Kilimanjaro – Our Pod Life

Traveling expands our world in uncounted ways. One of those is meeting people who are equally insane and become life-long friends. This post was written by our friend Graciela, who we met when the entire group of travelers convened at Kilimanjaro International Airport in Tanzania. It’s a wonderful description of our shared experience ascending Mt. Kilimanjaro.

In case you haven’t heard, read in the NY Times, seen us on Headline News or on the Today show, Klemens and I successfully conquered Mount Kilimanjaro – that’s 19,343 feet! Yahoo! Here’s a little about our trip.

There were eight in our group –
Bev: Police Officer Extraordinaire and 1/2 Ironwomaner.
Greg: Banker, 100 Mile Bicyclist and Bev’s Beau

I am ADVENTURE MAN! — *Tom: Ironman and Cross Country Cyclist* *(FYI Tom – they now have planes, trains and automobiles for that!)*

Robin: Glamour Girl and Professional Hiker – her mascara lasted the entire trip – go L’Oreal!

Bionic Mickey scanning the terrain for predators — Mickey: Federal Agent, Special Forces, Border Patrol and possibly animal rights violator (LOL)

Jane: Our Colorado librarian and mountain goat

“Sure - I have some pizzas in here. How many do you want? — *Klemens: Here to celebrate his 50th birthday – No Experience*
*Me: Along for the ride – No Experience*

In addition, we had our American guide, Zach, very knowledgable, and our two Kili guides, Killian “the mountain goat” and Robert, the strong, silent type. To carry our eight 15 kilo bags, tents, chairs, food, tables, cooking pots, etc… we had 25 porters. These guys are truly amazing! Earning less than $5.00/day, ill equipped and carrying 70 pounds of equipment on their heads, they would bound past us each day arriving to camp way before we did. These guys are responsible for their own gear which at their salaries is nearly impossible. Hence, one of the reasons you are receiving this e-mail. More on this later.

The excitement began when we landed into Kilimanjaro International airport. Klemens and I thought surely one of the planes’ engines exploded. When we looked out the window for the huge fireball all we saw was blackness. Apparently, KIA has no running lights, or in fact, any other source of electricity to help the pilots know when the earth is approaching. Welcome to Africa!

Thankfully, we all arrived safely to our hotel, the Springlands Hotel. What seemed to us the first night as possibly a one star hotel would prove to be a 5 star luxury resort on our return. Moshi is very dusty; as hard as the staff at the hotel tried, cleaning our rooms each morning, by the afternoon everything was covered in a film of dust, people included. This though, would prove good practice for the days to follow.

The evening before we were to venture out, Zach did equipment checks, med checks, oxygen and pulse checks. 15 kilos was suddenly not that much weight when you consider 5 pounds of home made trail mix, peppermint patties, cough drops, protein bars, 20 hand and toe warmers (just in case), and my snow leopard hot water bottle – this was such a luxury that it really should be included on the mandatory equipment list. Zach and I did not see eye to eye on this.

Day 1
After our 8am breakfast, we all piled into the van, drove 10 minutes, stopped for gas, drop another ten minutes stopped at a souvenir shop, drove again – well, you get the idea. We finally arrive at Machame gate and wait some more. Efficiency is not a term that is known here in Africa. Permits, sign-ins, pee, weigh station, have lunch. Are we ever going to start this adventure?! Pole Pole (pronounced pol-ay) as they say here – slow, slow. This is how we will be hiking up the mountain – pole, pole.
1pm – (I think) Finally, we all anxiously begin our trek.
From here the days blur together. At the start of the hike it is 85′ humid, a rain forest. As we ascend, it gets cooler, the rain forest disappears and we find ourselves in a rocky, desolate landscape. Did I mention it starts to become cold – like freezing cold.

Days 2-4
6 am – wake up. pee, wash up, dress for the day’s hike, pack your day pack, roll up your sleeping bag and air mat, pack your duffel.

7am – breakfast – (best be packed and ready to go). Sterilize gallons of water that you will drink that day, eat, eat and pee.

8am – line up for daily pic taking and start the hike. Switchbacks, ups, downs, arounds. Mostly ups. Robert would lead the way and the pace – pole pole. These are the key words to ensure you arrive at the summit.

Lunch – if it’s a long day we’ll have a box lunch/ short day arrive at camp and have lunch. Our gourmet box lunch would consist of a piece of malnourished, emaciated chicken, a boiled egg – even the yolk was white, cookies, juice and more carbs. Really delish – you are so hungry!

Arrive at camp – pee. The awesome porters would have arrived ahead, set up our tents (including a bathroom tent) and set our bags out. Unpack, roll out mats, roll out sleeping bags, get head lamps out, try and set up for tomorrow.

Tea and a snack. pee and maybe a nap.

Dinner and more peeing. It was a lot of water you have just consumed! Try and stay warm. The nights were very cold making it even that more difficult to get up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom tent. Often at night, well, most times, it was just too far to walk the 10 feet and the ground next to your tent looked very appealing indeed.

Wake up and do it again. Day four was notable as we hiked over a sheer cliff known as the kissing wall, did rock scrambles and some rock climbing (no ropes). Again, the porters are doing this with our equipment on their heads! Then it was hike up, hike down and then hike back up – why don’t they just install a zip line – much more efficient. Oh well, by this time we’re practically pros.

Day 5 – Summit night

We’ve hiked over 17,000 feet and back down to Barafu camp 15,200 feet. Hike high, sleep low. Tonight we are having dinner at 5pm, going to bed and getting up at 11pm. Sounds fine except the air is thin, the wind is howling and it’s really really cold. Sleep? Don’t think so. At one point during our evening sleep, the food tent collapses causing quite a commotion. Is our tent next? OK – really no sleeping now.

Klemens and Graciela at Barafu Camp. — *Klemens and Graciela at Barafu Camp, before the wind blows everything off the mountainside.*

11:00 pm – wake up. pee. The wind is howling – 60 miles an hour. Maybe they’ll cancel and have us hike in the morning – sounds much more reasonable.

11:30 pm – breakfast. pee.

12:00 midnight (12:15 am – Klem and I are late). Off we go. It’s even colder than before. Our water has frozen, no snack to take as food tent collapsed. It’s dark except for the full moon shining on us. We look up and see headlamps way way off in the distance. very bad sign – means we have to hike up there. Don’t look up! Switchbacks and more switchbacks. Ankle deep in scree! Good thing it’s too dark to see. Cursing Klemens at every step. I suddenly can’t keep my eyes open – they’re closing all by themselves. Zach asks me how much 4 plus 3 is – I think really hard – Man! this is a hard question! Finally, I tell him it’s 7 – very proud of myself! Robert brings a porter,Edward, over to carry my day pack. Makes sure that my mittens are on. Pee – oh no! Please no peeing! On one break I open a gu that Robin the pro hiker gave me. Awesome! So excited. I can’t open it. When I finally open it it falls on the ground. Curse! Don’t know what to do. Cursing Klem some more!

6am (ish) Stella Point – 18,500 feet (5739 meters)
OMG!! We’ve made it – well, almost! Watch the sunrise way above the clouds – stunningly beautiful! Freezing cold and those damn winds are still blowing! I’m happy to call it a day – 18,000 feet is pretty good – I’m done. I can’t breathe. 1 1/2 hours more to go – so don’t want to do this! Where’s the spa?!!

Uhuru Peak – 19, 343 feet
We did it!! Hallelujah!! I can’t believe it!! 10 minutes and 5 pics later we are running back down to Stella Point. Arrive Stella Point 30 minutes later – weren’t we just here? Now I really can’t breathe – getting scared. Where’s the oxygen tank??!! Finally, Killian and I start back down – skiing down the sandy scree filled slope – Haraka! Haraka! Fast! Fast! Still can’t breathe.

3 1/2 Hours Later
Our team finally arrives back at Barafu camp where we left the night before. It feels like a dream Did we just do that? We have lunch and a much needed nap before hiking down another four hours to Millenium camp. One more night on the mountain. We all dream of hot showers and beds. Springlands Hotel sounds magical! Congrats everyone!

It’s been over a week since we conquered Mt. Whitney, the highest summit in the Lower 48 United States and there’s a whole lot of stuff to write about. We did something that very few accomplish, climbing the entire Mt. Whitney Trail, 22 miles round trip, from 8,200’ to 14,497’ in one day. Many people ascend Whitney in two or more days, camping along the trail. Few attempt to do it in one day and for good reasons. The change in altitude is dramatic, the trail is rocky and difficult, and climbing the entire trail in one day requires starting in the middle of the night and, for many hikers, finishing in the dark. On the other hand, you don’t have to carry camping gear and sleep on the ground.

There are many stories, so this will be the first of a few that will likely follow as some of the memories crystalize.

My sister, Sheryl, has never been considered an athlete. Growing up, she was more likely to be called a book worm and probably dreaded Physical Education classes. For you readers under 30 years old, this is a historical reference to a time when schools required you to do things like push-ups, pull-ups, sit-ups, and jumping jacks. What are those? Oh, never mind. It involved more than shifting your numb butt in the chair and moving your thumbs. Anyways, until less than a year ago, Sheryl was a self-proclaimed couch potato and while she admired the feats of others, I doubt she ever pictured herself doing them. The other five members of our mini-expedition had completed marathons, double century bike rides (200 miles in one day), rock climbing, full and half Ironmans, and hundreds of other races. Sheryl might have last run a mile in 1978. Our mother was pretty certain that Sheryl would die on the mountain. I was betting against death but wasn’t quite sure if she was tough enough.

People have a long list of reasons for pushing their bodies to new extremes. Proving a point, exorcising demons, seeking a thrill, postponing death, and sharing the experience with a loved one are just a few. I don’t know what Sheryl’s reasons were for tackling such a huge goal, but I suspect that they included a little bit of all of these. Whatever it was that drove her, she would need a lot of it to prepare for this adventure. We knew that she had a PLAAAAN but with two weeks of business travel every month, it was hard for her to fit in all of the training. She hiked and squeezed in workouts wherever she could. We got to hike all around the San Francisco Bay while Sheryl was grinding away on a crappy hotel treadmill in Wichita.

Our group of six embarked on Mt. Whitney Trail at 2:15am and were together for the first five hours before the terrain and pace split us into several groups. Bev and I regrouped with Tom on the summit and we were descending when we came across Sheryl, Laura, and Steve on their way up, about 30 minutes from the top. My brain was processing information slower than normal in the higher altitude, so I didn’t even recognize Sheryl leading them across a snowfield. Seeing my sister hiking through snow at 14,000′ with trekking poles and a backpack was simply bizarre. I might as well have sighted Santa’s workshop on the North Pole. Yet here she was, looking great, showing no signs of altitude sickness, and leading the others (who didn’t look nearly so perky) to the summit. I was proud and thoroughly confused. I’ll remember that moment for a long time. I’ll also remember her afterwards at the hotel, looking like she’d just taken a short stroll while most of us were still trying to remember where we left our legs.

In the end, everyone summited. Six went up and six came down. Nobody died. And my sister? No altitude sickness. No blisters. No issues. She’s damn tough enough.

Category: Kilimanjaro

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