Pofu to 2nd Cave (Day 4) (15th Feb 2011)

It almost feels like Columbus, OH.  It has been raining all night and we start off on the trek to 2nd Cave in pouring rain.  Today was an easy day, descending down to 11,800 ft at the camp.  Our first stop was the third cave where we had lunch.  Hate losing the altitude gained with all that pain, only to start climbing again in the next few days.  Descending is not any easier than climbing, and at times feels a lot harder.  The soil is mainly volcanic and the rocks are rough and coarsely pitted.  We pass a few dried river beds and a few areas where glaciers held sway in years past.  Now all that remained where moraines, with glacial debris strewn across the floor.  This was probably the "snow" that Rebmann first saw on November 10th 1848.

Johannes Rebmann is credited with the first sighting of Kilimanjaro by a European.  Johannes Rebmann was a German missionary, who along with his lifelong friend and fellow missionary, Johannes Ludwig Krapf were some of the earliest Europeans in Easter Africa.  On their earlier travels they had heard of a mountain "capped with silver".  They had no idea what that meant.  When Rebmann first saw the majestic mountain, the natives called Kilimanjaro, he still had trouble fathoming what all that white was on the summit; after all, in his mind, he was at or very near the equator and hence it could not be snow.  His guide did not know either and said it was, "baridi" or coldness.  It was then that Rebmann realized that the white was snow.  The reports of snow in Equatorial Africa was not well received in Europe, where there was plenty of skepticism, especially by the "experts" on Africa, some of whom had not even been to Africa.  Rebmann was vindicated when Europeans actually went up the mountain and confirmed the presence of snow.  He was honored by the French Societe Geographie and also the National Geographic Society.

Sometime during the morning the rain eased and it was mostly cloudy and then sunny for a short while.  There were a few good views of Kibo during this time.  The weather changes to fog by the time we arrive at the camp.

At 2nd cave we are back to the heather and moorland zone from the alpine desert.  There are signs of cape buffalo but no sign of the critters themselves.  The skull of a cape buffalo is prominently displayed at the entrance of the cave.  How it got there, I have not idea.  The caves are not used to camp in.  Animals lick the salt off the rocks in the caves and cohabitation with some of these creatures might not be mutually beneficial.

  

 Renee is feeling better today.  The denser air is doing her good and her face is healing.  The food is great as usual.  Dinner consisted of Spinach soup, rice and beef in coconut milk, fruit and dessert (yes we had desserts) was banana fritters.  Now isn't that cool or what.  

Moir Hut to Pofu (Day 3) (14th Feb)

It was raining when I had drifted off to sleep.  It was cold this morning.  I woke up before Adam's and Innocent's usual wake-up call and was in the process of rolling up the sleeping bag, inflatable pad and repacking the bags when my back came into contact with the side of the tent and I could hear this peculiar sound of something sliding down the side of the tent.  Now, what could that be?  I found out soon enough when the Adam entered the "foyer" with the coffee.  Snow, and plenty of it.  We started off that morning with the snow still falling and visibility limited to less than 50 yards.  Bernard had shown us the route the evening before and I remember asking him whether it was absolutely necessary to "climb up there."  Couldn't we just walk around the hill, especially since we were descending to 18,200 ft at Pofu.  The path, what little we could see of it that morning appeared to be even more steep.  We clambered over wet rocks in nasty conditions to a new height of 14200 ft.  That was not easy.  It soon stopped snowing, but the sky remained overcast.  Bernard asked us to wear our dark glasses.  One does not realize it but the snow is awfully bright and the glasses were absolutely essential unless a spot of snow blindness was in one's request list.



It was a six hour walk to lunch. (You know I would time that).  About midday Bernard asks Ken and me to go ahead at a faster pace with G'Love.  Renee was having trouble walking.  Ken, G'Love (Goody), Prosper and I set off at a faster pace.  Arriving at the bottom of a rather steep slope we had a rest stop when Goody and Prosper put on an impromptu recital!  "Jambo! Jambo Bwana! Habari gani, Mzuri Sana, Wageni, Mwakaribishwa, Kilimanjaro, Hakuna Matata …"

And these guys have rhythm in their genes.  Ken joins in … It does not take very long before the rarified atmosphere makes us curtail the entertainment.  A little short of breath we make our way to the rendezvous with lunch.  Just as we get there, I realize the bottom end of one of my trekking poles fallen off somewhere.  Prosper, the great guy he is, immediately sets off to find it, re-tracing our footsteps.  I felt terrible.  The guy did not even have lunch.  He was gone a while but soon caught up with us with the missing tip. Bernard had found it and handed it to him.  He just walked over to me and handed the tip to me with just a hint of a smile.  People here send a lot of time on greetings, hands clasped exchanging news and conversing for minutes on end.  Not so when it comes to expression of appreciation. Someone, not well versed with the local culture might take offense, as they barely nod their head with a mumbled, "Asante" (Thank you).  It's not that they are not grateful, its just the way of their people.

Pofu camp was a total of about seven and a half hours trekking.  It was a welcome sight.  The girls catch up about an hour and a half later.  Renee is absolutely exhausted.  She's shaking like a leaf and has a bad cough.  I suspect its due to broncho-spasm.  After talking to Bernard I give her a dose of Advair and that helps.  She has very little dinner.  The pumpkin soup was awesome.  Richard had also cooked up one helluva lasagna.  I am not very fond of lasagna, since, for a few years in the early 90's I had been brought up on a diet of hospital canteen made lasagna, which left, forever, a distaste for the dish.  So, it was with much trepidation that I served myself a small helping.  It was good, really good.  And it was unfortunate that, except for my small helping and an even smaller serving that Renee and Norah had, the dish was returned untouched.  Renee's face is also badly sun-burnt.  And I had drugs for everything under the sun except burns.  I later gave her a tube of Analpram, and I am glad to report that it did wonders to her face.  I had only heard the rumors of Preparation-H being used for facial application, and this was my first experience in this off-license application of the drug.

Shira 1 to Moir Hut (Day 2)

I could hear Adam's kettle clink before he got to my tent.  He "wakes" me up with a, "Good morning, would you like tea or coffee?" as he unzips the foyer of the tent and squats down with his array of cups, tea, coffee and sugar in his small plastic tray and proceeds to pour me a cuppa.  It had rained most of the night and the ground was damp.  We set off around 8am.  As per the schedule given to us prior to the trip this was going to be another easy 3-hour walk.  But the evening before Bernard had suggested that we push on to Moir Hut and skip Shira 2 camp, a trek of just over 6 hours.  Moir Hut was our 3rd camp, but now it was going to be our 2nd.  The plan was to later split a later trek in two which would make it easier on us.  Moir Hut was at about 13800 ft.  This was a grueling trek.  I had not walked for 6 hours in a long time, and then you add in the altitude to boot and it was not easy.  But the easy pace is what makes it possible.

We trek steadily East and Northward through the heather and on to the high altitude alpine desert.  The Shira plateau is one of the highest in the world with an average height of 12500ft and extends for about 8 miles to the West of Kilimanjaro.  The plateau is a caldera, a collapsed volcanic crater.  Shira was the first of three volcanos here, Kibo and Mawenzi being the other two.  About 500,000 years ago Shira blew for the last time  and its cone collapsed some time later.  The crater was then filled with lava flowing West from Kibo as it started its fireworks.  Many years back it was not uncommon to see elephants, cape buffalo and even lions here.  But now all we saw were the occasional piles of cape buffalo dung, and also one with a signature hoof print right in the middle.  Not that I was in any way interested in seeing one of those ill-tempered creatures,  not without the right equipment, if you catch my drift.

I was pretty tired when we got to the Moir Hut.  Tired, but not exhausted.  I lay in the tent thinking, "Dang, what have I got myself into?"  (But that was also the last time that thought crossed my mind) Well, dinner was great as usual, and that cheered us up a bit.  Renee started to feel out of sorts this evening after dinner.  Bernard, Ken and I walk over to the Moir Hut, a tepee-like structure made of plywood, originally built to accommodate climbers, but long since abandoned, its skin peeling off and ripped wide open in places.  It's a picturesque place, situated at the bottom of a lava flow, with towering walls of rocks on both sides.  It rained most of that evening so we did nothing much.  

Day 1

I really don't remember what time I woke up.  It was still quite early and the sun was not up yet.  I was hoping to see the bushbuck to take a few photographs, but he probably had other ideas and did not humor me.  Last night was a cacophony of noises.  It almost felt as if the entire neighborhood, in the wild animal sense, was having a party outside the tent.  There were so many noises and cries I did not know whether it was a bird or an animal.  Drinks must have been on the house as they sure were having fun.
The camp was just stirring when I made my way to the "front desk" and got me some coffee and biscuits (cookies).  By the time I was done with the coffee my shower was ready.  This was going to be the last shower I was going to be taking for the next ten days.  I hated the prospect of a shower-free ten days;  a white-tail buck in Ohio would probably be able to scent me all the way across the Atlantic.  What about my  new found friends?  What were they going to think?  Oh well, they were going to be in the same boat, so I suppose it was not going to matter much.  I had very quietly asked Bernard, the day before whether anyone shaved while on the trip.  His answer to me was, "Jas, if you shave, you will be the first to shave on the mountain."  Well, that put paid to that.  Everyone will just have to get used to seeing my scruffy beard.
The large duffel bag was to weigh not more than 30lbs.  That wasn't too difficult.  I left most of the electronics: laptop, Ipad and chargers in my suitcase I intended to leave with Thomson.  My back pack, though, felt as if it weighed a ton.  Withe the extra camera batteries and other stuff it weighed in at about 20lbs. No problem.

We set off on the road to Londorossi Gate, a trip that was about an hour and a half.  We bumped along winding gravel roads, past a few check-posts, even one with a few guys, military personnel, I am told, with AK 47s.  All along the roads were children tending to their herds of goats or, if they were a little older, in their teens, their small herds of cattle.  Here and there were youngsters in black rather than the colorful, predominantly red Masai blankets.  These guys have been recently circumcised.  Not something anyone would want to go through as its done with a sharp knife and NO anesthetic (forget about asepsis).  And the poor kid has to endure the procedure in silence.  If he should make a noise it brings dishonor although only temporarily.  They even stay in a hut made by their mother, separate from the rest of the village and to further emphasize their passage onto adulthood this hut, known as a manyatta is not surrounded by a protective barrier.

Londorossi Gate

Londorossi Gate has been likened to a Wild West outpost a few wooden buildings surrounded by a high fence in the middle of nowhere.  Today it's abuzz with activity.  There are dozens of mini buses and Land Rovers, all bringing climbers and their teams together.  Here we meet up with Bernard, sign in at the desk and quickly move out to Moram Barrier gate, a 55 minute ride through a dusty trail that takes us to 12000ft.  We see a few colobus monkeys and stop to take pictures.  "Colobus" in Greek means mutilated and they are so named for the stump they have for a thumb.  They are one of the "old world" monkeys.  They are also mostly arboreal and rarely come down to the ground.

Colobus Monkeys

After meeting with the rest of the team, including Godlove (Goody or G-love as we called him), our assistant guide and Prosper my personal porter and a quick lunch at Moram Gate we begin our trek.  Goody leads the way.  What strikes us immediately is the pace.  Its slow, very slow.  A step every second or so, with one foot place barely ahead of the other.  Damn, I though we would never make it to the grocery store, let alone the mountain.  I was later to learn the mountain was a lot closer than the closest grocery!!  It's an easy trek.  The terrain was gentle and mostly "flat" until we come across a fissure in the earth.  Ah ha! I knew there was a trick somewhere.  Do we walk along the gorge till we come across a narrow section and then jump across?  No such luck.  We make our way down to the bottom, cross a small tributary of the Engare Nairobi North and up again on the other side.  We crossed four such fissures today, the last one if which was right at the Shira1 camp.  Kilimanjaro is a long way off to the South West and with the clouds and mist covering its upper slopes it looks menacing.

There's really nothing much to do once darkness sets in.  So it was off to bed after dinner.  I had my Kindle with me as I figured that its battery would easily last for the duration of the trip and I did not have to choose between books to save on weight.  I read something each night and wrote my journal and then drifted off to sleep with the gentle drumming of rain on the tent and an occasional clap of thunder in the distance…

Ndarakwai Ranch

The sun streaming into the tent woke me up.  It was a beautiful sight.  There was thick bush all around the tent and I got out of the bed to get my camera, not to miss the mystical morning light.  I had just got to the lounge chair where I had left the cameras when I noticed a movement from the corner of my eye.  There was something out there in the bush.  I grabbed the video camera as I realized that it was a male bushbuck cautiously making its way towards my tent.  I had never seen one in the wild and I was excited. They are known to be very shy and elusive.  I crept up to the net-like sides of the tent and turned the camera on.  The bushbuck froze with the beep of my camera turning on, and so did I.  A few seconds later it continued its progress towards me.  The video is crappy as its taken through the tent.  A few more steps and it turns to the left and moves off into the bush again.

There are rules here for washing up.  The tap water is ok for your hands but to brush your teeth you better use the bottled water provided for drinking.  And taking a shower was a whole different matter.  When you are ready for a shower you go over to the front "desk" and you request water.  This is then brought over to the tent in a large bucket and emptied into a canvas bag connected to the shower head by a plastic pipe.  The bag is then raised above the tent by a set of pulleys and left there.  In the bathroom there is an "On"/"Off" "switch" which you activate by pulling a short length of string.  And this results in an anemic stream of hot water.  The water drains out through the floor to settle into a puddle under the tent.

Breakfast was good as were the rest of the meals.  We had the company of a small family of blue-faced monkeys through most of the day.  Their faces are not really blue, its just they don't have much hair on their face and therefore it looks blue.

  Must be the local colorectal specialist

We had our first briefing this morning and were introduced to our main guide Bernard.  He is a youthful guy who has summited more than a hundred times.  He's quiet and self assured and a very likable guy.  We also pick up all the gear we had rented from Thomson.

Later in the evening we go for a nature walk, led by our Masai guide, Nicole.  I half expected her to be wearing a traditional Masai dress, but she looked just fine in a t-shirt and jeans.  Accompanying us was a local game guide armed with a shot gun with a folding stock.  I wanted to take a look at the gun, but he seemed a little reluctant to let go of his toy, and I did not press it as he spoke little English.  There were a lot of plains game, including zebra, wart hogs, baboons, blue wildebeest, giraffe and a whole herd of eland.  There was among them a nice mature bull, beautiful blue coat and an impressive dewlap.  The eland are the largest of the antelope, weighing in at about 1700 lbs and stands about 5ft 7" at the shoulder.  They make a characteristic clicking sound when they walk.  There's a lot of debate as to the origin of the sound, with some thinking it comes from bones in the ankles, and others think that it's the clicking of the hooves as they come together after being splayed by the enormous weight of the animal as it walks.  I have heard an éland coming at night when it was still about ten minutes away.  And in spite of its weight it can clear a 12 foot fence from a standing jump.

We had a beer at the tree house at the end of the day and it was back to the ranch for supper and an early night.  I nearly forgot about the sky.  The sky at night in Africa is like nothing we see in the US.  All those millions and millions of stars is just breathtaking.  The Milky Way forms a beautiful swathe through the heavens and one could spend the entire night just watching the stars go by.  Ken, being from New York City had never seen anything like this before and was quite excited when he saw his first satellite tonight.

Tomorrow we set out.

Columbus to Arusha

Check-in at Columbus was a breeze.  The flight to Detroit was short and smooth.  Rested for a few hours in the Delta Lounge.  The fire-alarm goes off and half the people clear out.  After about a half hour of the cacophony of the alarm it turns out that it was a water main break.  Now why the hell would the fire alarm go off with a water main break?
There is a Japanese Restaurant on the A Concourse right by Gate 35 that serves some good sushi.  I have always gone by this place and ordered Unadon.  Its grilled fresh-water eel coated with a sweet sauce served on rice.  Its awesome.
Anyway the flight to Amsterdam was uneventful with the same charming ineptitude that we who fly Delta or any of the other US airlines have gotten so used to.  Arrival at Schipol Airport (or more correctly Amsterdam Airport Schipol as its written in Dutch) was on time.  Sitting by the window I strained to see the terminal.  Well, there was nothing nearby that looked like a terminal.  Must be on the other side, I thought.  Taxiing to the terminal took for ever.  I remember passing over a couple of motorways, a few county roads, and was that a farm house we just passed?  I later find out that this runway, the latest addition to the airport is just less than 5 miles from the control tower!!  No bloody wonder that it took that long to get there.  I remember thinking that it must have been in the next county over and it sure is.  Schipol is a welcome change to the normally impersonal atmosphere of most large airports.  It has a small museum with a few of the Dutch masters exhibited.  Right next to this a small library and one that is dedicated to children.  There's even a massage area where you can get a full-body water massage.  No, you don't have to scare away any of your fellow passengers.  You slip into this contraption fully clothed and they shut it over your body leaving your head and neck outside rigged up to an MP3 player and enjoy the massage to your favorite Dutch tunes.
Coming from the US with all the fast food and cheap food, the cost of food here is quite dear.  Six bucks for a small cup of coffee, damn that's steep.  The croissants and pastries are good.  And the fresh fluffy omelets are just to die for.
I get to the Gate.  There are two hundred odd passengers there waiting to board the Boeing 777-300 and its always a full flight between Amsterdam and Arusha.  I scan my fellow passengers, trying to identify my fellow climbers.  I still have no idea who I am climbing with.  I am looking for two ladies and a guy. There was this guy who was sitting not twenty feet from me.  The logo on the label hanging on his back pack is hanging with the address-side towards me.  He has good shoes, the climbing kind, he is reading a book on Mt. Kenya.  He's got to be the one.  In Europe you go through the metal detection/ body scanner process at each gate and while in line I approach the guy and find out that he was indeed the ONE!!  He is Ken, a 33 year old guy who lives in New York City and works for the Federal Reserve.  We get talking.
The flight to Arusha is about 8 hours and 20minutes.  The fight was punctual as usual.  The service was also a welcome departure from that in the US.  The stewardesses actually smiled and were universally pleasant during the entire flight.  On a long flight that makes all the difference.
We get to Arusha at 2130 hours.  It takes another hour to clear customs and get our bags.  Ken and I walk out to the guy holding the "Thomson Safari" banner and meet up with our driver , Joseph, and the two ladies: Renee and Norah, both from Austin, TX and accountants to boot.  Man, all these finance people and one poor butt doc!!  I feel terribly outnumbered.  While waiting in line for immigration clearance, the power goes off twice and once again while waiting for our luggage.  Welcome to Africa.
We head out to Ndarakwai Ranch, a two and a half hour journey, first over paved roads and then its just dirt roads over the next hour and a half.  We bump around in the Land Rover, thankfully with empty stomachs.  We were welcomed with traditional African hospitality, had a quick bite to eat and then were shown to our permanent tents.  It was cool, comfortable and everything I thought it was going to be.
Sleep came quite quickly...