Day 7: We'll Be Coming Down the Mountain When We Come

Today's stats: Mweka Camp (3080 m) – Mweka Gate (1630 m)

We awoke to sun coming through trees with leaves. And so much oxygen.

It was a leisurely day, full of trees with vines and moss and singing birds and higher spirits. It was a slow (but kind of hurried) descent through the rainforest back to civilization. There isn't much to say about this day, except that we were slowly beginning to feel like ourselves again.

On the way down we found two troops of colobus monkeys up in the treetops. I walked with Nico for part of the way and asked him his favorite part of the trek. He said he liked the last day, because he was on his way back to his family and a hot shower. I laughed and agreed.

When we started to see locals gathering wood from the forest on either side of the trail, my heart jumped because I knew we were close. When we made it to the parking lot and were reunited with our porters, I immediately switched into my Chacos to expose my poor blistered heels to some air. We met our UW friends at the sign in book and chatted with them for the last time before they got ready to fly home. They wished us luck with the rest of service.

We drove back to the hotel, and I took the most glorious shower of my life.

Day 6: On the Roof/ Summit Day (Get Up and Get Down)

Today's stats: Barafu Hut (4640 m) – Uhuru Peak (5895 m) – Mweka Hut (3080 m)

Today's account begins promptly at midnight. It actually technically begins when we woke up a little after 11 p.m, but we'll say midnight when we set off. I felt strangely awake for having had such a short time to rest and then wake up and get up in the cold darkness. I slept in most of what I had planned to wear for the summit because I didn't know if I'd be able to bring myself to get re-dressed when it was that cold. We went to the mess tent for tea and a small snack (I had to have something in my stomach to take my Diamox). The guides stressed that we eat and drink water as often as we possibly could because the higher we ascended, the less we would want to and it was crucial.

We packed up and started walking over a pretty level rock face on our way out of camp. We were put in order by the guides of where to walk: Jeff was in front, I was next, followed by Alicia, Will, Matt, and Nico at the back. The moon was bright, almost full, so we almost didn't need our headlamps. But I'm glad I had mine so that I could follow in Jeff's footsteps perfectly. I figured that if I kept up with his pace and footing, I'd be successful and not have any issues. If only this were the case.

The moon lighting up the fresh snow was amazing. I wanted to capture a picture of it, but it was difficult for several reasons. First off, I had my camera wrapped in spare clothes so it didn't freeze, and both the batteries were inside my sports bra to keep them warm and from malfunctioning. Second, we were told that if we take breaks, they must be quick ones because it was too cold and our toes might start to freeze if we stood in place for too long. And finally, without a tripod, the shutter speed was really slow and the pictures came out quite blurry. (One picture is attached to this post, and honestly, it does a pretty good job of capturing my general feeling through most of today).

We took a couple of water breaks within a few hours of leaving, and it's a good thing that Matt and Alicia packed a little more water than they needed: the hoses on the Camelbaks that Will and I were using froze, so we were water-less. The guides typically told us not to bring more water than we needed (3 liters for each daytime hike) because it would be unnecessary extra weight, but this time it was a good call. As we climbed, we saw little lights making zig-zag lines across the rising ground in front of us: other climbers that had set out earlier. I heard our UW friends singing a song back and forth about tacos. Feeling the presence of other people braving the same thing as us made me feel a little bit better.

The higher we go, the more my head begins to pound. My vision is actually beginning to pulse. I wished my handwarmer weren't stuck right in my palm: it's my fingertips that were cold and needed its warmth. We climbed some more and then took a short sitting break. It wasn't one that the guides suggested, it happened because I dropped myself down onto a rock. They said we should try to eat something. I pulled a Clif Bar from the side mesh pocket of my pack and almost broke my tooth: it was frozen solid, so I ate it like a hungry animal would, through the side of my mouth with my molars. We started walking again and I hurt all over. At one point, I actually would have rather curled up in the snow and got hypothermia than continue.

The snow kept crunching under my feet interspersed with the loose rocks that almost made me slip more times than I can count. I seriously started questioning what we were thinking when we decided to spend our hard-earned money and precious Peace Corps leave days on this ridiculous trip. People die making this trek. Should we have done more research? Did we train enough?

It was starting to get light behind us. Our first milestone was reaching Stella Point at 5739 meters above sea level. The light at our back was orange and pink. This will go on my list of most amazing places I've seen the sun rise; also on the list are on the summer solstice at Machu Picchu, as well as from the top of a church in Oaxaca State, Mexico. Jeff and Nico gave us high fives, and people coming back from the summit told us congratulations and that we were so close. But God did it feel like they were telling us a really cruel lie.

The distance from Stella Point to Uhuru Peak was only about 100 meters, but it felt like a marathon. Each step was harder than the one before it. I felt like all the people that we passed and said, "you're almost there!" were lying. We could see the sign at the summit, but it never seemed to be getting any closer. Finally we made it. Snapped some pictures and got the hell out. The guides told us that the plan was to get up there, take our pictures, and get back down as soon as possible. Which was good for me because I was actually deteriorating this time.

Jeff and Nico said that 5200 meters and below was the safe zone, and that between there and the summit was a zone where altitude sickness can have fatal effects. My head was pounding, I felt sick, and I was beginning to hallucinate, seeing pink tinged snow along the packed-down path. For awhile I thought maybe the snow actually was discolored, that some energy drink spillage was the cause. But seeing both sides of the edge of the path all the way down in this hue made me begin to think that my brain was seriously struggling.

This time arm in arm with Jeff, with one hiking pole in his hand and one in mine, we raced down through the altitude sickness zone. A few times I felt like I was going to fall. Jeff clasped my arm tighter. We ran and ran and even when I said I needed a rest Jeff said no; we had to hurry to get to the safe zone. We kept racing and were met by several of our porters, who were alerted and came to aid in my evacuation. We made it back to base camp and I just cried. I cried in front of all the porters, our whole team. Feeling so helpless and out of control of my own body scared me in a way that I have seldom felt before. Will and I went to our tent and he consoled me until I fell asleep for a little while.

The whole summit took about 8 hours total. After not having had much to eat or drink, we were able to eat a little bit of lunch, but only a little. The guys said to us "you are not eating!" and we could only respond with the excuse of the altitude. After packing up camp again, we began what would turn out to be a 5ish hour hike down to Mweka Camp at 3080 meters. We walked quietly for most of the time, through the desolate landscape of the day before. We passed some metal rickshaws used to seriously evacuate people down to the bottom of the mountain. I was thankful that I wasn't so paralyzed that I needed one of those.

We went down and down and down. My glutes hurt so bad that I made Will wait up for me so I could use his shoulder as support for me to take a step down. He said he reminded me of his grandmother. Trust me, I felt like I had arthritis.

At the gate, there was a poster with all the different species we may come across over the course of our trek. I thought the shrews were the funniest looking, and therefore hoped to see one. Jeff and Nico told us that they were very rare to see and that I shouldn't count on seeing one. On our way down, I saw a baby shrew. It was adorable and looked so fuzzy. It made me smile for the first time all day. Thank you, baby shrew.

The other best part of the day was when we reached our camp. I lowered myself down onto my sleeping mat with my muddy boots outside the door. We ate dinner and went to bed as soon as possible. It's been a day for the books.

Day 5: On the Moon/ To the Bottom of the Beast

Today's stats: Karanga Valley (3800 m) – Barafu Hut (4640 m)

When we woke up we could see the Peak. By the time we had breakfast and saddled up for the day, we were once again shrouded in clouds and fog. After walking only a minute or so upwards, the tents that were left at camp were gone from view. We were once again walking through a grey, fuzzy-seeming landscape because nothing is in focus because of all the fog.

The present environment is referred to as an alpine desert, so kind of like what I'd picture the surface of the moon to look like. It's just rocks wherever you look: jagged ones, round ones, big ones, small ones. Rocks. And then it just started to snow. For hours.

This day was nothing exciting and we saw nothing beautiful or intriguing. By the time we made it to the office at base camp to sign in, all of our porters were on the porch taking shelter from the cold snow/ sleet. We had to wait to be told where we could set up camp, so we spent that time sharing trail mix with our team.

When we had a tent pitched, we dove inside only to find that it wasn't all that much warmer and our sleeping mats were quite wet. We were also covered in layers of wet clothing, so I took the extra shoelaces that Will's mom sent and made two clotheslines in our already small living space inside the tent. Will thought they were annoying, but I know that he was happy to have slightly drier glove liners and socks when we had to leave the tent to venture to the "toilet" or the mess tent.

Upon first entering the tent, we heard the light pitter patter of frozen water hitting the roof. After a little while we heard nothing and thought it might be safe to step outside. We slowly opened the tent door and were greeted by blinding white; the sleet had stopped and now it was just snowing. Hard.

I found a Sudoku book in my Books for Africa shipment and took it along on the trip, which turned out to be a really good idea considering all the down time we had. We waited out the snow by doing yet another puzzle, a medium level one where we passed the book back and forth at each turn.

As we were at the summit base camp, we had a special afternoon lunchtime briefing on the protocol for our summit. We would eat an early dinner, go to sleep around 5 p.m, wake up a little after 11 p.m, eat a snack and have tea, and then begin climbing at midnight. As we saw each day that we tried to look at the summit, it was always covered in clouds. If we wanted to see it clearly, we would have to walk through the night and get there early. My account of Day 5 ends here.

Day 4: Get Ready for "Breakfast"

Today's stats: Barranco Hut (3900 m) – Karanga Valley (3800 m)

First off, don't be fooled by today's stats. We didn't just descend 100 meters. There was quite a bit of up and down today, up to a maximum of 4200 meters at one point. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

This morning we experienced two new things: first, we awoke to a layer of frost on the outside of our tent flaps. (You think this is cold? You haven't seen anything yet.) And secondly, we were reminded of what a sunny morning looks like. After a full night's sleep, I feel kind of like a new person. We all make our way to the mess tent, with its door open and facing Barranco Wall across the valley where we saw the rainbow the afternoon before. Jeff walks in and says "oh good, you're all ready for 'Breakfast.'"

We watch the brightly colored dots moving horizontally along the wall across the valley. Some of them are hikers who have got an early start, and some of them are porters. After eating breakfast, Jeff tells us that we'll be doing the same as those dots that we're eyeing in disbelief. Barranco Wall, so-called Breakfast because it's what we tackle right after our meal, is the big undertaking for today. It's all about three-point climbing and going extremely pole-pole in the process.

Right before leaving camp I take my first Diamox of the day: it has to be taken immediately prior to some sort of physical activity. We set out toward the Wall, crossing a few streams before beginning our climbing for the day. It's on this day that we were really given an opportunity to admire and be gracious for our porters. Before beginning, we were told that today would be the most difficult part thus far on the trek. We'd have to go slowly and pay attention and be careful. We had to have three points of contact with the wall at all times. The porters made it look like a walk in the park. While we held on for dear life with each step horizontally up, they carried our bags and gas cans for cooking and tents and woven bags on their heads without a second thought. They used no hands and had impeccable balance with each step forward, often taking a steeper and more challenging path up than those of us with a light daypack firmly secured around each arm.

When we reached the top of the Wall, we looked down and saw Moshi where we began this adventure, which both looked and seemed so far away and long ago. As we climbed, I thought about how happy I was with the Columbia snow boots my mom sent from the boot closet at home. At first I thought they would be too bulky, but besides the blisters they gave me that at this point were just red and raw skin, they were holding up pretty great. I had spoke (or thought) too soon though, because when I took a seat on a rock for a water and Clif Bar break, I looked down and saw that my left boot had a huge tear right along the seam. On a particularly jagged section of the wall, I'd heard a noise at my feet but just figured it was the bottom rubbing against something wet. Our UW friends were at the same point, and invited me to join their boot repair club once we reached the next camp. The guys said they had some super glue and had done the same type of maintenance the evening before on their own boots. Matt, being the fixer of any and all things, performed emergency surgery right then and there, using silk medical tape to hold the boot wound shut until we reached camp.

We continued on and saw the same colored dots from earlier that morning, meaning that camp wasn't all that far away. Except for the part where we first had to tackle the steep and muddy descent, cross a river, and then do the same steep climb back uphill with some rock climbing thrown in. No big deal.

Somehow nobody slipped and fell going down and (still with the sorest glutes ever, speaking for myself) we trudged up to the top and found our campsite already assembled. After this afternoon's so-called Diamox Hike (got to do physical activity after taking it for it to kick in), Matt performed some more surgery, this time wrapping tape around several times and then under to hold it securely in place. As with Nemo's "lucky fin" that was small but nonetheless powerful, so became my "lucky boot," damaged but in it for the long run.

Today was the first day that I washed my hair since the night before we began the trek. Will's mom sent over lots of goodies, in the form of granola bars, body wipes for when there is no shower, and for me, a moistened shower cap with instructions on how long to keep it on your head and lather to "clean" your hair. When I was finished, I kind of wished I had just left my hair as it was. I had it pulled back and in a bandana every day, and it's not like I was sweating because it was too cold. It smelled kind of nice(r), but just ended up feeling sticky-ish. But it's the thought that counts. Thank you, Ingrid!

We all felt a little off after the Diamox Hike and after dinner, called it a night in preparation for the next day's journey to base camp.

Day 3: Frozen Hell, Lava Tower, and Diamox

Today's stats: Shira Camp (3840 m) – Lava Tower (4600 m) – Barranco Hut (3900 m)

Last night I had a dream that I was at some open-mic type place singing along to my favorite song by Katie Herzig called Charlie Chaplin. (www.youtube.com/watch?v=vP5lbEe5TAE&desktop_uri=%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DvP5lbEe5TAE) Briana was there too, playing guitar. Then I woke up. That was the best part of the day.

The stats posted above show us climbing and then descending again. You may wonder why not just stay at that higher elevation and then continue on up? Today we were introduced to the practice of "climb high, sleep low." The idea is to introduce your body to what it feels like to be at a higher altitude so it can begin to adjust, but then sleep lower because the higher the altitude, the less sleep you get because there is less air.

So we start out walking and the pressure in my head is back. I took some painkillers to hopefully help it subside and pushed on. Today is miserable in more ways than one. Not only do I feel like inside my head is expanding with no place to go, but what we're walking through is just so unwelcoming. First off, it's pouring and super cold. And then to top it all off, the landscape we're walking through is this lonely, desolate, desert wasteland. It's empty, freezing, uninviting.

The closer we got to Lava Tower the more I hoped sitting down and having something to eat would help me get better. We made it up there and I went over to some sheltered rocks to squat and pee. After standing back up all the blood rushed to my head. I walked past all the little four-striped mice scavenging for food scraps, back to our group. When I made it there, I sat down (more fell down into a seated position), put my head in my hands, and cried. I felt like my head was going to explode, and like I was going to throw up even though there was almost no food in my system, and my layers were soaked through and it was cold. Will's aunt Alicia later told me that my lips were blue and the color had totally drained from my face.

With my condition deteriorating, Nico and Jeff said that I needed to eat something so I could start taking Diamox. The Peace Corps Med Unit provided us with this to help against the symptoms of altitude sickness. The guides suggested that as long as we hadn't started taking it at the beginning of the hike, to hold off until we absolutely needed it. I had reached that point. The smell of the banana made me sick, so I opted for some biscuit packed in our lunchbox for the day. Matt helped me out of my wet jacket and bundled me up in a new dry layer from my daypack. He put a hat on my head to keep it dry because the new layer had no hood. Nico took my pack and helped me to my feet. I've never felt so helpless in my life.

Arm in arm with Nico, we rushed down a steep decline made up of loose rocks of all sizes. During some season it must be an active mountain stream, because we walked over trickling rivers all the way down. Altitude sickness for me had the following symptoms: I had no sense of balance, my head was pounding (literally), and I felt super lethargic and sick; making our descent was really frightening.

I felt slightly better the more we walked. We were just about to Barranco Hut when it started pouring again. We stood on the stairs to the office waiting to sign in, as we did upon arriving at each new camp. I looked out at a less bleak landscape than this morning and rested my head against the railing. I told Will that I didn't know if I could continue if this is how I was going to feel. We made our way to our already assembled tent and I crawled in, curled up, and tried to rest.

When the rain stopped, most hikers started to come out of their tents to look around at the nicest campsite we'd stayed at so far. A big beautiful rainbow had formed in the sky right next to us. Maybe this was the hopeful sign that I needed.

At dinner that night, our chef Walter made us a cake for dessert. Keep in mind, they're cooking over a gas burner. He told us it took him about 20 minutes to make. It was a thoughtful end to a dispiriting day.

Day 2: Into the Clouds

Today's stats: Machame Hut (3015 m) – Shira Camp (3840 m)

At last night's dinner briefing, we were told that breakfast would begin at 730 a.m and we would leave camp at 8. There was no need for an alarm, because we were awake before 6 anyway. Between sleeping in a tent and being on a Peace Corps sleep schedule that has us up with the sun, we were ready before breakfast.

Leaving camp and beginning our ascent took us into our second ecosystem: the Heatherland. This leg of the journey took us through areas of mossy trees, scrambling up rocks, and crossing seasonal rivers. Jeff and Nico told us that today's trek would include some 3-point climbing, and when we reached that point in the day I thought about the Wild Thornberrys Playstation game I played as a kid. Specifically, one level where you're Eliza or Darwin and on a rock face and have to maneuver back and forth to not get hit with whatever is being thrown down from the top of the cliff. This was much more exciting than Playstation.

We turned around at some points to check our progress but couldn't see how high we'd gone because the clouds were rising out of the rainforest. The visibility close was fine, but distance and height weren't clear. Again, it was rainy and rocks were slippery. We took our time with the ascent. Pole-pole.

We spent some time talking to Jeff on our slow walk up. He told us that sometimes he tries listening to rap to work on his English. But that most of the time he doesn't understand anything American rappers are saying. Will's dad Matt assured him that we're in the same boat half of the time.

Amidst doing some Peace Corps Goal 3 (sharing American culture) we learned a couple more Swahili words. Asante (ah-san-tay) means thank you, and karibu (kah-ree-boo) means welcome or you're welcome. Habari gani means how are you? Nzuri means I'm fine. And adding "sana" to the end of something means a lot or very much, ie Nzuri sana means I'm great, or doing very well. I like learning these new words and putting them into use while on the trail. I really dislike traveling and not knowing any of the local language. Also, I think the guides and porters appreciated the effort on our part. And some of the Lion King is in Swahili, so that'll be fun to go back and watch sometime and put my newfound knowledge to use.

By the end of the day when we reached Shira Camp, I had a building pressure in my head that I couldn't seem to shake. I don't get headaches all that often, so it wasn't the best sign. Additionally, I can't find a simile to describe how sore my glutes are. They've actually never been in quite so much pain before. Falling apart on day 2.

We met some grad students from the University of Washington and chatted with them about Peace Corps. They were really interested in what we do, where we live, what we struggle with. 2 of them were actually on the same flight as us coming in. We talked on the plane too and found that we'd all be on the same Route for the same number of days, so hopefully we'll run into them again along the way.

I neglected to write down what we had for dinner each night, but rest assured that it was delicious and took time and talent to make. We went to bed full, sore, and ready to recharge for whatever the next day had in store for us.

Day 1: "Jambo" and "Pole-Pole"

Today's stats: Machame Gate (1820 m) – Machame Hut (3015 m)

Today is December 13th.

A little bit of backtracking: After several days of combined travel between taxi, train, airplane, and shuttle, we made it to Moshi, Tanzania. We flew from Joburg to Addis Ababa, Ethiopia and were anticipating an unfortunate and uncomfortable 13-hour overnight layover in the airport there. But we were pleasantly surprised when we were checking in at OR Tambo and the attendant said "wait, let me get you your hotel vouchers." Will and I looked at each other in confused awe. So step 1: Ethiopian Airlines is awesome. They put us up in a hotel room bigger than any I've ever stayed in before. The next morning we flew to Kilimanjaro Intl. Airport and were driven to Kindoroko Hotel in Moshi.

Back to the 13th. This morning we woke up and had breakfast on the roof, hoping to see the peak of our upcoming undertaking. Per usual, it was shrouded in clouds. We met our guides downstairs, loaded up the van, and made our way to Machame Gate. We drove through banana and coffee plantations up to the gate where we signed in and waited for our porters to unload all of the materials we'd need for the next 6 days. We began our trek around 11 a.m through the first ecosystem we'd encounter: rainforest.

As promised by its name and the regular weather patterns of the area, it began raining less than an hour after our departure. We suited up with rain gear and continued our uphill journey. The hike took us along a loose gravel path at the beginning, followed by a trail shared with thick and untamed tree roots for the rest of the time. We walked through some of the greenest foliage I've seen in quite awhile, with moss hanging from trees and birds calling to one another over the sound of the rain pouring down. My heels began to blister almost immediately, and a picture (one of several) of my wounded feet right from the start accompanies this post.

Today we learned our first Swahili word: "jambo" (jahm-bo) which means hello. I was immediately brought back to a pen pal letter written by one of my mom's students to my classes. The first line said "Jumbo! (Hello in African language)." All of the guides from the various companies seem to be good friends, so we heard and used it a lot.

Our two wonderful guides Jeff and Nico conditioned us to the phrase "pole-pole" (pronounced po-lay po-lay), meaning "slowly slowly." Being physically fit is not the biggest concern when making this trek: it's the altitude that could end up being the difference between summiting and not. We had to be reprimanded at least three times to go "pole pole" or else we'd be making it harder for ourselves to acclimatize later on when it really counts.

So we started to learn how to take our time. It's not like we were in a rush to get anywhere; we were only headed to our campsite for the night. By the time we did reach camp it was around 4 in the afternoon. Our tents were already assembled and our porter bags (containing things we wouldn't need during the day while hiking) were waiting for us. We settled in and had dinner a little while later. Our meal was unlike anything I'd expected: there was soup from scratch and more food than the four of us could finish and hot chocolate. Day 1: complete.