 Climbing
Mt. Kilimanjaro
Story and Photos by John R. M. Wilson
To book an expedition to Kilimanjaro can involve several intermediaries. For our hike from January 3-8, 2010, Bob Oehlman and I started with Adventure Center in Emeryville, CA, who in turn hooked up with Exodus Travel in London, who set up the trip with The African Walking Company in Arusha, Tanzania. It was the latter outfit that provided our hands-on experience after extensive internet and phone negotiations with the first two companies.
There are at least seven routes up Kilimanjaro: Shira and Lemosho from the west, Machame from the southwest, Umbwe and Mweka from the south, Marangu (the Coca-Cola route) from the southeast, and Rongai from the north. Different length hikes are available on the different routes, with more days meaning better acclimatization and thus greater hope for success. We selected the Rongai route and a six-day round trip, in part because Vivian Wong, our Adventure Center consultant, had made that trek and could recommend it. The cost for the expedition was around $2400.
 That price includes over $600 for access to the park, a major source of revenue for Tanzania. Hikers must pay that fee and hire a local outfit like The African Walking Company to assist their climb, a requirement that provides substantial employment opportunities in the region. For our party of ten-one from Canada and the other seven from England-we had support from 36 people, including five guides, a cook, 22 porters, and eight helping porters. So the system benefits many constituencies-hikers, the government of Tanzania, and local young men, along with hotels and other tourist facilities around the starting points. Once the hikers have left camp in the morning, porters take down their tents (except for the Marangu route, which has "posh" huts along the way), pack them up along with their duffle bags and a mess tent, and hustle past the hikers struggling up the mountain to set up camp. When the exhausted hikers arrive at their day's destination, their two-man tents are already set up, along with a mess tent with tables and chairs, room to sit down out of the rain for a hot meal. For those used to fending for themselves on backpacking trips, the system seems incredibly luxurious.
 Bob and I flew out of Los Angeles at 9 a.m. on December 31 on Continental, changed planes in Houston and flew overnight to Amsterdam, where we caught an 11 a.m. KLM flight direct to Kilimanjaro International Airport between Arusha and Moshe on the south side of the mountain, of which we never glimpsed more than hints because of cloud cover. Landing at 9:30 p.m., which precluded an aerial view of our target, we took a shuttle to Kia Lodge, one kilometer from the airport, and tried to sleep through the night, with minimal success because of jet lag. The next morning we connected with our London group at the airport and took an African Walking Company van with our luggage around 30 miles northeast past Moshe to Marangu, a town of 9000, where we were installed in the Kilimanjaro Mountain Resort, an impressive hotel (despite intermittent power outages) with internet access so we could inform family that we had made it this far. That evening our AWC contact briefed us on what to expect and we settled in for our last comfortable night for awhile.
 Day One. In the morning we met up in the hotel lobby and departed from the hotel in Toyota Land Rovers, fighting our way through muddy roads around the eastern side of the (still invisible) mountain, picking up a paved road halfway around, and arriving at our 6395' departure point around noon. There we met our guides and our baggage was assigned to porters and we headed up the mountain, through occasional rain (it rained every day part of the time). We stopped for a box lunch an hour in, then pushed on about five miles to the edge of the Moorland zone at 8500' to find our camp set up, along with several other groups' in something of a tent village. Hot tea (pump those liquids in) and a rest, then a brief hike up and down to get us used to the altitude, then a hot dinner. Food and preparation wherewithal were trekked in and plentiful food, especially great soups, kept us fueled. Porters took water from streams or lakes and boiled it so that we had drinking water (try to drink three liters a day, which I couldn't do) and washing water. After an evening briefing, we went to our two-man tents and had a fitful night's sleep, still fighting jet lag.
 Day Two. Up for tea. Washing, and breakfast, with a clear view of the mountain briefly available in sunshine to inspire us before it hid behind clouds for the day. We hiked about six miles, gaining in elevation to 11,800' at Kikelawa Caves. Steady rain in the morning, combined with jet lag, lack of sleep, and high altitude, made for a glum bunch in the noon mess tent. It was tough to go out in the rain after lunch, but we did and were rewarded with drier weather for the afternoon stretch. Again we camped in a sea of tents-est. population of hikers, guides, and porters about 200 in the area. Hot dinner, briefing, and off to bed to sleep as well as possible.
 Day Three. We hiked about seven miles, striking out east of the Rongai trail to afford us an extra day of acclimatization. We camped just below the north side of Mawenzi Peak, a jagged, rugged piece of rock intermittently visible through changing clouds. Mawenzi Tarn is at 14,200'. We crashed for awhile and regrouped, then bounced up and took a no-packs, no-sticks climb up to a ridge on the west side of Mawenzi, passing my previous highest elevation, Mt. Whitney's 14, 494'. That little hike was a big morale booster-no rain, view of Kibo (the main volcanic summit of Kilimanjaro), and new energy. Dinner, briefing, and bed.
 Day Four. Today's hike was about five miles and only took us up to 15,400' at Kibo huts, the kicking off point for summiting day. We hiked back to the Rongai trail and then across the moonscape saddle to Kibo, having a good view of it and the route to the summit for awhile until the clouds came in and had us hiking in pea soup. We did get a look at a Kenyan Airlines four seater wreck from last year beside the trail, reminding us that this hiking was not hazard free. After about six hours of slogging, we reached our tents at Kibo hut area and had to sign in at their register. We were fed a lunch around 2, told to sleep a couple of hours (good luck!),then fed dinner (carbohydrates and tea), briefed, and sent to bed by 8 for three hours of attempted sleep before the wakeup call for the killer day.
 Day Five. Woke at 11 p.m. and we had breakfast (what will that do to our jet lag adjustment?), and at 12:30 we set out with headlamps to our rendezvous with the summit. For six long, desperate hours we slogged along, warned just to look at the feet of the person in front of us and keep walking (pole pole, pronounced poli, poli, or slowly, slowly). When I looked up I was indeed demoralized, as the guides are trying to keep us positive (positive attitude, lots of water, and pole pole are t he three keys to success). Lights on headlamps stretched above us up the steep slope to the sky, where they merged with the stars in what seemed like a truly infinite long haul. I had no problems with altitude sickness, but my will wavered and for a few hours I wondered if it was worth going on. We had three decent breaks along the way, and once we passed the halfway point, I was resolved to make it. Had my i-pod not died on me, music might have made the stretch more bearable-thinking about my misery was not encouraging! We were approaching Gilman Point on the rim (c. 18,740') when we were able to revel in a gorgeous sunrise stretching across the sky and saluting us as we reached the roof of Africa. All ten of our party arrived at Gilman Point around 6:35, exhausted beyond measure, exulted, and then, somewhat to my surprise, six of us headed for the final stretch, about a mile around to the south edge of the volcano rim at Uhuru Peak, the true summit at 19, 340'. We were on a narrow snowy, slippery trail just on the inside of the crater for half of that, then fighting our way up another 600', drawing on untapped resources to push on to the summit, which we reached about 9 a.m. I jumped in the air and kicked my heels together in delight. After pictures and a brief rest, we headed back down, hitting Gilman Point at 10:20, then scree skiing (sliding down a few yards at a time on the side of our feet) most of the way back down to Kibo huts, getting back to our base camp at 12:30 for lunch and a one-hour totally-exhausted lie-down. Then we had to move out to make room for the next day's summiteers and hike seven miles down the Coca Cola route to Horombo huts, way down at the 12,200' level. After briefing and dinner, we went to bed and slept our first good night's sleep of the trip-exhausted and exhilarated and beyond the anxiety of wondering if we would make it. We had done it!
 Day Six. Down the Coca Cola trail, at this point crushed rock like a park, for 12 miles across chaparral to Mandara huts, where we stopped for a box lunch, and then on through tropical rain forest to Marangu gate, getting there about 1:30 at a comfortable 6000' elevation. Bought a souvenir t-shirt at the shop there. We were hauled back to Kilimanjaro Mountain Resort, where we checked back in and had hot showers and exulted when a downpour couldn't touch us-we were out of the rain. Hours in the bar enjoying being clean and done, then a buffet dinner and a solid night's sleep. E-mailed home with the news of our success.
 Day Seven. The next morning seven of our party headed west to Arusha National Park for a safari, finding to our surprise that our African Walking Company driver was also our safari guide (not awfully articulate in English). Lots of zebras, giraffes, and baboons, but no lions or elephants, so we were a bit let down. Still, that killed time till we went to the airport. Caught a 10:30 flight on a KLM 777 to Dar es Salaam, thence overnight to Amsterdam, arriving around 8. Switched back to Continental for flight to Houston and Los Angeles, with security intense in Amsterdam due to Christmas bomber attempt on Amsterdam to Detroit flight. We were each interviewed, patted down, and our carry-ons checked carefully. At last we were off for another 9-hour flight, a check-in through customs in Houston, and a jam-packed 757 on to LA. In all the return trip entailed over 32 hours in airports and airplanes, but a rousing welcome at home was energizing, and a reminder that, as that famous philosopher Dorothy Gale once said, "there's no place like home!"
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