Journey to Mount Kilimanjaro, Part 3

CONTRAST It really set in on my first day back, I was looking out the window from my desk on the 3rd floor fascinated by the people waiting for the light to change so they could cross the street.

A little later I was in the control room, back in the saddle.

NBC 7 Control Room

So many monitors, so many wires and so many sources, including our local reporter in London. He’s now mingling with world class athletes and international correspondents ready to go live when he’s whispered the word “cue” through his inner-ear receiver, from a producer halfway around the world. We began hiking out of the narrow valley that housed the aged Moir Hut, when we crested the first ridge we could see Mount Meru to the east, Kili’s little sister.

Setting out from Moir Camp

My discussions with the guides turned to interviews: How do you like your job? The answers were usually the same, they loved it. Of course they missed their families while on the mountain, but having worked their way up through the ranks of porters to the status of Guide has given them an appreciation for the finer points of Tanzanian life. Hashim said, “This is my office.” What a concept, I was impressed with every guides answer, after so many nights sleeping on the mountain none of them seemed numb to their surroundings, they all had a deep respect for their Kibo.

My headache continued, never unbearable, but never gone. The uphill had become constant with just some minor dips between ravines and ridges, a veteran’d hiker advised me to focus on my breathing: Deep inhales with my nose and deeper exhales through my mouth, the goal was to change out the CO2 that was not getting flushed from my lungs, potentially contributing to this relentless pain in my knoggin’ - it worked, but perhaps only a Jedi mind trick, whatever, Ibuprofen wasn’t solving anything and I can’t fit anymore water in me. I’m already taking pee breaks two to three times an hour, one shouldn’t need more hydration than that, right?

The road to the Lava Tower

Pole-pole, up, down, up, across, up some more; tonight's campsite was next to the Lava Tower (14,928 ft) which had just become visible on the horizon, I felt good that the goal was in sight. The trail merged with others, we were starting to understand how 40,000 people a year stand on top. There are a LOT more porters on this trail making their way to various camps towards the southern flank of the mountain. Today’s goal is below the Western Breach, I huffed and puffed up the last slope while staring at the Arrow Glacier. 

Our camps are highlighted
Trail is Shira Plateau extending to the Moir Huts and joining the Machame Route

Finally I was able to throw my pack down and enjoy some down time, lunch was ready but I was lagging hard unwilling to absorb anything that might enhance this damned pounding in my head. The scenery was amazing, under normal circumstances I would have been climbing that tower for fun but I needed some time... we were expected on an acclimation hike to the Arrow Glacier Camp. (15,748 ft)

Things got a little blurry here but my body, and my bro’s, were operating on instinct. I know I had some food and drank a shitload of water before I stumbled out of camp at the back of the pack and picked up a stick to assist my failing balance, this was a steep ascent. After about 45 minutes we crested the final ridge and gazed upon what seemed like a wasteland. The camp was desolate, there were tipped over outHouses (probably from the wind) and what tents were set up were quiet, guessing everyone in this camp was resting for a midnight ascent up this not-so-popular route.

Arrow Glacier Camp

The guides recounted what happened here in 2006: Three climbers were killed by rockfall on the Western Breach, another member of that party and several porters were injured... this route was closed, but is now re-opened under the conditions that climbers wear a helmet and sign a waiver.

We were so close to the summit, just a few hours up this incredibly steep trail... but this hike was just training, We turned around and started back down the mountain, it was time to return to the Lava Tower. I felt great on the way down, a few advil actually helped and my spirits were improved. We took our time eventually making camp, cleaning up, having dinner and enjoying the sunset. Tonight Jono spent some time taking some beautiful pictures, his SLR and that cumbersome tripod were really paying off - kudos to him for braving the cold, this night I had to wear earplugs to bed as the wind never ceased and the temperature dropped to its lowest point yet.

Courtesy J. Forrest

Living at sea level, or 410 feet above sea level, has definitely taken a toll on me. Sleep was difficult, I welcomed morning in its frigid splendor and lead the pack off that bitter windy saddle down into the Great Barranco Valley. (12,795 ft) Vegetation came back along with a small forest of crazy trees. (Senecio Johnstonii) They were like a cross between a palm and a Joshua Tree, and they were dotted throughout the valley amongst the streams and waterfalls.

My headache was still present, but descending was improving everything and the next stage of our climb was the most exciting. We’d been getting warned about The Barranco Wall, it was steep and we were told to stash our poles because we would need our hands for the ascent. Of course this is my favorite part, I like to climb and this way we were actually covering more vertical in less time. I hadn’t actually used my poles and concentrated on assisting some of our group that were a little intimidated by this switchbacking and exposed trail, I was more comfortable here than on any terrestrial path - ground is uneven, rock is solid.

The Barranco Wall

We made the top, enjoyed our packed lunch and started along the south-eastern flank of Kibo. I kept stumbling because I couldn’t take my eyes off the southern ice fields off to my left, we were so close.

Karanga Camp across Valley

The trail was basic, ups and downs, nothing too drastic until the Karanga Valley. That was a huge down, steep with parts where the trail intermingled with the creek.

We made the bottom, and the last water access before the summit, we noticed some porters carrying five gallon containers slowly climbing a trail to our left. These guys are such bad-asses handling the work only animals could do in the Andes or Himalayas, the title “porter” doesn't seem appreciative enough. We took that steep route up to the Karanga Valley Campsite (13,123 ft, see the pic above) Today was a big day but having the end in sight was motivating, and after about twenty minutes we were signing in at another cylindrical green ranger hut and planting our bags in the tent. We were close, the mountain was in our faces, a few of us found a perch and appreciated our journey this far - we were one night away from our summit attempt, it was cold but we were amped, the next day was a short one so we took pics, had dinner and eventually stumbled to bed exhausted from a long day’s work.

The Southern Ice Fields

Courtesy J. Forrest