Tuesday, October 8, 2013

The (Melting) Snows of Kilimanjaro

Re climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro...we made it to summit shortly after sunrise on August 19th!! Pics are up and since I've postponed this blog post so long and my memory is so terrible, I've chosen to recycle the lovely words of Ellen and Glenn, my fellow hikers...

ELLEN SAYS ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
On Monday, August 19th, at approximately 8:35 a.m., I was the tallest woman, nay person, in Africa *Kathryn says...you should know that Ellen is 6'1" :)*
It all started far down below.  After months of planning and preparation, saving every last shilling, and getting acquainted with our Gladys Adventures guide team (HIGHLY recommend), Glenn (61), Kathryn (26) and I (*Kathryn says, Ellen is also 26*) started our 6-day trek up Mount Kilimanjaro. 

Day 1: 1,800-2,829m: Machame Gate to Machame Camp:  It all started off harder than we thought.  We quickly came to find that not only had we signed up for the most difficult trek on the mountain, Machame Route, we were doing it faster than every other group but one.  At least we were doing it for far cheaper, thank you residence rate.  We started through rainforests, on wonderfully set trails, surrounded by big, green ferns, passing a small waterfall, and hearing the constant echo of birds chatting and monkeys swinging.  The walk was a flip flop with other groups climbing.  We would pass them, they would pass us, and the porters would blow past all of us with amazing speed.  Seriously, being a porter is one of the hardest jobs in the world!  We made extra sure to cheer on, loudly, the sole woman porter on our trail.  We stopped briefly for our box lunch that got chilly after a morning of sweet and cold rainforest air.  Just at the end of our 5-hour hike the trees broke open and we suddenly switched environments to alpine rainforest.  It was there that we found our camp, all set up and waiting for us.  A snack of chai and popcorn followed by a dinner of pumpkin soup, potatoes, avocados, fish, cabbage, tea, and bread with egg in sauce.  Lots of food and lots of liquids (we found) were the key to a successful climb.  Seriously, Gladys Adventures is a BARGAIN.  We were lucky enough to have a beautiful sunset view with the peak behind us.  But once the sun was down we were already getting cold, so on came the fleece jackets, hats, and hot cocoa by our tent heater while Caspar (our main guide) debriefed us and checked out med stats.
*Our med stats (something we found most companies weren’t doing), was a twice a day check on our bowel movements, headache, hydration, nausea, reaction to altitude medication, pulse and oxygen levels, and general ‘how are you feeling?’  We had competitions on who was using the restroom most frequently and how often our altitude meds ‘took us to tingle town.’  (We were lucky in that our only side effect of the medicine was having tingly feet and fingers.)
*Guides: Caspar has had over 150 climbs and made it to the top over 98% of the time.  Prosper (our assistant guide) has had over 100 climbs with an equal success rate.  We also traveled with 13 porters and a cook.
By the end of the day, we were getting to know the climbing community, who loved my Mchagaa name of Mankaa Mushi, were making jokes like ‘mimi peeeeeeeee-a’ (a Swahili pun), and finding out more about our guides.  
 
Day 2: 2829-3837m: Machame Camp to Shira Camp:  After learning the record climb for Kilimanjaro was 8 hours up and down (total), we were feeling silly taking our slow pace.  But as we soon came to find out, whoever did that run was NUTS!  Right from the beginning we climbed at about a 75-degree incline *Kathryn says, what?! She doesn't remember a 75-degree incline until summit night*.  It was a four-hour, rocky route with lots of switchbacks, but offering jaw-dropping 360 views.  Prosper led us for most of the day and we once again ran into more groups and watched in awe as the porters passed us with ease, again.  Caspar was very knowledgeable of all the trees and plants (which Environment Volunteer Glenn LOVED), and once we explained what we did in Tanzania he was all about creating a call and response cheer of ‘PEACE!’  ‘CORPS!’  ‘PEACE!’  ‘CORPS!’  The mazingira was mostly dry and a constant up/down/up/down.  Towards the end we had a few areas we had to take extremely slow because one misstep could send you falling.  The quick altitude climb made us force a lot of water to avoid any headaches, and by the time we got to our next campsite we were SO COLD.  Coming back to America in December is going to be miserable.  At check in all of our levels were good and bowels moving as we broke out the gloves and jackets while the porters played with Glenn’s soccer ball.  We had a quick lunch at site of soup and sandwiches, then took a nap before doing a brief, 1 hour acclimatization climb.  By dinner we reminisced about the other groups we passed including a German couple, the safi Washingtonians celebrating their 15th wedding anniversary, and were freaking out that we could see our breath.  The best quote of the day, however, went to a young American we chatted with on the trail.  His group was doing an 8-day climb and when we said we were doing 6 he responded, ‘isn’t doing the Peace Corps hard enough?  Now you want to climb Kili in 6 days?’  We appreciated this ego boost, greatly.

Day 3: 3837-4637-3976m: Shira Camp to Lava Tower Hut, down to Barranco Camp:  There was frost on the ground!  Frost on the ground!  Despite our freak out about this, the guides went about their business, singing and acting silly throughout the morning.  It really is a fun hiking community on the mountain.  Getting used to the cold was making us slower, however, and we hit the trail 30 minutes past schedule.  Thanks to minimal cloud coverage and singing ‘Sisonge Simunye,’ ‘Tupo pamoja, yebo,’ and ‘Peace Corps,’ we warmed up quickly.’  Our hike quickly turned to alpine desert with scattered black rocks and lots of sand.  The cold start made long underwear officially on for the rest of the trip, but we briefly got warm, before getting really cold, and thoroughly appreciated our hot chai at lunch.  Birds were swooping in all over searching for scraps of food while our demeanor and clothes made us get mistaken for Belgians.  We reached a Lava Tower before descending downhill through moonscapes, icy streams, and back to yesterday’s vegetation of waterfalls and slippery slopes.  Going down so steep so quickly proved hard on my knees (thank you basketball), but with long strides I felt good.  Our guides also weren’t pleased with our slow pace down, so ahead of the group I went with Prosper getting to camp about 30 minutes before my friends.  Our camp was at the bottom of a steep, large hill, and fairly green with streams of water passing through.  Directly to the east was a massive wall called Barranco, and just above Barranco, the summit.  We warmed ourselves up with a luke warm foot bath, change of clothes, hot chai and much needed R&R after a 7 hour hike.  Our red, wind burned cheeks went well with our tired bodies, but our spirits more motivated than ever with the summit so near.
 
Bowel count:  Day 1=1-0-0, Day 2= 0-2-1, Day 3= 4-1-0, to a grand total of Ellen=5, Glenn=3, and Kathryn=1.  *Kathryn says, she is not a travel pooper* In other words, Caspar was very confident we would make it to the top.  Apparently, and seriously enough, the above tends to affect climbers greatly, especially on summit day.
Day 4: 3976-4673m:  Barranco Camp to Barafu Camp:  My Obama cap was ITCHY, but I quickly ignored that fact after realizing that our next step was to climb Barranco wall.  And when I say climb, I mean we climbed like rock climbers.  There was minimal ‘hiking’ the first two hours of this day, including a part where we had to hug the kissing stone and swing our body around with no rope support.  We also found using the restroom is becoming less and less discreet.  The wall was a little more intense than we thought, but by far the most ‘fun’ part of the entire climb.  At the top of Barranco the vegetation had completely vanished, this time for good, and Kili looked like a gingerbread peak with icing dripping down.  After a ten-minute break at the top of the wall we followed a trail that winded up and down and in and out of cloud level.  At one point we descended a steep hill with loose, thick dirt, jumped a river bed, and made a steep climb to Kibo camp where our tent was set up for lunch.  Kibo was not only cold but looked like something out of a Harry Potter movie: no, not the light a fluffy first few, but the whole ‘grey Hogwarts warzone’ in the DH Part 2.  We were in a mist of clouds, shale rock and mist in great anticipation of a midnight ramble to the summit.  After lunch of French fries and salad (when we desperately wanted hot soup) we made the slow, steady climb to our base camp.   Our guides were intentionally slowing our pace and we could really feel the altitude.  Piles of shale rock and quiet stillness joined us for the last walk of the day until we reached Barafu camp.  I was nervous when we arrived as the brief, steep end made it difficult to breath, but the summit looked SO CLOSE that the worry quickly evaporated.  At 5 pm we were force fed the biggest plate of spaghetti I have ever seen in my life, including my short stint working at Buca di Beppo.  Our chef literally watched us eat every last bite to make sure we were getting enough energy for our trip.  Our guides also came in and looked upon us with ‘you eat this or your grounded’ mother eyes as we begrudgingly filled our mouth with more and more pasta.  With our full bellies and strong vitals we went to bed straight away mentally preparing for our midnight climb.
 
*Fun note:  Tanzanians have a hard time saying the word ‘Spaghetti,’ so when we asked what was for dinner they kept saying ‘St. Lucia.’  Highly confused, he finally brought in the noodles where we saw St. Lucia was the name of the company.  Cross-cultural communication at it’s best.

Day 5 ‘THE BIG DAY’: 4673-5895m: Barafu Camp to Uhuru Peak:  READY.TO.GO.  Wake up call in the dark, at 11 pm.  One final restroom break at camp, a little chai, biscuits, and snickers bars ready we started the climb along with the other headlamp wearing trekkers.  The porters stayed behind at the camp (a very small percentage have ever made the final summit day hike), and we bid Barafu a ‘see you later’ while heading up in the near full moonlight.  We quickly found just why it is so hard to climb Kilimanjaro and on the Machame route.  After days of up/down/up/down, technical routes, quick acclimatization, and cold we hadn’t faced in years (for Kathryn and Glenn, ever), our bodies were exhausted.  The climb was a steep start with some points using our hands to climb over boulders.  We noticed the trail of headlamps getting smaller and smaller the higher we went, passing several climbers with severe altitude sickness.  As the moon went down and we reached two hours of no light we definitely had our moments of doubt.  It proved to be a mind game in thin air.  Climbing up volcanic ash at a 60-degree incline for 7 hours; stopping only makes you want to stop more. It was like running a marathon with the sadistic twist of altitude; hitting the wall as your nose drains with snot like a faucet, your snickers bar snack becomes solid frozen, and you are left focusing on the SLOW shuffle of feet from the person in front of you.  At one point Caspar fed me my energy blocks.  Glenn focused on the songs he’s written here in country, while I thought of loved ones and the grand metaphor of climbing while simultaneously finishing my service, and Kathryn was quietly determined to take each step.   Eventually, I just had a complete mentality change where I knew I was getting to the top.  Just as the sun was peaking and the wind chill becoming unbearable, Kathryn was having a really hard time, so words of encouragement, singing of the guides, and a final push got us to Stella Point (5700m) just in time to see one of the most beautiful and satisfying sunrises of my life (at 7:15 am).  We stopped for some chai before continuing the final 1,000 meters to Uhuru Summit Peak (5895m).  

The final walk was counting steps and heavy breathing because we were all so tired and out of it.  With the new light we were able to see the large glaciers (Southern Icefield, Kersten Glacier, Heim Glacier, Decken Glacier and Rebmann Glacier), and had a tantalizingly close view of the peak sign.  When we finally got there I was screaming with delight, Kathryn was crying, and Glenn was serious and reflective.  I came to find later I was the only one to remember reaching the summit, taking the pictures, giving out the hugs and filming all around us.  A few Irishmen who reached the top just before us ‘enjoyed’ a frozen Guiness.  Reaching the top was this incredible euphoria of congratulations and recognitions of a massive feat.  However, after about five minutes you are ready to get down.  Suddenly you remember you can’t breath well, it is really cold, and you feel every inch of exhaustion throughout your body. 
 
I once again sped ahead and left the peak first with Prosper where we waited a bit at Stella point to make sure Kathryn and Glenn were safe with Caspar.  Then it was down, down, down.  To put into perspective how steep it was, we were using our walking poles to ski through the dusty ash for about 3 hours.  If you had to use the bathroom it was out in the bright sun for all to see.  Once we reached a certain altitude I suddenly felt all the fluids I had been drinking and was left to having to ‘chimba dawa’ at the feet of Prosper.  7 hours up and 3 hours down my legs were complete jello.  I had a short burst of energy as it got warmer and we were met by one of our great porters with some juice 30 minutes from camp.  When I arrived to site, an hour before Kathryn and Glenn, I was so elated at the feat we had just completed.  I also realized more than ever just how steep and amazing our morning hike had been.  But this reflection was brief as I quickly and without reservation opened my tent door and passed out on the warm, sun-soaked sleeping pad, in my five layers of completely sweat full clothes.  
 
At 1 we were fed food but none of us had any appetite-this being both a side effect of altitude and being fed portions as big as America for the last 4 days.  Other travelers who had arrived to base camp in the early afternoon were anxious to hear our stories of the top.  Kathryn made fun of my positive recollection to all climbers while she had nothing to say but ‘IT’S FREAKING HARD, don’t listen to her!’  *Kathryn says, sometimes Ellen can be TOO positive :)* Kathryn and Glenn didn’t want to hike anymore while I just wanted to get to a camp where it was comfortable to breath, so we opted out of making the 4-hour hike down to Meza, and went 2 hours down to another camp, Millenial.  I walked ahead with Caspar, feeling better with my long strides and a nice stretch of the legs, while learning more about his life as a guide.  By the time we got to camp the general consensus was ‘we’re done.’  Our clothes smelled, we smelled, we were covered in dust, we were cold, we were tired, and we didn’t want to eat.  We all slept more soundly that night than any other night on the mountain.
 
Day 6:  Down, down, down to tingle town and up and out by 7:30.  We had our final goodbyes with the team, took a group picture and said a ‘thank you’ before the porters packed up.  Sharobabu (Glenn) led the pace, which was nice and steady, but hard on the knees going down so far and so fast.  We stopped to check out the vegetation as it came back to us.  The green was nice to see again after 2 days of grey.  No plants, to heath, to shrubs, to small trees, to full blown rain forest.  (And all of this in 4 hours.)  We passed through Meza camp and even passed other groups before finally making it to a 4X4 road and back to the main gate.  We got a chance to sign in, write our comments, and bask in the glory of summiting.  It would have been miserable and defeating getting to the gate and not having made it to the top.  Our feet were blistered and the porters were all bathing in the open as we jealously watched from afar.  Finally, the Gladys car arrived taking us back to Moshi town, which coincidentally was the same road I ran the marathon.  With money and tips settled back at the office, a hot, glorious shower at our hostel, and tasty, sunset Kilimanjaro beers at a bar rooftop we enjoyed our great end to an adventurous 6-day climb.
 
Would I do it again? 
 
Absolutely. *Kathryn says, Ellen is crazy!*
 
GLENN SAYS ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Kilimanjaro Juu
It’s just a walk in the park, a drop in the old bucket list.  Actually the trek up to the summit at Uhuru Peak was a serious endeavor and something I will never forget. I have always been goal orientated when it comes to fitness. A looming event forces me to stay with a regimen. Triathlons, marathons, bike tours have all held sway over me.  *Kathryn says, Glenn is also a super soccer player and has been involved in the Austin soccer community for years, though it took Peace Corps for us to meet!*  I had been training for some time for this trek, by taking some sweet hikes in Sicily and a daily ramble in my Usambara Mountains.  So hiking to the roof of Africa was my goal. The climate was about to change from equatorial to harsh alpine.  Vegetation would morph from rain-forest to moonscape, and our resolve would be tested.
 
Killie is iconic for Tanzania and all of Africa.  At 5895 meters (19,340 feet) above sea level, it’s   Africa’s highest peak, and the tallest free standing mountain in the world. The image is everywhere, on water and beer bottles, paper products, buses , futball teams, and countless pieces of tourist artwork. I couldn't forget this trek if I wanted to.  It has become popular for a number of reasons. It is not a technical climb, and can be done without ropes. The glaciers are melting and the looming disappearance of the white top may be the biggest reason. 
 
Much has been written about the various routes and challenges each pose.  We chose Machame, which has the highest success rate. We found out later it is beautiful but difficult, and its success can be attributed to more serious climbers using it.  Serious climbers?  I knew my legs were ready, but altitude would be the wildcard factor. I had a great pair of supportive hikers in Ellen and Kathryn. I brought the average age of the trio way up, but they seemed cool with it.
 
Take Me Down To Tingle Town- The altitude meds left of all with tingling extremities. It became a way to judge if they were working or not. Fortunately this was the only side effect. I was impressed with our tour company and the attention they paid to our condition. Heart rate and blood oxygen levels were measured twice a day.
 
Day 1- We started at Machame gate after a short drive through coffee plantations and sweet volcanic soils.  As we started to ascend we were greeted by a dense rain-forest and a nice smooth trail. Our guides Casper and Prosper set an easy slow pace, clearly wanting us to succeed and not burn out early.  Between the two of them, they had reached the summit over 250 times! We flip flopped with several groups on our route. This climb has international appeal with several languages being heard. First camp was over 9,000 feet, higher and colder than I expected. 
 
Day 2- Beautiful long uphill climb all day. This is most scenic part of the trek. It was spectacular with 360 degree views above the cloud line. The food was amazing and our appetites good. Carrot soup rocked. *Kathryn says, the pumpkin soup was better!*  When we got to camp, we went 1 hour higher up for acclimatization.  One couple we keep seeing was on a 15 year anniversary trip, doing it in style.  They were greeted each day to a circle of singing and dancing.  We are greeted by smiles from our hard working crew, food, and directions to the toilet.  Vegetation had changed to heather and moorland.
 
Day 3- Got a late start today, Cold  with frost on the ground, periods of warm, cold, and  hot. Our guides really got into chanting and singing, sensing the pivotal nature of this day.  The vegetation changed a few times as we went up and down. Some creeks, small waterfalls and slippery slopes marked this stretch.  We all climbed at about the same pace, but Ellen blew us away going downhill. Chalk it up to long legs and attitude. We camped at Barranco Wall, at 13,000 feet.
 
Day 4-  Sh*# got real this day. The hike turned into a rock wall climb, with hand holds and some tricky maneuvering up Barranco wall. Vegetation vanished, replaced by strange piles of rocks. Great views of the peak, we are so close now, but so far away. She looked like a giant slice of ginger bread with frosting dripping down her sides. It was a difficult second half of the day through misty rocks to Barafu base camp at over 15,000 feet. Tomorrow is the big day; we were all a bit scared. Our heart rates have gone up and oxygen levels down.
 
Day 5.  I knew what to expect, but not really. After a short sleep, we are up at 11:00pm. We consume a little biscuit and tea and put on all the clothes we have. The last stretch gains about 4,000 feet, it’s cold and dusty and dark. We planned this to have a full moon with us. It appeared in time to make it a beautiful, yet surreal experience. Imagine a hundred lights winding zombie like straight up a moonscape of a mountain, some in front and some behind, like a slow moving river defying gravity. Many didn't make it and were helped back to base camp.  This is where the mind games started for me. I was fine slogging up at a slow death march of a pace until we hit rocks and had to exert more effort. It reminded of mile 20 of a marathon with the sadistic twist of altitude. Slow rhythmic breathing was a chore, hyperventilating was easy.  I sang every song I had every written to myself, then every song I could remember. The time between moon set and sun rise was cruel. Finally I made promises to the old and new gods, nature spirits and anyone who had ever made it to the top.
Stella Point at sunrise is a beautiful sight, as was the sign proclaiming Uhuru Peak a little further ahead. The last bit was exhilarating and difficult, with all the available air already consumed by those who made it here before us. I really don’t remember too much from the top, except taking a picture, and seeing a massive glacier that had a pool of melting water at its base. I delivered on a promise to leave a wristband in memory of a departed friend near the glacier.  I’m sure it was the coldest fellow Austinite Kathryn and I had been in years, if ever.
 
Day 6-We broke camp sill above the clouds and started the journey down, down, down.  I complained about the quick pace and was put in front, which of course made me go faster. Kilimanjaro guides must be part cheerleader and sports psychologist.  The day warmed, as knees got a reverse workout, vegetation reappeared. At the gate our legs were rubber, but spirits soared as we did what we set out to do. I only hope climate change can be slowed or reversed so future generations can experience Mt Kilimanjaro as I have.
 
And finally, my short version of events: --------------------------------------------------------------
First four days were beautiful, with such different scenery every day. The days were long, but the hiking was easier than I was expecting, with very few steep climbs. Summit night changed everything, and that part was really really tough. Like I-don't-know-if-I-can-make-it tough. Hiking in the middle of the night, tired and freezing (seriously), up by far the steepest incline we'd faced. The air was noticeably thinner at this altitude, and about 3 hours into the 7 hour hike I started to really feel the effects of the altitude. Though all three of us were taking the altitude medicine, which seemed to help with our acclimatization the other days, it was no match for this elevation (we still had better luck than some, who were vomiting and diarrhea). I had a raging headache, but far worse was feeling like I couldn't breathe. You seriously cannot imagine how slow we were going, taking just one step per second, and yet you are breathing as hard as if you had just sprinted a mile. It's a bit scary knowing there is just no way to catch your breathe, as you can't possibly go any slower. Then there'd be a rock in the path, and even if it was only one foot high, the extra effort it took to step up to it just about killed me (and Glenn, though Ellen's height and long legs gave her real advantage here) and I'd basically have to collapse on the next rock to rest. I spent the last hour with tears streaming, then quickly freezing, down my face. I only made it up the last 100 yards or so from the encouraging words of Ellen and Glenn and the fact that our guide grabbed my hand and helped me to take those last steps. By the time I reached the top I was slightly disoriented and unfortunately don't remember much of the summit except for standing for a quick picture. Apparently I didn't speak a word for a few hours so I'll chalk that up to a plain lack of energy with some disorientation mixed in. Going down was also no joke! By then my legs were just so dead, and the normal stabilizing muscles that catch you from falling were gone so I ended up falling several times before our guide once again grabbed my arm to help me down the steepest, most slippery parts. It took about 3.5 hours to get down to the highest camp, where we had started the climb at midnight, and we were met with juice and the opportunity for a short nap. I still felt really bad from the altitude, with a terrible headache and unable to eat anything, which didn't go away until the next morning after sleeping at much lower altitude. The following day was pretty short, but all downhill and hard on the knees, so it was a relief to finally reach the base of the mountain, sign a book that says we summited and get a certificate, and head back to town for a hot shower and good meal! Ellen and I have both run a marathon each, and Glenn has run several, and we all agreed climbing Kili was by far the hardest thing we'd ever done. Overall it was a wonderful experience that I'll remember (sort of!) for the rest of my life, and I couldn't have asked for better friends to climb it with. And although I'm so happy I did it, unlike Ellen, I would not choose to do it again!
 
What else...
In mid-September I went do Dar to take my GRE and see the Peace Corps doctor. The GRE went well, despite an hour and a half forced break during the exam as the power was out and the back-up generator was being fixed. I ended up having to stay longer than expected for medical, so I got last minute approval to ferry on over to Zanzibar for the weekend, rather than just sitting around in Dar. My besties from Dodoma, Ellen and Nora, were also in Dar for medical appointments so they got to join me. It was perfect timing to celebrate my finishing the GRE and Nora's recent engagement and we had a great girls weekend of shopping and beach time! Then I had one final appointment with my doctor on Monday (all is fine), and headed back to Dodoma the following day to get back to work.

About the United States government shutting down...
Since Peace Corps is a federal agency we have been affected by the shutdown. For now they've decided that, although we aren't exactly essential employees, Peace Corps Volunteers are still "on". Basically we're extremely cheap labor, and it would cost tax payers an estimated $29 million to evacuate every volunteer back to the states (and of course then to return to their sites following the end of the furlough), not to mention the negative effects that would have on Peace Corps' reputation abroad. In the case of continued shutdown, this will supposedly be re-evaluated after 2 weeks; we have had to provide PC with info about the closest airport to our home of record, just in case, but I'm guessing we're safe. Job security, yeah! Luckily all most all of our staff in Tanzania are unaffected, with just one American temporary staff member furloughed. However, all but the most essential staff at HQ in Washington were furloughed, so everything from approving grant funding to approving extension jobs are all on hold at the moment. Pretty weird stuff. On the up side, talking to my Tanzanian friends about how the most powerful government in the world cannot manage to function, how frustratingly ridiculous Republicans are (having a hard time being unbiased here...), etc. has been pretty interesting cultural exchange. Although we are living in Tanzania, often without power and water, we can at least count on a functioning government. Shame on you, America; get your shit together!
 
Speaking of America, I'll officially finish my Peace Corps service on December 12. In PC speak we say "get your R", going from a PCV to RPCV (Returned Peace Corps Volunteer). I'll fly out of Dar on the 12th, overnight in Qatar, and be back to Austin the night of the 13th! I can't believe my service is almost to a close; with the next two months consumed with work, grad school applications, and goodbyes, before I know it I'll be finishing my service and headed back to the states. See y'all soon!