Before the start of the tale (and yes it’s going to be a long one, but as usual a cliff notes version before the long one), you need to understand the cast (in alpha order); nicknames will be explained later (an incentive to read the full entry)
- Victoria Brumfield (a/k/a Torrie, Kili,)
- Randi Gordon (El Torro)
- Justin (me a/k/a J-Mo)
- Maggie O’Brien (Magpie)
- Micha Ophir (Soldier)
- Jacquie Wolfson (Doc)
- …our fearless guides, Mussa, Deglan and John and about 27 other porters, chefs, and a bathroom attendant.
And some Swahili expressions and words used throughout the climb…To understand more, read the entire entry (sorry, no short-cuts)
- Pole Pole - meaning slowly (a key expression used a lot)
- Jambo - Means hi in a more formal way
- Mambo - equivalent of “yo” or “whass-up”
- Assanti - Thank you
- Wash-Wash - something they give you to wash up
- The Blue Tent of Happiness - or portable toilet (yes it was blue and amazing)
Cliff Notes...
Now, it is no secret I am no camping fan. This trip was stretching me way outside my comfort zone as it required 6 days and 5 nights of camping, no shower for 5 days, sleeping on the earth, wearing the same clothing multiple times (basically being filthy and smelly), and living w/o my creature comforts (books, cell phone, Internet, etc.).
At the end of the day, I survived — smelled but survived. Before the trip, I was diagnosed with a slipped disc in my L4/5 and 3/4 vertebrates and wasn't actually cleared to travel until a week prior to the trip. While I did not make it to the top of Mt. Kilimanjaro (I made it to 5k Meters of elevation before succumbing to altitude sickness), I pushed past the pain and did what I could on that given day. No regrets and cherished the experience…and the shower after.
And now for those wanting the blow-by-blow, here is my version of the trek to Kilimanjaro.
Prologue: The Trek just to Get to Kili
We left NYC on a mild Friday evening for the start of the epic journey. An uneventful flight from NYC to Amsterdam brought us to a 3-hour layover and the chance to catch some sleep for an hour or so, eat what is served on the plane and repeat. The 8+ hour flight from Amsterdam to Kilimanjaro felt more like 24-hours, perhaps because none of us had a proper night sleep since Thursday. In b/w we had discussions on when to take the altitude sickness medication (Maggie and I chose to take it, others did not), several walks around Amsterdam airport, a few security checks, and countless bad movies. Finally around 10pm we arrived in Kilimanjaro. First the payment window, then the photograph window (where you get your actual visa) and finally time to get fingerprinted (no clue why). got our visas (one line) and went through immigration (two more lines). Note to anyone traveling to Tanzania, get your visas ahead of time and save the 45-min wait.
With Visas in hand and luggage collected (phew all bags arrived), we rode nearly two hours to the “resort” (loose terms). Upon arrival, we were greeted, assigned rooms, and told to eat dinner (it was approaching midnight by now). Post dinner (Africa time puts Island time to shame), we all called it a night — 1:00am Sunday morning, after leaving NYC at 5:50pm on Friday.
On Sunday, we organized our stuff, and did a quick tour of some local “attractions” in the village including the waterfalls, a local coffee and banana farm, and a cave before packing and repacking our day bags (the ones we carry ourselves) and our regular bags (the ones the porters are carrying for us). During our orientation for the trek, we learned we’ll have a total of 30 guides with us including a head guide, two assistant guides, a cook, and about 27 other guides who will do everything for us from setting up our camp site before we arrive, to carrying a flushing toilet up the mountain (this became known as the blue tented mecca). All of us rented supplies from the touring company (including sleeping bags, a heavyweight parka, walking sticks, a thin foam “mattress” and Oxygen tanks [we had to carry the sleeping bags, poles, and coat each day and was including into the 15k weight limit). We also leaned the route, approx. time per day we’ll be walking, and the gain (or eventual loss) we’ll climb each day. The longest day, summit day, will occur on day 5 (of 6) when we lave base camp at midnight, summit at day-break, and continue down the mountain for a total of about 13-15 hours (about the time of an Ironman).
The Climb…Rongai Route from 2,000K to 5,686K meters above sea level.
Day 1: Mon, December 29th - Park Gate to Simba Camp (+750 Meters )
We left the “resort” at 8:30am and traveled 1.5 hours to the start of our climb. Prior to leaving, we each had to weigh our luggage (which the porters would be carrying up for us everyday along w our tents, a kitchen, a bathroom [the blue tent), a mess-tent and their own sleeping quarters) to ensure it was not over the max weight of 15k (or ~ 33 lb.). Anything over 15k we would need to carry in our day packs (including water, change of clothing, snacks, etc.) . Upon arrival at the Gate, we met our Head Gide Mussa, our assistant guides Deglan and John as well as our chief Robert before starting out on the journey.
The first hour or so was exciting. While we started to walk uphill, we were fresh, were at lower altitude, were enjoying the scenery, and did’t smell. All of us were chatting about the adventure, taking some photos of the local scenery (it wasn’t too warm even though we were in the rain forest), getting to know John (who started us out). I even named my sun hat “Gilligan” (it looked like the one from Gilligan’s Island) which was a constant staple on my head (that or a bandanna which I called “badass” — ‘cause I felt like one when wearing it). We broke for a boxed lunch consisting of a bread a butter sandwich, carrots, a banana, and a candy bar(immediately I knew my metabolically efficient diet was out the window for the next few days). Making the newbie mistake, I over packed my day bag with 4.5 liters of water, a first aid kit, a book (why I thought I would have time to read is beyond me). Luckily, Maggie, Jacquie and Micha offered to help lighten my load and took some things off of me. The vegetation around us was spectacular — almost to the extent you forgot you were on a mountain. Green plush plants, flowers, and trees were everywhere. Unfortunately we did not catch a glimpse of any wildlife (I was hoping for a monkey spotting) during our trek.
After lunch, we started to climb again and were met with a sudden downpour (yes this was expected) and we all put on our wet pants (on top of our clothing), ponchos, gators (for those who had them) and continued to climb. To pass some time, we told each other stories about our childhood, I confessed my fear of birds, and joked a lot. This was going to be a fun trip if we laughed as much as we did the first day.
Throughout the first leg, John made sure we were going “poli-poli” which felt weird, but he knew best. There were times when we got tired, had to shed clothing (not the rain pants, jackets, ponchos, etc.) as we trudged through the wet conditions.
We made it to Simba Camp in about 3:45 hours (average time), climbing about 750 meters and immediately went on another acclamation hike of about 30 mins. After that we settled into our tents (I was with Randi, Maggie and Jacquie were paired as well as Vic and Micha), were introduced to our first “wash wash” had our first taste of dinner on the climb and crashed by 8:00pm (it was not like there was any TV on to veg out in front of). Each of us was also assigned an attendant to help us during our trip (Ellie was assigned to me). He was a great guy, but didn’t speak much (I do not know if he even knew any English). My first night in the tent wasn’t that bad and fell asleep.
A little about the meals. Robert was an excellent chef no doubt and did amazing things given the conditions. Breakfast daily was some type of oatmeal, lunches were some type of stew, and each dinner started off with a vegetable soup (we all had our fair share of cauliflower soup by the end of the trip) and lots (and I mean lots) of carbs (potatoes, rice and even pasta once (but don’t ask Jacquie about the e-bollanese sauce she had one night).
Day 2, Tuesday, December 30th: Simba Camp to Kukelelwa Cave and Kevin’s appearance. (+900 Meters )
We were woken up at 6:30am and offered a “wash wash” and coffee (or tea) and were told to be in the mess-tent by 7:00am all packed up (meaning our day and luggage was all packed up) so we can get into the road by 8:00am.
This was billed as a long day — meaning 8 hours of climbing gaining 900M of altitude — with a break for lunch after 4 hours and another 4 hours after that. The weather started to get colder, and while I had a base layer, a sweater and a windbreaker on, I still did not wear long johns.
I have to say this was by far the most enjoyable day for me. While the trek was tough taking us over steep terrain, rocks, and a few pauses to catch our breath, we had a blast singing, laughing and making up nicknames. Micah started to tell us about the Israeli army (first McGuyver was his name and then we settled on Soldier (but when together, Vic and Micha were known as the “Michas” like the Ropers in Three’s Company...alas J-Mo, MagPie and Doc stuck w/me, Maggie and Jacquie…Randi’s name did not emerge until Day 4). We also started to call ourselves Kili (Vic as lead singer) and the Monjaros because of our bad, but enthusiastic singing and we sang a lot that day. As the air thinned, we could hardly remember full songs or even verses so decided our group does jams of hit songs, snippets or just one liners. I do not know if Deglan (who was leading our group this day) knew what to make of us, but think he even started to laugh near the end.
As mentioned, I have an irrational fear and dislike of birds. Call this having pigeons crap on me, having a seagull nearly attack me while on vacation last year, or just the fact that their beaks look like they can do serious damage; I just don’t like them very much. At one point, Micha saw a very large looking creature (I have no idea what type of bird it was), pointed it out to me and said, hey look Kevin is following you. Well, Kevin stuck and overtime we saw a bird soaring over us, someone said, '“hey Kevin is here.” Funny enough Kevin did actually follow us the entire journey up the mountain and until we exited the area.
The route was getting harder and harder and at each in line I kept cursing whomever said this trek was easy. There were times we were walking up what felt like the side of a skyscraper (really), or were walking over volcanic rocks (Kili was an active volcano many, many centuries ago). The plant life was changing from lush grass and trees, to smaller plants and desert-like vegetation. We took short and long rests throughout the day to catch our breath, allow our bodies to adjust to altitude, and take photos (we have many). Indeed it was hard both mentally and physically, but eventually we caught a glimpse of Blue Paradise and knew we made it “home” for the night. After a wash wash,we had dinner (yes some type of veggie soup again), and crashed getting ready for the next day.
Day 3: Wednesday, December 31st: To Mawenzi (New Years Eve) - The Alpine Desert (elevation +750 Meters )
The day started out like the previous, but with thinner and colder air. This meant the layers kept being piled on (and our day packs were getting heavier). This was a shorter day, but a much harder one (terrain and elevation-wise) than the previous two days and we could see the mountain in the foreground. The terrain was desert-like (makes sense considering it was a volcano); we only wished there was desert-like heat. Regardless, we continued to try and have fun and pass the hours (the first stage was ~ 4 hours) and fatigue, soreness, lack of oxygen and initial onset of altitude nausea made it around our group).
I do not believe any of us properly planned for the clothing, hence we started to wear and re-wear clothing over and over again. Not that we cared, as showers were nowhere near on the horizon and our daily wash consisted of baby-wipes and other wet cloths (which did I mention were heavy). Deglan, John or Mussa kept trying to keep us on our pole pole pace, but it was getting harder to do so as the terrain wasn’t exactly like Central Park (where we did the majority of our practice climbs). Our boots (which were once pristine) were covered with soot as we continued the upward climb.
Instead of stopping for lunch like we did on prior days, we plowed right through it stopping for rests and quick snacks only (our oatmeal and toast breakfast was bone sticking). I packed a lot of Kind Bars, some jerky, and self-made trail mix baggies; none of which I actually ate on the trek up. Guess I was losing my appetite as the altitude started to affect me more and more, so each day I gave some of my snacks to the porters to enjoy.
On our last few Kilometers into camp, we traveled across shocking rocky terrain, but were struck that the porters were simply hanging out in certain areas. When we asked Deglan about this, he told us it was where they knew cell service could be found and they were checking in with their families, loved ones, or simply playing candy crush (kidding). The road into camp required we go one-by-one and we all made sure we were all ok (helping each other over tricky areas). Finally, we saw Blue Paradise on the horizon and knew we made it “home” again.
Mawenzi was probably one of the most beautiful camps — with its own “lake.” The air was cold, but before we were allowed to eat and rest (before an acclimatization hike), we had to register with the Kili Park Service (basically had to sign in). There we noticed a pair of bull horns and wanted to take some photos. Randi walked over, put her head near the bones and knocked them over (earning her nickname of El Toro). After a quick meal and rest, John needed us to practice using our oxygen tanks and walking poles so he and Deglan took us out of an extremely steep hike up the side of a ridge surrounding the camp.
The tubes to the oxygen tanks were put into our nostrils with the packs on our backs (like they are in the hospital). Collectively, whenever we took a breath, it sounded like a scene from an old-age home was walking towards you. The practice hike was hard and not being a skier, I was not used to using poles to support my legs (either up or down). If the practice hike was anything like the mountain trek, I was in trouble. We went extremely pole pole and most of us did ok (Mica, of course, opted not to use his oxygen tank that much — he is a true bad ass solider). Gong down was a lot harder than going up and we had to ensure our feet did not slip on any of the earth or rocks. It was harder to go slowly, but I managed by making sure I went zig-zag and stepping with my heels and not the base of my foot. We climbed for about 1,000 meters in multiple layers, walking poles and oxygen tanks, Compare this to what we would have done on a typical New Year's Eve.
That night, after another round of soup and a main course of pasta; which is when Jacquie got her taste of e-bolenese, we settled for the night. I cannot say it was a restful one as at 10pm and again at midnight, the porters started to celebrate the new year (maybe the first celebration was one of the neighboring trekkers from Europe - probably the Norwegians whom we encountered a few times during the trek). Anyway, it was loud, and the temps definitely dropped a lot (meaning multiple layers on in a sleeping bag…on the ground…in a tent that did not keep much of the air out [did I mention I am not a fan of camping). In fact, Mussa left his shorts to dry on a rock overnight only to find them frozen the next morning.
At 6:00am it was time for our wake up with a wash-wash and hot coffee.
Day 4: Thursday, Jan 1st (New Years Day) To Kibo Hut +370 Meters
What a way to kick off 2015. Unlike others when I would be suffering from a hangover and watching college football trying to cure my body from over indulgence, I was on a mountain, having camped for three nights and was planning on climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro. Wow! Yet this day had its own type of hell. It was hard both mentally and even more so, physically. The path was extremely steep and it was very cold out, and it was when I started to get altitude sickness.
We left camp and proceeded closer and closer to the mountain. I felt great as we started the day — making our way out of the valley our camp was in and onto the road to Kibo (our base camp). At times it felt like the City of Oz in the foreground that was never getting any closer. We tried to sing, but kept forgetting the words to songs. The persistent laughing and smiling of prior days were not so prevalent — but we all tried to keep our spirits high and made sure we rested whenever someone needed it. Our strides were slower than before, as we kept walking, walking and walking. While not that steep, the incline was constant and steady — never really breaking for a flat or even a downhill. Most of the crew kept the prospect of climbing the mountain as motivation for achieving base camp. I was fighting the altitude and kept making sure I was breathing and drinking water or Nuun to get in some nutrients (as our appetites were suppressed, most of us were not taking in many calories at this point).
There is no doubt about it…I felt horrible as we finally made it up the last hill and got to base camp. There was a great energy around the camp — something I wished I was able to catch, but I felt nauseous and could only think about crashing. Maggie took charge and signed us all into camp (like we had to in the prior camp). After taking our day 4 photo, I crawled to our tent and fell flat on my face. I started to doubt whether or not I would even begin the journey up Kili - I felt that bad. Mussa came over to see if I was ok and made my get up to try and eat some dinner. While I tried to get some food in, I could not eat, could not vomit and as Randi said, looked horrible. Robert brought out a bottle of wine for us to celebrate the New Year. However, none of us — especially me — wanted to drink a thing the night before the summit.
After playing with my food a bit, Mussa sent us all to bed at around 6:15pm as the next day was summit day and we would begin with a 11pm wake-up call.
Day 5: Friday , Jan 1st and Saturday, 2nd (Part 1). Summit Day
At 11pm, we heard our wash-wash being delivered along with our coffee. Having come back to life a bit, I was somewhat optimistic about being able to climb. I tried to get some oatmeal down and we assembled ourselves. 5 layers on top, two on the bottom, walking poles, two hats, a pair of heavy gloves, 3 liters of water and the very critical oxygen tank — we all looked like we should have been checking into The Biggest Loser Ranch instead of climbing 1,500 meters.
We started the assent walking probably a foot every minute or so (if that fast). When I tell you we were walking uphill, imagine walking on a sandy floor at a 45-degree angle in pitch black. The oxygen tanks went off in unison as if we were all in a retired elderly home hooked to tanks. With our fearless guides leading the way, we slowly we zigged and zagged the trail.
An hour and a half in, my health began its backward slide. I was just off. My legs were moving slowly, yet my breath was labored. My legs felt like they had weights attached to them walking steadily uphill, Once in a while we all stopped to take a break. What felt like eternity was only about 2 hours and about 200 meters. As we were approaching what we thought was our first long break, my left foot essentially said enough and almost collapsed underneath me. When we all stopped for a quick break, I told the head guide — Mussa — I was done and I need to go back down the mountain He asked me three times if I was sure (sort of what a ref does in a race). Sadly I was. My long term health, the recovery from the slipped disc and an Ironman this August was much more important than summiting. With my decision made, Mussa guided me back down to base camp. I wish the way down was as easy as you would think it would be, but alas it was not. Only having skied once in my life, the poles were my lifeblood as I skidded, walked, and prayed on my way down. What took me 2-hours to get up, took me 20 minutes to get back. I proceeded to my tent and crashed to await the others return. NO regrets.
In my tent, the temps got colder and colder as it turned from early morning to mid-morning. I woke up a few times to check the clock, anticipating the crew to return around 7am. 7am past, then 8am, 9am, 10am. Finally around 11am, Randi came in and looked like death. She made it to Stella Point at 5,686 meters) — one of the last ones before the very summit, but had to stop and was escorted down by Mussa (who after taking my back down climbed back up). Randi crashed and around 45 minutes later, I heard Maggie, Micha and Vic all come in. They were thrilled to have made it to the top (Uhuru Peak at 5,896 Meters), but were all exhausted from the trek. A few minutes later Jacquie returned and kissed the ground. Immediately I knew I made the right decision for me on that day and knew my body simply would not have made it up the mountain. I wish my friends had an opportunity to rest, but our day called for a quick lunch and an immediate departure 3/4 back down the mountain (or another 5 hour journey). Feeling fresh, I helped pack everyone I could before we set off.
Day 5: Part II: Down we Go….2,180 Meters from Kibo Hut to Horombo
As hard as going uphill is, downhill is equally hard as your quads, ankles, and calves feel every movement Carrying clothing for the cold and warmer weather — as we left the mountain — and were traveling to warmer climate — added some extra weight to our weary bodies (at least we did not have to carry the oxygen tanks). Jacquie was struggling the most so Vic, Micha and I walked alongside her offering an arm on the steeper descents to help stabilize her. While we were not going as slowly as were on the ascent, we were all very cautious as the ground was slippery and you could lose fitting very easily.
Even though it got slightly warmer as we made our way back down and we had to shed layers along the way, the mountain air was still very much present and the winds were gusty at times. The minute the altitude started to wane, my headache disappeared and I started to feel more normal (well as normal as I get). The road down was never truly flat, but there were section that were easier than others to navigate. Jacquie started to come alive a bit more, but we had to force her to take in some fluids (Nuun again saved the day) to regain some strength. Our laughing and even a bit of singing returned as we all started to feel a bit better (not having made the climb up, I had an “unfair” advantage and felt better than the rest). We kept asking Mussa how much longer as this 25k felt like an eternity; his reply was a constant “about 20 more minutes” which after a few times made us laugh even more so. Finally after about 5 hours of walking downhill, I caught a glimpse of Blue Paradise and knew we were finally back. Randi and Maggie had walked ahead of us and signed us into camp and helped to lay out Jacque’s sleeping bag so she could crash.
Mussa let us re-organize a bit before calling us into dinner. For the first time in three days I had an appetite and actually ate most of dinner. Jacquie slept through this meal and both Maggie and Randi were not feeling so great. Eventually we all crashed as our goal to leave camp was 7:30am the next morning.
Day 6: Sunday, January 3rd - Horombo to Marantu Gate - 1,920 meters of descent
The morning started out with a symbolic and ritualistic goodbye from the crew which included a few traditional songs for us (like their goodbye and congratulations ceremony) followed by a speech from Mussa. After which it was our turn to speak (we nominated Vic as our spokesperson) and our turn to offer tips as a thank you for bringing us — and more important our stuff — up and back down the mountain (as the self-nominated banker, I created envelopes for each of the teams). Following this ritual, we packed up our stuff for our last portion of the trek down the mountain.
The last leg of our journey called for a 19k walk for about 8-hours as we made our way back to the Gate. At this point all I could think about was a shower and a coke. Two things that keep my motivation up and my walking speed. Jacquie and most of the gang were all back to their normal selves and the frequency of the laughter increased as we kept getting closer and closer to home.
This day took us from the base of the mountain into the rain forest covering both extremely rocky and steep terrain. We had to keep constant vigil on our footing as one misstep and you could easily fall. Micha, Deglan and I were walking out ahead while Maggie was mostly walking with Randi and Jacquie with Vic. Micha and I were asking Deglan a lot about the Tanzania culture, his tribe, life as a guide and his family life. We both walked away with a wealth of knowledge and a deeper understanding of what life is like for guides and porters. This really helped the time (not to mention the 11k by foot) go by as we broke for lunch and a rest.
After lunch, we headed deeper into the rain forest (luckily it did not rain) for about another 8k. The vegetation changed once again as the terrain went from rocks to tree roots. We still had to be extremely careful with our footing as the slope continued down and down. Vic’s IT band suddenly tightened and had to stop often to stretch. Despite her (at times extreme) pain, she continued to have fun creating a Floridian persona that she and Jacquie kept up for a good 45-minutes making us all laugh. At one point John pointed out a monkey in a tree which we all stopped to watch for a bit. The weather was never too hot and we are still at about 2,000 meters above sea level. However, I felt great and kept focused on the getting clean and downing a coke (Maggie joked that I was going at shower speed); At every turn, but to no avail, I kept hoping to see concrete and a parking lot. Finally, at one last turn, I saw it, the sign for Marantu Gate signaling our arrival back. We were all so happy to see the gate, our strides and pace increased — no more pole pole — we were home.
After a group photo with John and Deglan (Mussa went ahead of us to sort out our luggage and plan for our arrival), I dashed into a concession/gift shop and bought everyone a Coke (one wish granted). We all had to sign back in and state our highest point where we climbed. Everyone who made it to the top of the mountain received a nice certificate as a souvenir of their survival to the top. While I did not receive one, I did push my personal limits, lived outside my comfort zone, faced my own demons and came out on top. It was a truly memorable trip, but I am down with extreme camping and climbing for a while.
And then it was time for a shower……Ah!!!
More photos from the trek can be found here.
