From the stunning white beaches of Mombasa and the Kenyan coast the time had come to make the journey across the border with Tanzania through the Tsalvo National Park. I arrived in Moshi, covered in dust that floated off me like steam rising in freezing cold air, and stepped off the bus and headed to the Buffalo Hotel. Resting in the shadows of Africa’s largest mountain the next couple of days I would get glimpses of the ice-cap peak and the surround foothills ever reminding me of the massive undertaking I was about embark on.
My departure date was December 1st. I had booked this expedition several months in advance and, as you know, I had been preparing for hiking to the Uhuru Peak since before I left England back at the end of September. The culmination of all my efforts was about to be tested and on Wednesday morning at 9.50 am I was collected from the Buffalo Hotel by Ben and David. For the ext five days these two flamboyant Tanzania trekking guides would be the mainstay of my crew. Ben, my guide, is a 29 year old fellow from Mwanzi, Tanzania’s second largest city on the edge of Lake Victoria. David, by far the most loudly spoken and with the biggest grin is also from Mwanzi and would be my waiter/porter for the hike along the Marangu route.
The Marangu route, also known as the Coca-Cola route by locals and people who have hiked Kilimanjaro, is the most popular path to tread. Starting at 1970 metres above sea level we arrived at the Marangu gate after an hour’s drive around the base of Kili. It was a hot day with barely a cloud in the sky and I was raring to go. We signed in at the office and then for over two frustrating hours I had to wait before being able to set off due to a problem with the bank payment. Apparently a frequent problem in Tanzania it was a slightly disconcerting event made even more annoying as groups of people arrived after me and departed before. I ate my lunch and waited and waited until finally I was given the OK. Some time around 1.30 pm Ben and I set off along the wooded trail that ascends the mountainside.
The Marangu route is known as the Coca-Cola route for good reason. It is the only route that has huts and lodges for hikers to take shelter in, all the rest you must have your own tents to camp in, and you can also buy things like chocolates and, you guessed it, Cokes. It is the most popular route because of the huts but this doesn’t take away any of the potency of the difficulties you face.
The first days hike took us from 1970 metres to 2700 metres to the Mandara huts. 9 kilometres in distance you hike through a semi tropical forest. The sunlight beamed through gaps in the tree canopy whilst birds and insects carried on their daily lives. From stories I had heard from other travellers I was expecting there to be a continuous stream of people passing me in the other direction but I was pleasantly surprised when there were hardly any others on the trail except those that had departed before me from the entrance gate. We arrived at a clearing in the forest around two hours after we had left. I was at the Mandara huts already. I had expected the first day’s hike to be longer and more difficult but it had been more of a gentle stroll for the most part.
A short distance from the Mandara huts is the Maundi crater. An ancient volcanic vent crater on the eastern slopes of Mount Kilimanjaro it is now a dormant, or perhaps extinct, basin with views across Tanzania to the east, south and west and to the north lies Kenya. It also affords, when the sky is clear, views of the Mawenzi Peak. The second highest peak in the region formed from metamorphic rock it is no longer climbed due to the dangers of the soft rock that can give way underneath you without warning. It struck a domineering feature of the landscape.
Like on Mount Kenya you are supplied with enormous amounts of food and liquids for the hike. It’s essential, especially on the first couple of days, to consume as much of this as possible. Sometimes altitude can kill your appetite and also affect you in others ways like experiencing acute mountain sickness (altitude sickness) leading to very upset stomachs and vomiting - severe cases of AMS have caused deaths in the past. At the Mandara huts I gorged on all the food and fluids I could before getting an early night in preparation for the second day’s hike.
After a huge breakfast and packing my bag I left the Mandara hut around 8 am and set off for the next encampment, Horombo. 1000 metres in altitude and nearly 12 kilometres away it was suggested to take five hours to reach. I hiked along the wooded trail for some time, climbing steadily, before the landscape began to change from the heavily vegetated forest to a more barren moor land area. Grey clouds roamed the skyline to begin but the weather was highly changeable showing the mountain’s weather system. The further up the mountain you ascend the more changeable the weather becomes. Clouds move past you at incredible speeds and at times it shifts from dark grey cloud to sunny patches. On the hike to Horombo I had the impressive Mawenzi Peak, flickering from being fully visible to being totally shrouded in grey clouds, to my right.
It took me around three and a half hours to reach Horombo, much quicker than the suggested time, and once again I checked into a hut. Horombo, at 3700 metres, is where you really experience the full brunt of the mountain’s weather system. Here the temperature can change greatly in a matter of minutes. Clouds whip over the mountainside at a phenomenal rate and the difference between blue sky and sun to damp, dark, clouds is vast. It’s vitally important to stay warm and dry. I carried a set of dry clothes with my for the evenings to change into but they had not arrived with my porter and I began to get cold in the fog. Fortunately there are large dining lodges at Horombo and I took shelter inside until my equipment arrived with my porter.
At Horombo I met a number of other hikers. My expedition was a 5 day, 4 night, trip but many people often stay for one or two more nights and they use Horombo as an extra night’s stay to help with acclimatisation to the altitude. It was here I met another Englishman, also called Daniel, and an American girl, Mitzi. They had spent an extra night at Horombo and would be departing in the morning for Kibo, the next camp, the following morning as I would. We spent the afternoon eating and drinking. Just before sundown the sky cleared completely and offered us stunning views across the valley. Kilimanjaro was fully availed and we could see right down into Moshi town from our perch on the side of the mountain. I spent several minutes staring at the colossal peak of Kili contemplating the next 2 day’s hiking and taking in the spectacular sunset.
Heavily fed and watered, once again, I set off from Hormobo around 8.30 am the following morning. The other two had left earlier but I passed Daniel who, as the Tanzanian’s say, was taking the hike “Pole Pole” (slowly, slowly) fairly quickly. The previous two days I had passed the figure of an elderly American woman. At 81 she was on her third attempt to reach the Uhuru Peak. Having failed the first two attempts she seemed incredibly determined that this time she would make it. If she succeed she would be the oldest woman to climb Kilimanjaro (the eldest person was an 82 year old man) and she seemed resolute as I passed her on the rocky trail that lead from Horombo to Kibo.
I was under strict orders from Ben to take the morning’s hike to Kibo Pole Pole. The previous two days he said I had been too quick and that I needed to conserve energy for the big summit attempt. I walked the route to the final encampment far slower than the previous days but I still steadily passed other hikers along the way. Midway on the 10 kilometres, 1000 metre, ascent the landscape changed once again. The more barren moor land gave way to the desolate alpine desert region. Here the terrain was dusty scree, lava rock and crumbling stone. I imagined it to be similar to the lunar landscape of the moon somehow. There was virtually no life here except for the odd tuft of grass and the occasional white necked raven fluttering through the sky trying to find a scrap to eat. To my right I steadily passed Mawenzi and in front, to the left, stood Kilimanjaro, now the dominant feature of the panorama.
I had caught up with Mitzi by this point and together we hiked the final distance to Kibo hut. In the distance, from the mountain saddle, we had seen the camp and it was only around 1.5 kilometres away and perhaps 200 metres elevation to cover but when you are already at 4500 metres altitude this distance becomes far more gruelling to cover. It took us the best part of an hour to hike the final distance as we took our guide’s advice and went slowly.
We arrived at Kibo around 1 pm. It had taken close to five hours to complete the mornings hike and now the altitude was really beginning to take affect. We had covered another 100 metres elevation and 10 kilometres distance that morning. Breathing became more laboured doing just the simplest of tasks. We had a matter of hours at Kibo to prepare for the summit hike that would commence at midnight that evening. We ate, slept and drank as much as we could for the next ten hours before, at 11 pm, we were roused and we adorned our summit equipment. The temperature at Kibo was below freezing but at the top of Kilimanjaro it is common for it to be minus 20 degrees Celsius. We had to be prepared! I had countless layers of specialist hiking equipment on all designed specifically for this sort of task. I had a day pack loaded with essentials (liquids, snacks etc) and just after midnight we left Kibo for the final ascent.
On Mount Kenya I had suffered the night before the summit hike with some form of stomach bug that had left me dehydrated and deprived of sleep. This day I was in full physical condition. I felt good and as we began the hike I followed Ben. We took an extraordinarily slow pace, something totally necessary, as we had around 11 kilometres and 1200 metres altitude to cover to the Uhuru peak. In the depths of night it is essential that you don’t stop, otherwise you begin to freeze, so you must maintain a pace that you can continue to ascend at. There are several landmark points on the hike to the top. Williams point is the first, somewhere around 5100 metres above sea level. I don’t know how long I had been hiking for when I reached here but this was the first time I chanced a look down the mountain. In the pitch black I could see virtually nothing. We were using head torches to light our way up the mountainside and I had expected to see my fellow hikers just behind me but they were nowhere to be seen. We didn’t linger for long as the cold was ever persistent and so we carried on up the scree slope.
After what I think was about another hour we made it to the cave. The next landmark to reach and the last before Gilman’s Point on the crater rim, the cave was around 5400 metres high. It had taken some time to go the last 300 metres altitude but I was not concerned about time. I was more concerned with reaching the top. I had worked hard for this moment and I was not about to ruin it all by trying to rush to the top, I knew I still had a long way to go before reaching Gilman’s, let alone Uhuru. We plodded on. My feet were like blocks of ice and my fingers were beginning to get numb. I was also beginning to feel the affects of the altitude. If I turned my head I became a little dizzy and off balance. This is perfectly normal as the oxygen is so thin here but it is also dangerous because you can slip and fall. I made sure to move my head slowly and to be almost sitting before I looked around anywhere.
We began to pause slightly more as we climbed higher. In the distance to the south and below me I could see the lights of Moshi town twinkling in the darkness. Directly down the mountain below I could see the small dots of the head torches of the others following me up. I was now some distance ahead of them all. It was not a race but I was feeling very proud of myself. All the training and hard work I had put in since I decided on attempting this massive undertaking was paying off.
At 4.20 am Ben and I reached Gilman’s Point. I was elated. From the people I had met coming down the mountain the previous couple of days I had been told that if you make it to Gilman’s you have overcome the hardest part of the climb. Nestled on the crater rim Gilman’s Point is 5681 metres above sea level. The highest I had ever climbed. We rested for a moment and I took photos and videos in the dark. It was slightly sheltered from the wind but we had to get moving fairly quickly as it was still well below freezing here and I would soon get very cold.
Ben led the way. For the first time in over four hours of hiking we had a little bit of descent. It felt nice but it was soon overshadowed as we began to climb up again. From Gilman’s Point it was probably two or three kilometres to walk around the crater rim to Uhuru Peak passing Stella Peak on the way. It was very hard work. I was beginning to wonder what all these other people had been talking about the easiest part being over. By now I was literally taking it one step at a time, willing my legs to move. They felt like lead weights anchored to the ground. A couple of times I had to stop and catch my breath. In front of me I could see other peoples torches. The climb to the top of Kilimanjaro is achievable through a number of routes, not just the one I had taken, and there were people summiting from Machame route in front of me. As we reached Stella Point the sun crept into the sky casting a small light over the top of Kilimanjaro. At Stella Point I was almost completely defeated. I almost felt like I couldn’t go on. I was depleted of energy, I was freezing cold and was about close to despair feeling like I would fail. I rounded Stella Point and a matter of a few hundred metres away I saw the Uhuru Peak sign board. It was all I needed at the point to drive me on. It gave me the determination needed and some magical burst of energy to complete the task.
At 5.55 am, some five hours and fifty minutes after leaving Kibo I had reached the roof top of Africa. Uhuru Peak, 5895 metres above sea level. I was totally elated. I was so tired, I was breathing really heavily, but I had made it. I felt like Frodo throwing the Ring into Mount Doom. The mammoth task was over. Looking around me the view was incredible. Around the crater rim were pockets of the ice cap. Huge white solid masses reminding you how cold it was there. The sun was over the horizon now and there was an amber and gold glow all around. Below I could see Moshi and Arusha towns. People were beginning to arrive at the top. More and more hikers had made it to the crater rim and were fighting to accomplish the final section of the ascent. I was on a high at this point. Going down would be easy compared to climbing up, or so I thought.
Ben led the way back round the crater rim towards Gilman’s Point. Along the way I met some of the others I had started earlier that day with. Some of them hadn't made it though. 25% of people fail and a lot of them don’t even make Gilman’s. I could feel, after pauses, that I was getting tired but I carried on walking. We climbed over Gilman’s and then I saw the full descent in daylight. I couldn’t believe I had hiked up in just over four hours, I was very pleased with myself. We started the descent. The side of the mountain was covered in scree which meant that going down was quick. Taking large steps on your heels into the scree you can cover several metres in one stride. You have to be really careful though as you can slip and fall very easily. Climbing over the occasional rocky portion of the mountain we made good time but I could feel the strength in my legs deserting me. I was really tired and my feet and legs were incredibly sore and weak. A number of times trying to keep pace with Ben I slipped but fortunately fell backwards enabling me to catch myself on my hands and arms. Falling forward would have resulted in disastrous consequences. I began to pause and rest more frequently. I could feel the air getting slightly thicker making my breathing easier but still I was shattered. Stride after stride I carried on down the mountain and it seemed like I was going nowhere fast. Rest, carry on. Rest, carry on. For two hours this was my pattern. Finally we reached the bottom of the scree slopes and the ground levelled off for the final, short, distance to the Kibo hut. I was walking incredibly slowly by this point. I needed food and rest desperately. It was eleven kilometres to Uhuru Peak from Kibo and nearly 1200 metres altitude. So far this day I had covered 22 kilometres distance and 2400 metres combined altitude, all in around eight hours.
Back in Kibo I could hardly eat, the only thing I wanted to do was sleep. I curled up into me sleeping bag and almost immediately feel asleep. David woke me an hour later. My plan was to get down to Mandara hut for the night. Ben and David had both told me that if it was within my capabilities of getting there then I would get a better night's sleep and the weather conditions and oxygen levels would be far better. It would also mean I had a much shorter walk the following morning to reach the Marangu gate and get back to Moshi earlier. We began the descent from Kibo at a good pace. In front of me the Mawenzi peak was fully availed, behind Uhuru was shrouded in a cloud of mist. I didn’t envy anyone at the top at this point knowing how cold it must have become there. We walked across the barren desert alpine area. Before long the moor land terrain came into view. We had to climb over a small ridge at the saddle of Kilimanjaro. It was a short hill climb, maybe fifty to sixty metres elevation, but as we went up I could feel the strain in my legs. I was short on energy and I knew it but I carried on Pole Pole again shortening my stride length on ascents. We rounded the ridge and then descended again.
After around an hour and fifty minutes Ben and I reached Horombo. The weather had closed in. All around us were rain clouds and it was quite cold. We stopped for some more fluids and then we continued. By now I had covered another nine or ten kilometres from Kibo to Horombo and another 1000 metres altitude making the day’s tally about 32 kilometres and 3400 metres elevation. I had eleven kilometres and 1000 metres altitude more to cover to reach Mandara. I was on the brink of exhaustion. Still I continued. Ben leading the way we left Horombo and plodded along the rocky path down the eastern side of the Marangu route. It began to rain which made me sweat more and caused me to lose even more bodily fluids.
I think that the day on Mount Kenya when I had summated Lenana Point was the toughest day of my life, physically, as I was so depleted from the stomach bug I had picked up. This time on Kilimanjaro I was mentally prepared for the huge task on the summit day. Although it was longer I was in better physical condition and although I was on the point of complete exasperation I managed to summon the mental strength to will myself on.
The way down from Horombo to Mandara seemed to take a really long time, longer than it had to climb but I carried on nonetheless. After several short breaks and what seemed like endless hours of trekking we made it to Mandara hut. The final kilometre or so had seemed like two to three. My feet we aching, my legs were obliterated and all I could think of was sleeping. I went to the hut I had checked into, laid out my sleeping bag and fell asleep. I had been told it would be the usual 7 am wake up, 8 am departure, and the hike down to Marangu gate.
At some time around 6.15 am David woke me up. We set off from Mandara around 7 am. Ben was nowhere to be found and David led me down. He told me Ben was suffering from a headache and would follow shortly. David and I made great time getting down. I was feeling much better for a nights rest but my feet and legs were still a little sore. At around 8.30 am on day five of the hike the trekking was over. 42 kilometres in each direction and 3900 metres altitude in each direction. Two marathons in the space of less than five days.
I was over the moon. Jubilant, elated, ecstatic. I was so proud of my achievement. Pleased with all the hard work I had put in over the previous months and the apparent benefits they had had. Ben arrived at the gate a short while later and signed me out of the national park. I was given a certificate confirming I had made it to Uhuru Peak and the time that I had reached it.
The road to Kilimanjaro was over. I had conquered the highest peak in Africa and now, after months of being restrained, I would be heading to Arusha, around 80 kilometres from Moshi, for a good friends wedding where I planned to enojy some well deserved R&R (and a heck of a lot of beer).
So for now, this part of my tale is over, but where one part ends another one begins. For the next part of my travels and the continuation of my adventures stay tuned to OzBlog...to follow sometime soon
