Kilimanjaro-The Whiskey Route-January 14^th-January 20th 2008

 

After months of physical and mental preparation, we set out on the morning of January 14^th for the Machame Route, also known as the “Whiskey Route” (as opposed to the “Coca Cola” and “Pepsi Routes”-both easier and much busier routes). It was referred to by the local Maasi as the Whiskey Route because it was considered the longest and most difficult of all the routes. We had not known that before. We had learned that it was supposed to be the route with the best views, albeit a long one, but good for steady acclimatization of the high altitude. There were three of us: Gary Mullins (my good friend from Bethesda), David Anderson (Gary’s good friend from Pittsburg) and me. We had a substantial crew of 23 people along with us including a head guide (Sam, who before becoming a guide, was as park ranger on the mountain), assistant guide (Kim), camp site attendant (Yubu) and a cook (Juve)  to take care of our every need. The only thing they wouldn’t do was carry us up the mountain, something I needed more than once. The balance of the people are the porters required to carry all of the gear, tents, equipment and food. There is no choice as to how many porters go on a climb. It is based upon the maximum amount they are each allowed to carry-no more than 40 lbs. (not including their own gear). We would carry just day packs with the daily essentials: 2-3 liters of water, rain gear (which we used almost every day), camera, binoculars, sun block, bug repellent (until reaching 8,000 feet) hat, gloves and power bars. It seemed like very little compared to what the porters were carrying, but it got heavier by the hour.  We ended up having 19 porters to start with. They were an incredible bunch. Hard working, very friendly, always with a “jambo, jambo”  (Swahili for Hi/how are you doing?) as they whizzed past us on the trail balancing things on their heads in outfits that in many cases were far more suitable for a day at the beach. Much of their better gear was given to them by previous climbers after the climb was over, a ritual we upheld.

 

Before we began, our gear was checked (to make sure we had what we needed) and we were thoroughly briefed on what to expect over the course of the next seven days. The rules of the road were: 1) Go slowly, or as the crew would constantly say “pole, pole,” Swahili for “slowly, slowly” This was to allow our bodies to acclimate to the altitude more easily. 2) Drink lots of water, or as the crew would constantly say “magi, magi” Swahili for “water, water.” At high altitudes, dehydration is a major issue. We would be forced to consume 3-4 liters of water a day. And finally, 3) Give honest feedback after each day as to how you feel. At the end of each day we would be de-briefed on the day’s climb and our blood oxygen level as well as resting heart rate would be checked by our guide. If the levels of oxygen were too low, we couldn’t continue with the climb and would have to go down the mountain. Unfortunately, after just the first day, David Anderson would have to return to the base of the mountain. He felt he was just not mentally or physically prepared for what was in store.

 

Over the next five days, during which we realized that this climb was much more difficult than we had ever imagined, we climbed an average of 6-8 hours a day and traveled through several distinct eco systems. For instance on the first couple of days it was hot-90 degrees, humid and raining much of the time since we were in a lush rain forest. At times it felt like we were in a set for “Land of the Giants” with all the over-sized vegetation. By the end of the trip, we were in an alpine desert with no vegetation whatsoever. It literally looked like we were on the moon. Lava fields and rocks of all sizes all over (Kili was formed by three volcanoes) with views of the clouds below us! Very surreal. Near the top it was below 30 degrees with heavy winds blowing and snow squalls. But what a great view of the Rebman glacier! You could actually see the ice melting. One of the reasons I wanted to climb Kili was to see the glaciers before they disappear which experts say will be sometime between 2015 and 2020. We had thought that we picked the best time of year in which to climb, but apparently we could have done a better job weather wise. On day three, Gary started feeling the effects of the high altitude sickness-head aches, nausea (and vomiting) at about 13,000 feet. Sam said if he didn’t get better by the morning, he would have to down the mountain. Needless to say, I didn’t get much sleep that night.  Fortunately, he was able to acclimate that night and felt better in the morning. I experienced some mild head aches that Sam said were normal, but he kept a close eye on me. One of the worst signs of high altitude sickness is lack of appetite. I never lost mine. Consuming 3X the calories at high altitudes allowed me to eat like a pig all week. The meals were pretty good for mountain fare, but had one thing in common-lots of carbo loading all week. On day four, we climbed the Barranco Wall: a/k/a “Breakfast Wall” because you tackle it right after breakfast and you either “use” or “lose” your breakfast on the wall. It was a 1000 foot sheer face that was as close to technical climbing as we came without ropes. Lots of rock scrambling to get to the top. Well worth it once there. Gary and I agreed that this was one of the highlights of our climb.

 

After the fifth day, we reached the Kili base camp of Barufu. This is the point directly beneath the mountain top from where you launch the final ascent to the summit. The plan was to have a long afternoon to relax and then an early dinner. Sleep (virtually impossible at this altitude due to less oxygen in the air) for a few hours until 11:00PM and then up the final 5-6 hours up the summit to hopefully see the sun rise. We were definitely feeling the cumulative effects of: the high altitude, 5 days of rigorous climbing and some serious sleep deprivation, but we were as ready as we could be. We were “awoken” at 11:00PM to a snow and wind storm with gusts that were more that 90mph. We had a brief meeting in the mess tent. Sam’s face looked ominous. He later said that this was the second windiest he had ever seen it on the mountain (he has logged hundreds of climbs over the years). He suggested we at least give it a try. As it turned out, our camp was somewhat sheltered from most of the wind-it was much worse on the trail, if you could call it a trail. It was also pitch dark (we were using our head lamps) and snowing. After a while, we were forced to turn back. It was just too dangerous to climb with the weather conditions as they were. We were upset that we couldn’t reach the summit, but knew that we had given it our best shot.

 

Overall, the climb was the most challenging thing I ever attempted in my life and at the same time, the most rewarding. Raising money for the Make-A-Wish Foundation of the Hudson Valley to fund wishes helped provide me with the inspiration and determination to keep pushing on every day and was the icing on top of the cake. My heartfelt thanks go out to all who donated so generously in support of my climb.