Mount Kenya

Monday morning I woke after a good sleep full of anticipation. At around 8.30 am I was picked up from the Milimani Backpackers and taken to Sana Highlands offices again. In the office I was greeted by Sami. Sami is young-ish looking Kenyan fellow, dressed in full hiking gear, he was to be my guide for the next four days. I was prepared with two bags. My day sack and my main rucksack with just a few essentials like sleeping bag, warm clothing and first aid kit. Sami remarked that my main holdall was light which was good - especially as he was going to be carrying it for the duration of the trek.

We walked the short distance to the mutatu stand on Luthuli Avenue and we found a transport heading to Nanyuki, a town on the northern border of Mount Kenya. Heading out of Nairobi I was once again on a heavily potholed and bumpy road. We were heading north, north east out of the Kenya capital and as we travelled I noticed we were following the course of a major new arterial project under construction. A new super-highway linking the north to the south. Maybe this is part of the massive road being constructed by the Chinese linking northern and southern Africa? Several hours later, as we had climbed into the Mount Kenya park, the air grew colder and the cloud darker. The rain came and went frequently but was ever present in the gloomy sky.

We stopped near Naro Moru, the North Western entrance to Mount Kenya. We were running behind schedule so Sami disappeared to sort the food supplies at the supermarket whilst I sat and ate lunch in a tiny little café by the side of the main road. A small shanty town comprised of more of the corrugated tin shacks with a few concrete block buildings it was a remote Kenyan township. I was taken to meet Charles, our cook/porter for the excursion.

Moments later we were bobbling along the crumbling road around the national park before we turned off onto a muddy track that lead towards the Naro Moru gate. We stopped at a large, newly constructed, building complete with official looking gate to the Mountain. The peaks were totally masked by cloud making it impossible to see the task ahead. I was slightly disappointed not to be able to see the summit and my objective or gain a photograph.

At the gate Sami took care of the formalities whilst Charles and I packed the bags with food and kitted ourselves out. I adorned my full rain gear with my hiking boots etc. Charles was wearing trainers. Evidently it turned out that his boots were locked up somewhere and the man with the key was in east Kenya. Charles and I headed off whilst Sami finished the paperwork. The track leading up the mountain was sodden and extremely muddy.

The Naro Moru gate was nestled at 2400 metres and our objective for the afternoon was to reach the Naro Moru River Lodge at 3058 metres altitude. As we trekked up the rain soaked track the heavens opened on us and we had to spend the next two hours or so hiking in the torrential rain. Sami had caught up before long and together the three of us reached our first camp some time around 6 pm.

Dinner was a massive plate of roasted potatoes and beef and vegetable stew, ample cups of coffee and tea were supplied and fruit after the main course to help the digestion, it was pretty cold at 3000 metres so the warm cups of drink were very welcomed.

In the morning we set about hiking to the Teleki lodge, some five or six hours hike away, after a big breakfast of eggs, toast and pancakes with jam along with tea and coffee. We left the camp around 7.30 am and headed straight up the path. A kilometre or two up the mountainside we passed the met station and as we did so we turned off the main track and began heading across more rugged terrain.  For several hours we continued to climb. The landscape began to change from the dense rainforest where, I was told, you would find antelope, elephants and even leopards, to a more open marsh land. The ground under foot became much more soggy and for a long time we had to tread on tufts of think grass which were the only solid footings.

After some hours the mountain side began to level out and the ground became firmer. It was still raining, as it had for most of the time I was on the mountain and the trail was sodden with water. We passed a group coming down the mountain, those who had gone the day before me, and they looked weather beaten and downhearted. They had completed the summit hike in the morning and where undertaking the long hike back down to the River Lodge. I would be undertaking this same, challenging, task the following day. Their mood didn’t do much to lift my spirits at this point as I was getting slightly down beat due to the constant pounding by the elements. We made it to Teleki lodge some time around 2 pm.

At the camp we were the only guests. Charles and Sami headed into the kitchen area whilst I pottered around for a while taking some photos and made another video blog and then rejoined my companions. Lunch of super noodles, mixed veg and bread had been prepared. Soon afterwards Charles had already prepared yet another meal of rice and vegetables and more fruit. I was still feeling full from the previous meal but they insisted that I ate. I managed a small portion but I began to feel slightly worse for ware with stomach ache. I opted to lie down for a while. Knowing full well that I would have to be up for around a 2.30 am departure to attempt the summit climb I wanted to rest. It was already around 6 pm and then I started taking a turn for the worse. My stomach was really playing up and I had a suspicion that it might be something to do with the water I had taken from earlier that day. Although I had had two bottles of mineral water they had gone rapidly and so had both my fizzy drinks. Charles had boiled water and refilled my mineral bottles but I don’t think he boiled it for very long therefore not completely sterilising it. I had been a bit foolish and not used my chlorine and neutralising tablets this time. I got a bout of the runs. For the next six or seven hours I had to frequent the remote and freezing cold outhouse. A corrugated tin shake with wooden floor suspended over a pit there was nothing but a square hole in the floor to aim for, not easy when you are freezing, squatting and in pitch black.

At 2 am I had had virtually no sleep and was feeling terrible. I told Sami about my circumstance but told him I still wanted to attempt the summit. The night before I had also agreed to descend via a different route, the Shipton camp route, which he told me had a nicer descent. At 3 am Sami and I left the camp and headed off in the dark with torches and packs loaded with drinks and some of my remaining biscuits. I had managed to eat a little popcorn and some biscuits Charles had laid out before we left and so we ploughed on. It was cold but the sky was clear which was a great indicator for conditions at the summit. After a while of almost no gradient we began to climb steeply. The ground turned from the solid, stony path to the looser scree commonly found on the side of high mountaintops. We ploughed on. My stomach felt bloated. The higher we climbed the colder it became and the ground beneath became slightly frozen.

A vague light began to appear at the top of the mountain as the sun’s first rays began to creep into the sky. After several hours of “pole pole” (slowly slowly) hiking we reached the top of the ridge. I found myself on a plateau on the saddle of the peaks and in front of us was the Austrian Hut. The highest most camp of Mount Kenya. At around 4800 metres it was bitterly cold as we took shelter in the hut for several moments. I drank some of the warm water that was in my steal flask along with some of the cold water in my plastic bottle and also ate some more biscuits that I shared with Sami. After a couple of minutes lingering we set off again. It was best not to hang around any longer because of the cold. At this point all I wanted to do was get my sleeping bag out of the backpack and curl up in a snug and warm ball.

We headed out. The ground was now totally covered in snow. The snow had become more prevalent as we had approached the Austrian Hut before hand but now the ground was totally covered. We continued to ascend. The climb to Lenana point lead us along a ridge with fairly sharp slopes on either side. At this point my vertigo was going nuts. I concentrated on the firm ground, or not so firm at times as the snow gave way under my feet, and plodded on. As we approached the top the view became spectacular. Unrivalled beauty sprawled in every direction. To my left I could see the two peaks of Batian (5199m) and Nelion (5188m). It’s not possible to hike to the top of these peaks, they can only be conquered through technical climbing.

At just before 7 am I stood on the peak of the Lenana point and Sami took the most amazing photo of me standing next to the pole adorned with the Kenyan flag. I was over the moon for having reached the summit, something not hours before I had doubted I would achieve. The views across the region were spectacular and I absorbed them all but the clouds were moving in and we had to get moving and get down and more importantly get warmer.

We descended on the opposite side of the peak and I saw why Sami had recommended this route. It was very easy going down. We followed the hikers tracks that were in front of us and with in fifteen to twenty minutes we had already began to leave the snow covered slope and were sliding comfortably down the scree. On the way down we passed a group of English guys, perhaps army personnel, climbing towards the peak. They were all carrying their own, fully loaded, packs. Twenty to thirty kilo rucksacks with full supplies and equipment no doubt. I didn’t envy their task and just as Sami and I reached the bottom of the descent to Shipton the weather really began to close in and the rain and sleet began to fall.

At Shipton camp Charles had already arrived. He had left Teleki at around 5 am and had approximately five kilometres to hike, climbing over 4600 metres at points, to reach the camp where we would have breakfast. So far that morning Sami and I had hiked over twelve kilometres and ascended, and then descended, eight hundred metres of altitude. Although this doesn’t sound like much when you begin from 4200 metres it is incredibly tough. The air is terribly thin and I have no doubt that without all the training I have been doing over the past 6 months or so then this would have been a far tougher challenge than it already was and I probably would have failed. My complete lack of sleep and stomach ache had been really tough to take but I had made it.

Sitting in the kitchen area of Shipton Charles handed me a plate of fruit. The night before I had been rejecting food but my stomach was now beginning to feel better and I was able to take on essential calories. He then gave me a plate of French toast and pancakes with jam. Hot chocolate was also very welcomed having much needed sugars. I had but an hour at Shipton before we set off again on the next part of the day, a fifteen kilometre hike to the overnight camp at 3300 metres altitude.

The weather was, once again, appalling as we traipsed along the valley basin in the wet, boggy marshland. Torrential rain that turned to sleet hounded us for hour upon long hour. After several long kilometres the path began to lead upwards. I had been lead to believe that the last of the ascending was over, how wrong I was. The next three to four kilometres saw us hike up and down two more ridges. The rain had caused the ridges to become river after river running down the slopes. It was horrendous to walk on. You had to watch were you placed every foot in case you vanished into a hole filled with water. I was extremely tired, incredibly low on energy reserves, I’d been walking for over ten hours by this point and I really needed sleep. Charles headed on by himself, the machine I called him, as he continued to plough on in nothing but a pair of trainers with some plastic bags around his socks to keep his feet dry. Within a matter of minutes he was gone from view. His strength and stamina were incredible. Sami stayed to continue to guide me and help me make the last legs of the day's trek. As we reached the top of the final ridge the Met station came into view. We began to descend once more and the ground became firmer and easier to tread. The rain had eased slightly and just as I was about to give up on reaching the next camp I saw the green, corrugated, metal roof appear on a point perhaps a kilometre away. It was all I needed at that time to make me summon the energy required. The thought of a bed, dry clothes, shelter from the rain and cold drove me on and before long we had made it.

All the way down the only thing I wanted to do was sleep. Just as I was about to lay down to get my much deserved rest Charles told me lunch was ready. I really didn’t feel like eating but in hindsight it was essential. I had burnt over 7000 calories this day and my body badly needed food as well as sleep. I ate as much of the noodles, vegetable stew and bread as I could and then went and slept. I slept for about four hours before I was woken by Charles at the dorm room door. Dinner was ready, I didn’t feel like eating again but I had, it appeared, no choice. Chapatti and vegetable stew was served and I ate as much as I felt I could at that point. I was feeling better and my stomach had stopped hurting but I was still not 100% on that front. After eating I went back to bed and slept, and slept, and slept.

Around 6.30 am I woke. I had slept for nearly fourteen hours in total and was now feeling totally rejuvenated. We set off some time around 8 am and began strolling down the track to the exit gate. It had been very windy when I woke in the morning but by the time we began the descent it had eased and the sun was shining. As we started walking it began to get very hot and soon I was stripping off the waterproof and insulating layers and was striding comfortably down in nothing but a t-shirt. It was a beautiful way to end this spectacular hike. The sun was warm and energising and we made it down in virtually no time at all

We had been dropped at the entrance gate by car but due to the persistent rain over the past few days the track up to this gate was impassable by car unless you had a four wheel drive, which we didn’t. Instead two motorbikes rattled over the ridge at the top of the road. My bag was strapped to the back of one and I was handed a helmet. I climbed on the back of the bike with my bag on whilst Sami and Charles, with his massive backpack on his back, clambered on the back of the other bike to make it three people on the other machine. It was nine kilometres to the main road down a mud caked, water sodden road. As we descended we passed several rural areas of Kenyan habitation. Villagers stopped and looked on as the pair of bikes loaded with hiking gear and people passed by. “Jambo” the little children would shout (hello) or "Mzungu" (white man). It was a precarious ride down but it was an entertaining way to reach the main road.

At the bottom as Sami paid the drivers two locals, who had been dropped off by a matatu, approached me and began to ask me questions about the mountain. They were curious and excited to see me but perhaps some of the least educated people I have encountered. That said one of them spoke enough English to ask me some details of my trip and would constantly shake my hand, nearly ripping the arm out of the socket. The other, who claimed to be a veterinarian (I highly doubted it due to his severe lack of intelligence or ability to see straight), just mumble incoherent ramblings in my general direction. Sami was smiling at this encounter but soon came and pulled me away and we climbed onboard a matatu and headed off to the town of Nanyuki. The first real bit of civilisation I had seen in days we exited the over crowded van and then went in the Nyuni Village eatery. Upstairs, looking over the town, Sami ordered us lunch. A huge chopping board of roasted beef, ugali and chapattis was delivered and we all chowed down heartily. I said my goodbye to Charles, who lived near Nanyuki, and then Sami and I got into another matatu and began the drive back to Nairobi.

Another adventure was over, a memory engraved into my mind forever. Standing at the summit of the Lenana point had been one of my greatest physical achievements, I'm now much more mentally prepared for the bigger beast, Kilimanjaro, in three weeks time.