In Part 2 Scott continues his recount of his journey to the summit of Kilimanjaro, click here if you've missed Part 1
Day 2: Mandara – Horombo
Sleeping at altitude is not so easy; maybe it was the snoring or was it just the strange surroundings? I recall the great Gareth Edwards told a tale about ‘kippers & snorers’ on the ’74 Lions Tour, how they quickly found out in which category they were to ensure harmony at the hotel during their stay. We quickly found out that night who among us were the snorers!
Breakfast was prepared and served. Locally produced coffee in abundance, eggs and sausage were also on offer but preceded by ‘pop’, a maize based dish which had a wall paper paste type look and taste but recommended as a carbohydrate boost. All in all very palatable for the start of the day.
An hour into the hike we escaped the forest and into the escarpment of the mountain range. It became a stunning day, the pace again slow, the sun shining and spirits are good.
Half way we stop for our packed lunch and catch up on some photo opportunities, take on some fluids and continue to Horombo where we would discuss strategy and monitor our blood oxygen levels to ensure we maintain a healthy appreciation of our vitals.
Upon reaching Horombo, it was quite apparent that Bugsy was feeling unwell. Our first casualty. He had picked up a stomach bug, another stark reminder about sanitizing your hands at regular intervals. He became violently ill, which alarmed us all. Had it been something to do with the food or water?
That night we decided that we would cut a day out of our initial itinerary. We would make the summit attempt a day early! We were unified in our decision even though it was not the prudent way of attacking the mountain. Another day would have ensured an easier path to the top as we would have benefitted from the extra day of acclimating to the conditions.
After the meeting, we held a poker game to relax while supper was being prepared. I was starting to feel much stronger, others we reeling from the long day and the ill effects of early AMS onset was obvious to the group. We went through the strategy over dinner which basically was ensuring we took on the appropriate amount of DIAMOX. A pre-requisite drug for such a quick ascent.
Kibo to Uhuru
On the route to Kibo Huts a pair of vultures circled us high above, almost eerie in their presence. The Lamachaai, an indigenous bird to the mountain were deemed to be a lucky symbol to all climbers or so we were told. It was a beautiful sight, far cry from the dark clouds looming over them!
A storm was brewing of huge proportion, there was no doubt.
We arrived at Kibo huts around mid afternoon,
The legs tired, the body cold and the engine hungry for fuel, the sense of adventure heightened by the flecks of snow falling. Perhaps this will just blow over I say to myself!
We had orders to rest up; ‘sleep if you can’ was the order of the day. This was not made easy, the deafness of the thunder and flashings of lightening perpetuated the exhaustion. “What are we in for” I hear myself think. I had spent many hours in the Alps and The Rockies when the weather has turned nasty, but not like this- never this exposed.
I finally got some sleep, the cocktail of cold and altitude coupled with the basic conditions made it all the more difficult to close your eyes. Our supper call was for 6pm, with my supplies down to a bare minimum, this supper was to be the last mountain meal for the next 24 hours, so it was vital that we fuelled up adequately. Up until now the offering had almost been palatable, a water based soup to start followed by a rice or pasta type dish with fish or some local protein, never quite sure exactly what it was, didn’t want to know either as it all tasted the same. Tonight’s delights were a tuna curry...... I shiver every time I think of it.....tuna... &...curry....almost makes me laugh as I recall that Peter Kay sketch about Garlic Bread.
Anyways, not one to turn his nose up at any food, I inhaled it. If it wasn’t for the fact that I was running on empty, a longer sleep may have been a better option when I consider the effects it had on my stomach that evening.
We returned to our bunks for a few hours of “feet up”, eagerly waiting our 10.30 pm call to arms.
The time had come to attack the hill.
Up until now it had been a pleasant few days hike but we knew that the hard work of traversing to Gilman’s point was going to test our resolve and it didn’t disappoint!
The snow came down thick and fast, the temperature fell to below -20 and there was a definite wind chill factor.
Time to kit up, I had invested in some real mountain gear, my RAB layers coming into their own. My first mistake of the adventure and I knew it before I had left the UK was to omit my skiing mittens, I never felt the cold with them on but for this trip I had reverted to a pair of gloves, bad call....
It was 5 minutes into the storm when I discovered that I had no feeling in my fingers, I was cursing myself no end at the school boy error of leaving my mittens behind. This coupled with my light failing almost 5 minutes later, I thought to myself that the ‘Lamachaai’, the vulture sighting earlier in the day, was not a good luck bird at all and the omen for a tough night at the office was ever present.
The 6 hour hike to Gilman’s was so very tough, the weather and cold made it worse, whilst I was still reeling about the mittens, I also thought to myself that my crampons and ice axe would have been more suitable this evening than the hiking poles we all had.
After 4.40hrs we finally hit the false summit of Gilman’s Point,
totally exhausted with a sense of relief that Uhuru Peak can’t be too far away.........how wrong I was.
The tepid cup of tea we had as a respite did nothing to quench the inimitable thirst for a warm bed, clean clothes and the smell of a Sunday Roast!!
The next 2 hours pushed me to my very limits, at times I would be hunched over my poles wanting to fall into a deep sleep. The weather not getting any better as we continued to battle the 18 inches of snow underfoot.
At this point, my body started to shut down, absolute fatigue and the need to sleep was so over powering. We hiked 30 paces and rested for 3 minutes, it was the only way to take in the thin air and keep moving.
The sun finally broke thru the clouds and that sense of warmth started to reach my extremities, light relief but enough to keep moving slowly to the summit. Uhuru Peak was in sight, the mountain lit up in all his majesty, what a beautiful place to be, I thought to myself, the adventure nearing its climax and the smiles and song returned to the group.
Francois led from the front and I was right behind him.
I didn’t manage the short sprint to the summit but his infectious enthusiasm kept us all in concert as we finally hit Unuru Peak. Suddenly all the pain and anguish had disappeared, well, for a moment.
The sense of achievement and elation was immense; you knew that you had witnessed something special. We all shared a tear. I was especially touched, I suddenly felt closer to my mum (she had passed away a long time ago through breast cancer) but standing on top of Africa gave me a chance to reach up to the sky and be close to her again. The tears flooded down my face and that beautiful smile she always wore resonated through my heart. This was truly a journey I needed to make.
After a short picture call
we had the arduous journey of descending. The hike to Gilman’s made easy now that the sun was out and that the summit had been reached. I was still cautious. Most people who die on the mountain do so having spent all their energy summiting leaving nothing in the tank to retreat. We still had a way to go before we were out of the woods, so to speak, and safely at the Kibo base.
It took another 7 hours to descend, step by step, ever mindful that now was not the time to make a mistake. The headaches were still a major factor of discomfort; dehydration and the sun were playing its part too, energy levels depleted but an inner resolve kept me focused to continue.
We finally get back to Kibo, some faster than others but all in one piece.
Francois, Dominic and I decided that we would continue to retreat to Horombo leaving the remainder of the group to rest up at Kibo. This was in part the fact that we wanted to get the heck off the mountain, it hadn’t beaten us but we were keen to get to Marangu gate as soon as physically possible. The headaches suddenly disappeared within 2 hours of the descent; the pain subsiding with every step. It was back to the comfortable scenery and easy hiking. The job was done as far as we were concerned.
The sight of the huts at Horombo and the welcome from Sam and Bugsy was a wonderful sight. They had both recovered from their ailments and keen to hear of our summiting. We had made it; we had successfully summited in just over 3.5 days. We waited for the rest of the team to join us later that evening to decide our final plans to return to Moschi, the hotel and the plane journey home.
We decide to get an early start, we headed off at 4am en route to Marangu Gate. The 8 hours hike made easier as it was all downhill and relatively flat. I had lost some time on the descent as I had slipped and broken one of my poles, just a reminder that I still needed to be careful with the finish line in sight. The goal was to be in the air by mid afternoon so that we could be back in Cape Town around midnight on the Thursday.
Our guides sang us a farewell song, a small thank you from them to us.
As a team, we had witnessed this beautiful part of Africa. We had scaled the top of the continent and it was now time to return to Cape Town, to cycle the tip of Africa too, all in 7 days.
The short ride back to the hotel with Kilimanjaro in the backdrop was an incredible reminder of what we had endured. The need to freshen up, take a hot shower and shave was overwhelming. It took a good half hour to cleanse myself of the sweat and toil from my skin.
Before we loaded the bus up with our duffle bags, a presentation was made by us to all of our mountain guides. We issued our sincere thanks to them all for such a magnificent adventure and more importantly a safe return to Moshi. I personally thanked my guide and gave him my boots as a small gesture of my gratitude.
It was now time for Calypso airways to take off and migrate south for the Pick n Pay Cape Argus, a 110km cycle ride around the tip of Africa in the company of Francois and his MAD Foundation.
MAD was definitely the buzz word for the week.
