a park provided document proving we had reached Uhuru Peak. (It was official!) Passian had passed this responsibility to me before our bus trip back, he was not feeling well and made me promise to stay reasonably sober until they were dispersed through out the group ;) That night ended with whiskey shots and I passed out hard, tomorrow was an easy day where I just needed to pick a little stone up for my wifey and make it to the airport by 4pm.
I woke up after eight solid hours, took care of some last minute souvenir shopping and after packing everything into my duffel checked out. I was ready to depart the Ilboru and Africa, it was time to begin the 38 hour journey back to San Diego. After an uneventful airport ride, and checking our bags through to the U.S.A, as an encore I was graced with a clear view of the mountain from my window seat.
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The trail down from Stella was a crazy scree field, I had experience with this but wondered who else had because it was exhausting. We'd just climbed a lot of vertical and were now working through foot deep gravel... I could feel the Oxygen returning to my lungs and my desire to be through this challenge outweighed the pain in my toes, this descent was steep! It was a different way than we'd taken up, so many people climb this trail that it's one way and this scree field, although slippery, has proven to be the fastest route back. I guess it's easier to slide people down a wide rock-slide than ask them to maneuver a narrow exposed trail. I'll bet the time factor outweighs the benefits of solid ground. It took about an hour for our 1st goal of the descent to finally come into view. (our sleeping pads in our tents back at Barafu) There was still quite a ways to go down the scree field and our group was spread out over several miles, everyone with one of our guides making sure we were OK.
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We woke up an hour or two later, had a light lunch, and were ordered back to pack our gear, we still had a few hours of downhill to the Millennium Campground. (12,467 ft).JPG)
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We hiked into the clouds down a rock strewn saddle ridge, our pace quick behind Suleman. We took breaks, but none very long, the fog added a chill and we were eager to be done with this day. About three hours since Barafu we spotted the "hut's" roof in the distance, and a few minutes later we strolled past a helicopter pad to the ranger hut and signed in, for the last time. This evening was a blur, we spent some time after an informal evening briefing hanging out with some guides and exploring the tall brush forest, I found out that the porters were once again walking with our water up another large hill, the poor bastards. We also sorted out our tipping money, as the group organizer had tasked us during the first meeting, our accountant Olivia made sure everyone was rewarded for such tremendous efforts and I was happy to give my part. (I'd been carrying $200 everywhere for the past eight nights and I was glad to be relieved of most of it) The next morning we'd be meeting with our entire team for the "Tipping Ceremony" where we rewarded the various teams for their hard work over the past week and a half. Eventually we had dinner and passed out hard drunk on the oxygen rich air we'd be breathing deep all night.
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| EVERYONE |
My new-ish boots tested just fine and after several hours the trail turned into a road which terminated at the Mweaka Gate - the last place to sign proving to the Tanzanian Government that were were leaving Kilimanjaro National Park. There were a lot of people here, and plenty of touts. Jabs tossed me two bucks to have the mud cleaned from my boots and someone sold me a beer, everything seemed incredibly appropriate. Maybe 30 minutes later were were walking down a road into Mweaka Village, we found the AWC's meeting spot and promptly had more beers... for some reason I was incredibly thirsty :) We spent about an hour having lunch, saying goodbyes and snatching up souvenirs from the overly eager sales force.. this was another part of Africa I would not miss, it was apparent that these people had been rewarded highly in the past for their obnoxious efforts. I was not amused and ended up swearing a guy off that was getting a little too close for comfort. We eventually boarded a bus where Jono & I rocked tunes while most of our party napped during the two hour drive back to the Ilboru Safari Lodge.
Notable moments, as I wrap this up: Checking back in was easy, as was retrieving our bag... but the hot water handle on my shower shot off seconds after I turned it on and I had to call engineering to repair before I could bathe for the first time in nine days.
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| Shower Engineers |
I eventually got clean, did some packing and then joined our group in the restaurant for our final meal together. I ordered a bottle of wine and, once Sasha had them all filled out, made sure everyone received their "certificate", a park provided document proving we had reached Uhuru Peak. (It was official!) Passian had passed this responsibility to me before our bus trip back, he was not feeling well and made me promise to stay reasonably sober until they were dispersed through out the group ;) That night ended with whiskey shots and I passed out hard, tomorrow was an easy day where I just needed to pick a little stone up for my wifey and make it to the airport by 4pm.
I woke up after eight solid hours, took care of some last minute souvenir shopping and after packing everything into my duffel checked out. I was ready to depart the Ilboru and Africa, it was time to begin the 38 hour journey back to San Diego. After an uneventful airport ride, and checking our bags through to the U.S.A, as an encore I was graced with a clear view of the mountain from my window seat.
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Goodbye Africa, it's been nice, I'll see you again someday.
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