Kill-A-Man-jaro Part Deux

And now for the long awaited sequel to the Kilimanjaro climb, sorry to keep you all in suspense.

Days 4, 5, 6 & 7

On days 4 to 6 we climbed Kilimanjaro, and on day 7 we came back down again, and everyone rejoiced.

Fin.

Okay, okay.  I will give you slightly more detail, but only slightly.

Day 4

We wake up to fine weather for a change, the clouds have conveniently settled at a lower altitude.  Time for a bit of a happy dance.

This morning it is time to tackle the Baranco Wall, or "Breakfast Wall", which we are advised by Musa is a "Piece of Cake".  Not sure what sort of shitty cake they are used to here, because it was anything but a piece of cake.  It was, however, one of the funnest climbs as you get to do a bit of scrambling up rocks.

Along the way we have stumbled upon a group of 20 or so 'older' German trekkers, I have coined them the German Grandparents League (GGL).  The GGL are always walking with their two walking poles no matter how flat and unnecessary it is, at about 1km/day, and do not carry their own daypacks.  As a result, they have a bazillion porters because they need their regular porters, and daypack porters.  The daily challenge is to ensure you pass them (they always leave earliest...) before you reach a bottle neck.  The Baranco wall is such a bottle neck.  We make it in front of them just in time, before they jam the whole wall up for the next half an hour.

Here we are at the top:

You may notice I am looking particularly ridiculous today, with my soft-shell jacket, short black shorts, then long black thermals, and beige trekking socks pulled up high.  What a fashion statement, Dad will be so proud (it's how he always wears his socks!).

Some fantastic views of the mountain.

Jumping for joy:

[Note for Simon - you have reduced the size of these too much and they look crap, please provide me with higher quality photos in future.]

Time to get a bit zen:

That's not zen enough Simon, try harder.

That's better.

We arrive at Karanga Camp in time for lunch.  Let's see what's on the menu for day 4.

Chicken, chips, and coleslaw.  Three of my favourite foods, but I am becoming a little concerned with the amount of meat they continue to serve.  This is day four, and I don't recall seeing any of the porters with a Kelvinator on their head.  I suppose it has been reasonably cold most of the way... except for that scorching hot first day when everything sat in the sun at ground level for several hours...

We go for a bit of an acclimatisation walk, I think this is a photo looking back at our camp.

Mum you will be pleased to see I am wearing plenty of sunscreen.

Toilet report

1. Smell - pretty good
2. Diameter - on the larger size, and with an innovative 'key hole' shape to aid in collecting wayward streams
3. Bench - sadly gone again from the toilets
4. Means of stabilisation - also not really possible here, but quads/glutes (whichever muscles do this) are now rock solid and I can squat for days.

2/4.  On we go.

Day 5

Final day of trekking to base camp, all we need to do is cross this valley:

I don't recall anything interesting happening this day.  And I certainly haven't bothered photographing it.  In hindsight I probably should have at least taken a photo looking up at Kilimanjaro to give an idea of the scale of the climb remaining, but I didn't.  Basically from base camp, at 4600m, you have another 1300m to get to the summit.  It's like climbing a mountain, and then being told you have to climb another mountain straight away.

Today ends pretty early, we have lunch, a quick acclimatisation walk, and then try to get as much sleep before attempting the summit climb this evening.

Toilet report

Almost forgot, but it would be a shame to leave one out.

1. Smell - god awful.  The first one I go to I literally can't walk into without dry reaching.  I go in search of another one and am rewarded with one that comparatively should be bottled as perfume, a new meaning to Eau de Toilette.  Still giving it 0 points for this though.
2. Diameter - average, although it appears people are struggling with aim here, perhaps the altitude is finally getting to them?  Will give it half a point.
3. Bench - nope
4. Means of stabilisation - nope

0.5/4 toilet, worst of the trip.

Day 6 – Summit Night

So Day 6 is really the night time of day five.  Generally people are woken at about 10/11 to commence their climb.  Simon and I appear to be setting a fairly solid pace, and all our vital signs are good (heart rate ~60s, blood oxygen >90, pretty sure Musa’s device for measuring this was just displaying random numbers, but he seemed convinced these were good and reliable results), so it is decided we can sleep a little more and commence our climb closer to 1am.

We wake up at about 11:45 to start getting ready, time to suit up!  Simon, taking inspiration from the Marines, commences his mantra “The Tripodman’s Creed”

“This is my tripod. There are many like it, but this one is mine. My tripod is my best friend. It is my life. I must master it as I must master my life…”

Prayer time is over, we are ready to roll after a picture with Simon, the tripod, and I:

And a night shot of the task ahead courtesy of the tripod:

Some of you may recall my winter fashion shown in the first blog entry.  Well, this is the time for the “Outdoor Research'” branded ‘soft-shell technology’ to shine.  Despite the assertions by the K2 salesman that my clothing required only 1 layer of thermals beneath, + gloves + beanie to walk at 6000m in twenty-degree-below-FREEZING temperatures, I err on the side of caution and double up on thermals.

After a cup of tea, and a couple of biscuits we set off.  We aren’t allowed a large meal before leaving to avoid regurgitating it at higher altitudes.  Really regret not arguing this, because I had no nausea, but was extremely hungry the whole way up!

The walk is steep, the steepest we have done for the entire trip.  Despite setting out last from camp, Musa, Simon and I overtake all others in our path, including the GGL.  Musa speaks with the other guides as we pass them in Swahili.  Later he tells us that the other guides are asking what we do if we are able to so easily walk up this mountain, most assume we are soldiers.  I’ll be honest, I still can’t tell whether Musa is telling us these things to try and increase the “tip” we have the “option” of paying at the end, or if he is serious.  But we did pass everyone on the way, so maybe he is half serious.

While there is no rain on the way, we get unlucky with the wind, which is extremely strong and icy.  As we ascend higher the temperature drops further and further. It is here I realise that I have been the victim of either supreme salesmanship, or incredible incompetence, and I’ll never know which.

Clothing should only perform ONE function

So, below is the Venn diagram of cold weather gear as described to me by “Steve” from K2, who at the time I was more than willing to put my entire life into his hands.  (“Steve”’s name has not been changed, to ensure his identity is anything but protected)



So, for a superior price, I could receive the superior jacket and pants which were capable of being warm, rainproof, windproof, and breathable, and apparently so warm that I would only need to wear thermals (K2 branded of course) below this, and I would be as warm as a wonton. (? not sure on that simile)
Let’s analyse this for a minute, WHY on earth would anyone want a jacket that is breathable?  That is exactly the opposite of why I am wearing a jacket.  Breathable implies that air is getting both in and out.  The warmth that my body is producing escaping, and the freezing atmosphere outside penetrating.  Breathable should never be sold as a feature of a jacket.  If you want your jacket to breathe, just unzip it, or don’t wear one.  Breathable and warm are mutually exclusive.

Steve advised me I needed my jacket to be breathable to avoid “overheating”.  OVERHEATING!  It’s @!#%!#@ minus 20 degrees, when the hell did anyone EVER overheat in those temperatures?  NEVER, that’s when.  Also this jacket was less than 5mm thick, how on earth is this going to contain any warmth?
Perhaps the only two features that should ever be combined in a jacket are windproof and rainproof, because basically it just needs to block very small molecules in both directions.  This is easily accomplished by even the cheapest of plastics.  Introducing “breathable” will ensure the loss of windproofedness, because “wind” is just the earth “breathing” at you, at 100km/h, from a glacier.  Breathable, windproof: mutually exclusive.

So let’s see where we ended up in the REAL universe of jackets.


That’s pretty much how it looks.  And my jacket landed solidly in the yellow circle, it appeared to be VERY breathable, and offered minimal warmth and windproofing. Maybe I am being a little dramatic, by I’m pretty sure I was only moments away from hypothermia, and Steve only moments away from a manslaughter charge. Back to the research labs for “Outdoor Research”, and Steve can stick to trying to sell pee-bottles.

Actually, I tell a lie, there was one feature the jacket had that I didn’t get a chance to test, but surely this one would have been true:

Not sure why he kept bringing that up, but he mentioned it a lot... maybe he spills a lot of coca-cola?

Anyway, in future my advice is to achieve all of the features above on their own, take a fleece for warmth, a windbraker for wind proofing, a raincoat for rain proofing, and thermals.  Set a match to anything that claims to be breathable - it’s probably polyester so it will light right up, and the warmth that it briefly provides will be the most value you get out of it.

Onwards and upwards

Rant over, up the mountain we continue.  It’s a long slow (but not too slow) slog.  Only a few minutes in I am convinced this has been my stupidest holiday idea ever, however as I am walking behind Simon and he hasn’t stopped yet, my determination to continue remains just strong enough.

Eventually we reach Stella Point (Stellaaaaaaaaaaaa!).  Way too cold to get a picture here on the way up, I'm far too paranoid about getting frost bite, but here's one on the way down for good measure.

And here is an artists impression of what it looked like on the way up:

From here up it is only another couple of hundred metres vertical climb.  We are moving too fast, and will be at the summit well before dawn, so Musa and our assistant guide (Desderi) set about slowing us down, but that results in more coldness.  So Musa tells me to add a second ‘kick’ style step into my walk.  I start doing this little shuffle, and soon enough I have a bit of a rhythm going.  It’s a rhythm, a motion, that I recognise.  It’s from somewhere in my youth, but I’m not sure from when.  It’s almost, like a chugga-chugga motion, like a railroad train now.  COME ON BABY, DO THE LOCOMOTION!

Okay, embarrassing to admit, but seconds after starting this walk Kylie Minogue had entered my brain with the locomotion, and this was basically enough to distract me from the temperature until we had reached the summit.  Thanks Kylie. A little disturbing, and let’s never speak of it again.

The Summit

Here at last!

It is pre-dawn when we arrive.  I get my solo photograph taken while there aren’t many people up there (there’s probably only about 10 people at the top from other routes).  The sun eventually rises.  Too cold to re-do my solo shot, but I jump in a group shot with Simon and our guides.  I still don’t remember it being that bright at this time, but it looks blue enough in the background.

Here’s me in front of the glacier:

Simon and I with Musa (or it could be any three random people really, but I assure you it is us) in front of the sun:

Some far better shots from Simon's camera:

Now as you will recall, we have been taking Diamox to limit altitude problems.  Never has the diuretic side effect of this drug been such a problem until this moment.  I realise, while at the summit, that I am absolutely bursting and there is no way of holding on.  Briefly I entertain the idea of wetting myself, the idea of something warm running down my legs isn’t easy to let go of, but common sense suggests this would soon freeze and cause more trouble than its worth.  Oh, and it’s just kind of gross too I suppose.

I brace myself, and prepare for the challenge of a lifetime.  It is made even more challenging by the fact that I am wearing 4 layers of pants (underpants, 2 thermals, and the soft-shell pants).  3 of which have a fly, 1 does not.  This complex negotiation required the removal of my gloves, the whole affair is pretty unpleasant.  Perhaps 'challenging' was an understatement, and with hindsight I might consider the wetting myself idea a little more in future... so cold.

The trip back down is a lot speedier.  For most of the way you are skidding down scree.  Simon seems to get the hang of skiing or 'screeing' down it very quickly.  I move at about the pace of the GGL and spend most of the way nearly falling over.

We don't spend long at camp before we pack up and head down to Mweka camp for the night.  Some shots of the journey:

Never forget, everything is a negotiation

While we are at dinner on the final night at Mweka camp, Musa comes to see us to first tell us how wonderful we were today.  How kind.  He then subtly brings up the matter of tipping, about as subtly as a sledge hammer "How do you feel about the tip?".

Now we had been advised by the tour company that a tip of $200-$250 per person was appropriate.  Feeling rather thankful for their efforts, we priced it at the top of the range and say we will give a tip of $500.

Musa: "I think you can go as high as $600."

Me: "Why?"

Musa: "Because we went to the summit."

What?  I didn't realise summitting cost extra!  Unfortunately we have, as advised by the company, only brought with us exactly the money we intend to tip.  No problem, he says, I can stop by the hotel later tomorrow and get the remaining $100!

That didn't go as planned, but I suppose we did summit, and they did carry a lot of crap for us, and it is a hard job that would probably command a much higher salary and conditions in most other countries.

We also end up ignoring the company's advice not to tip until we are at the final gate.  We gave them the tip at dinner on the night before, so we go to bed hopeful that in the morning they are still around.  Fortunately they are, and they are substantially chirpier than usual!  Check out the moves on the guy in the red beanie!

Day 7

Day 7 we re-enter the rainforest as we walk down to the gate for the journey home.  Last view of Kili:

So that is basically it.

We are still in Zanzibar, and remain here till Friday.  Will update you on it later, but here is a photo of where we went snorkeling yesterday to make you jealous.

Possibly the best photo I have ever taken, well done Lumix.

Kill-A-Man-jaro (Part I)

Anyone wondering why it has taken so long (and honestly, it has been only a day!) to update this, should refer to the following receipt:



18 beers makes for a pretty good afternoon… and after walking to ~6km altitude every one of them was well deserved!  (For the record, my favourite African beer so far is Serengetti… I think…)

In an effort to avoid any complications which might arise from extended time in Africa (i.e., food poisoning) affecting the climb, we decided to tackle the mountain first up. This was all reasonable until Simon’s bag did not made it to Kilimanjaro with us.  Fortunately it arrived at approximately 8am on the first day of the climb (our second day in Africa), giving him a precious 30 minutes with his belongings before we were picked up by our guide at 8:30.

Broadly I intend to summarise each day.  Given it was a 7 day trek, I may need to span this over two blog posts, but we’ll see how my stamina holds up.  We are taking the Lemosho route up Kilimanjaro.

Day 1

Today’s “hike” consisted of a two hour drive, then lunch, then another one hour drive to the start of the walk, my kind of hike.  Enroute to the gate (where we would also eat) we stopped to pick up the porters, they weren’t ready.  While waiting I noticed that they have jacaranda trees here, and they are flowering, shudders went down my spine as I remind myself I’m no longer at UQ, and these beautiful flowers no longer warn of pending exams for which I am ill prepared.

We stand around waiting for the porters for a while, little did we know this would be indicative of things to come.

Lunch at the gate was impressive.  Most people were given a packed lunch box with sandwiches, cakes, biscuits, a popper (they have really stupid shaped poppers here, pyramid shaped, very impractical) etc.  Simon and I notice our porters setting up a table and chairs with a tablecloth, and various condiments.  Everyone is wondering what royalty this is being prepared for, turns out it is for Simon & I.  Brief guilt is overcome by hunger and we sit and eat.

After lunch we wait, and wait, and wait… At least 2 hours pass by and other groups ship off to the starting point (another hours drive away) in their 4WDs.  Apparently our porters wrote their names down incorrectly, and somehow this has caused a delay.  When we finally set off, our crappy van is incapable of driving through the thick mud caused by recent rain, and stirred up by the other tourists in their high powered 4wd vehicles.  So instead of a comfortable 1 hour drive, we commence walking to our camp.

The track was muddy and steep, through thick rainforest, and we barely make it to camp before dark.

This guy makes me feel guilty that I am finding it steep and tricky, by doing the whole thing balancing a pack on his head:

Safety Moment

It is common practice in the resources industry, of which I am now part, to start meetings with a safety moment or safety share, where you try to avoid future ‘unsafe’ behaviour by sharing your own experiences or observations of unsafe behaviour. I think it is prudent to bring this practice to the blog.  Today we have 3 safety observations:

1. Be attentive when your guide is explaining what a stinging plant looks like.
2. Carefully assess all logs before placing your bag on them.
3. Ensure your camera has a lanyard attached to it at all times.
4. Monkey's are always out to cause you problems.

Our guide, Musa, pointed out a stinging plant.  I was distracted by god knows what (I appear to be very bad at listening to him).  Later on we were taking a break and I put my bag down on a log while going to answer natures call.  Said log was apparently home to an army of ants.  After brushing what I thought was most of them off we continued on our merry way.

A few minutes later we spot a monkey, this monkey:

At this very moment, several of the ants I had missed coordinate a simultaneous attack on my chest, neck, and stomach (right in the belly button!), causing me to drop my camera in the dirt.  While retrieving it I inadvertently walked through the stinging shrub, causing a pretty sharp pain on my left leg.  I survived, lesson learnt. Stupid monkey with its stupid tail’s fault really.

Toilet report

The night before our trip, a representative of our tour company came to see us.  He asked if we were sure we didn’t want to purchase the western toilet for the hike.  I could barely believe the words coming out of my mouth as I said ‘no, that won’t be necessary’, especailly given the fact that through the use of gastro-stop I basically avoided all bowel movements for the 4 days of the Inca trail.  But it was said, and Simon had concurred, so it was done, and we would be utilising the drop toilets the whole way.

Toilet’s at Lemosho Forest Camp were a relatively good introduction.  I shall assess toilets on four objective criteria:

1. Smell – not the worst, certaintly better than South America
2. Diameter – large, makes for a less stressful experience as aiming is not as necessary
3. Bench – a bench for toiletries (paper, wipes, dettol handwash) is useful, but not present here
4. Means of stabilisation – None, walls are a long way away, you are going to have to rely entirely on your quads/glutes to get you through this one.

So Forest Camp scores a middle of the range 2/4 for toilets, no need for the gastro-stop binge yet.

Day 2

Didn’t sleep well last night, Diamox makes this difficult by forcing multiple night time urination tasks.  Fortunately it’s not too cold yet as we are only at 2700m.  I awake, emerge from our palace, ready to tackle the day.

Absolutely breathtaking scenery today.

The lush rainforest seemed to change into moorlands in only a matter of meters.

Along the walk, Musa shows us a plant that cures, not aids/alleviates/soothes, but CURES 28 different diseases.  Amongst them, none other than Malaria, which western medicine still struggles to deal with.

Why did I spend $7 a tablet on anti-malarial tablets which ‘may’ prevent it, when I can drink a nice cup of tea which will cure it?  A cruel twist of fate, the malaria mosquitoes are too lazy to fly to this altitude, so you would never need to test this cure.  Not sure what other diseases it cures… probably cancer and AIDS.

Here are some other random plants I photographed in an effort to appear interested in whatever I was being told about them, but I can’t remember.

There is time for me to test the pith hat's camouflage abilities (see if you can tell which of the following photos I am in):

Today we were given a packed lunch, because we wouldn’t be camping at the first camp site we walk through (Shira 1) but continuing on to Shira 2.  It was supposed to be warm today, so I am wearing shorts, and a quick dry, cool, hiking shirt.  It was absolutely bloody freezing!  Simon and I have set a cracking pace, which means we arrive at the half way point before our porters. Our guide tells us we have to wait here because we can’t get too far ahead of them, and wait we did.  Eventually we are given a cup of hot milo for our troubles, and the porter carrying our duffel bags allows me to retrieve my jacket.  Sipping on a warming drink while the wind blows the sweet aromas of the nearby drop toilets, how’s the serenity?

Over in the distance our porters appear to be having a cracking time, glad they are enjoying themselves.

We finally depart, and walk across the Shira Plateau.  A wide expanse of lightly foliated landscape, untouched by man, peaceful, you just feel so disconnected from the rest of the world… except for the fact that there is apparently a road, and a car driving along it… this ruins the mood slightly.

Why am I walking here if I could have driven (this is bringing back memories of the glorious train to Macchu Picchu).

Today gets colder and colder, it is exciting at one point to see our shadows because the sun is out

We arrive at camp, Shira 2, and it is raining.  Our porters are standing around, with a look of ‘how the hell did they get here so soon’, so there’s no tent ready.  We stand in the rain and stare at them, as they do the same back.  Nobody is happy about the situation, but soon enough Musa gets them cracking and the tent is up.

Toilet report

1. Smell – still reasonable when compared with South America
2. Diameter – tiny!  These toilets require maximum accuracy!  Very stressful stuff!
3. Bench – still no bench provided, but have a system involving jacket pockets  now which appears effective
4. Means of stabilisation – Still not really present, but walls are probably close enough if you wanted to touch them.

So this one technically only gets a 1/4.

Pro tip – if you use them early in the morning, most of the unidentified liquids on the ground have dried and its almost clean.  For the first time ever, I think it’s actually females who are making the mess around a toilet seat, as most men are using shrubs.

I appear to have commenced having some sort of drop toilet anxiety, manifesting itself in quite severe nightmares.  These involve me being unable to maintain my squat and falling in, or in one terrible vision my headlamp accidentally drops off my face into the hole and is shining up at me and I desperately need to fish it out as we are only moments away from commencing our final ascent.  When I awake from this dream I quickly locate my headlamp to confirm it’s not true.

Day 3

Colder still.  We commence our walk up to the lava tower, which is at 4600m.  The wind is strong, and the fog is so thick we can’t actually see said lava tower. I didn't even bother taking a photo of where it was, because it was just fog.  But I did photograph some icicles.

And fog

A casualty

Alas, we suffered our first set back.  The pith hat, which I am dutifully carrying for that final photo op, suffers a break to its strap, when I attempt to strap it to my head as well as my beanie and my hoodie.  Unwilling to let it go, I risk my life to climb down a rocky slope clutching it in my hands, along with my walking poles.  Eventually Musa tied it to my backpack.  Here we are climbing down and then at the bottom of whatever we were climbing down.  It’s still cold.

Word of advice, walking sticks, entirely useless, and probably more dangerous than they are helpful.  Waste of $140 if you ask me!

We arrive at Baranco camp, one of my favourites.  Despite the cold, this place gives you impressive views of Kili right behind you, and the ‘Breakfast Wall’ which our guide describes as a ‘piece of cake’ sits menacingly to one side.

[Insert appropriate picture of menacing looking wall... hopefully Simon took one, I appear to not have]

Basically today was just so cold I barely bothered taking any photos, and chose instead to protect my hands inside my pockets.

Toilet report

1. Smell – reasonable (can’t believe I am saying this!)
2. Diameter – Back to what I would consider ‘normal’
3. Bench – bench has been provided, very handy!
4. Means of stabilisation – bench also provides a means of some stabilisation to support squatting.

Wow, have we found our first 4/4 toilet!  Well done!  (Note, don’t get carried away with that perfect score, this toilet would score negatively when compared to any other toilet, and in most developed countries would just be destroyed as a bio hazard).

Okay, I am sensing I am losing my touch for today, so I will save part two for tomorrow.  Simon and I have made it safely to Zanzibar now.  We are at the Imani Beach Villas.  The beach here, when compared to Australian beaches, is frankly a turd.  But turd-like as it may be, it is a turd with a bar, and that is okay with me.

I have become quite partial to their Imani Ice Tea (a twist on the classic one, using a dash of mango juice instead of coke!).

This blog will also need to be appended with additional photos from Simon's camera, which like Alice's in South America, is far more expensive and impressive than mine.