Kilimanjaro, pt. one

We've been walking up a steep hill for several hours, at first giddy will the novelty of a midnight ascent, now just trying to keep putting one foot in front of the other. In the early hours the headlamps behind us snaked down the ridge like a torchlight parade, now they are mostly just ahead, rising almost directly above us, the the length of the chain never changing before it disappears over a false summit. False indeed. I know from my watch we have hours to go. Lift a foot. Step forward. Lock the back leg. Pause. Repeat. It's very dark, but my headlamp is off, the cones of light in front and behind plenty with which to see. We shuffle along as tight as a chain gang. I look at my watch. 3:20. Could it possibly be only ten minutes since I last looked? In Swahili, I don't think there is even a name for this time. The day begins at six AM, so seven is called one o'clock. My feet are cold, but just barely. As long as we keep walking. It's the breaks I dread. The altitude and the night steal body heat like caravan thieves. Just keep moving, people! Even if it's a crawl. Pole pole is the mantra you hear from every guide and porter. Pole pole kama cobe. Slowly slowly like a turtle. Swahili is so melodic. It pleases the ear. Especially the honey baritone of some of the porters. The stars are incredible. Some familiar constellations- Cassiopeia, Taurus, Scorpio, Orion. But different- on their sides or upside-down. And also the southern hemisphere nebulas- like chunks of Milky Way, but free-floating. I've seen three meteors already. Enough of a reason to keep the headlamp off. It's definitely getting colder, and time is crawling. In college, I worked as a night security guard in the dorms. I remember the same kind of delirium creeping in between 3 and 4. Time slows, thoughts are disjointed, the neck slumps and snaps. Suddenly there is light in the sky behind Mawenzi Peak! The hard part is over. Soon the sun's rays, magnified at 18000 feet, will warm our bodies and recharge our spirits. Soon we'll reach the crater rim of this magnificent volcano, past the shimmering, shrinking glaciers, and then the summit. We'll get the clients to the top, despite the struggles, and take in the view from the rooftop of the continent. I came to Africa to lead groups up Kilimanjaro. But first, I had to climb it myself. There were two clients- a middle-aged couple from Tennessee, plus my colleague Caleb, Tanzanian guide Saimon, Abi the cook, Innocent the waiter, Babu the toilet guy, and six other porters. They work incredibly hard- charging up the mountain with loads slung along their backs and more balanced on their heads. In the evening they crammed into the cook tent, smoking cigarettes and joints and joking with Abi. The hike itself is fantastic. Starting in the cloud forest dripping with lichens and epiphytes, blue monkeys jumping tree to tree. The strange call of the Heartlaub's Turaco. Then out of the forest and into the moorland, the heather becoming smaller and more shrub-like as you climb higher. Into the alpine where the senecio and lobelia cling to the more lush valleys, only bare dirt, rock, and glacial moraine in others . Beautiful little yellow "everlasting" flowers defy logic at 15000 ft. And then the glaciers. Monkeys and glaciers in the same trip? The Machame route is perfect for acclimatizing because you spend a lot of time sleeping in the 12000 ft range. On day three we climbed up to Lava Tower at 15000 ft, then back down to Barranca Camp at 12. From there we climbed to the beautiful Karanga valley camp, then onto Barafu, the high camp. It was from here that we made our successful summit push. 15300 to 19331 in one long night. The trip down was maddingly slow, the clients pushed to their limits. Finally we put one in the "stranger", a wheeled litter with shocks driven by a team of eight porters, for the last 14 km. The rest of us plodded along, dropping back down into the forest full of wild flowers and Colobus monkeys. At the Mweka gate- Cokes and smiles. Had a date on Friday, but she had to fly to Rwanda. Got stood up for some mountain gorillas. Better than a mountin' guerilla. Tomorrow we'll climb that peak again. I can't wait.

Two Africas

I arrived in Moshi, Tanzania, five days ago after three days of travel involving a ferry and four planes. Included in my 160 lbs of luggage were 6 sleeping bags, an enormous dining tent, ultra-violet lamps for water purification, 1000 ft of parachute cord, some smoked salmon and wild mushrooms (dropped with family in Boston), and lots of gear to be distributed to porters. I settled into the Springlands Hotel, my base for the next three months while I guide some Kilimanjaro trips for Alaska Mountain Guides. The Springlands is the base for Zara Tours, the local outfit we work with in Tanzania. It is a logistical wonder, employing some 150 guides, 800 porters, and loads of other staff. Every morning, a series of Land Rovers pull in and Massai workers draped in their colorful shukas load the roofs with bags. Clients from around the world are whisked off to Kili or on a safari or to the airport. The grounds of the compound are beautiful- loads of flowers and birds along the meandering pathways. Everyone is incredibly friendly and helpful and patient with a newcomer's attempts at Swahili. There is a pool where hip young Europeans mix with an assortment of North Americans to sip cocktails in the shade. The entire operation is under the watchful eye of Mama Zainab- a pioneering Tanzanian businesswoman. She is warm and welcoming and runs a tight ship. Just beyond the walled compound is Tanzania- impoverished, dusty, and beautiful. If you venture out you will come to a little neighborhood centered around an enormous baobab tree. My American colleague Caleb took me to meet some friends at the bodega that is the social center of the community. His friend Baragash lead us to a little shack near the dalla-dalla stop. We sat on low stools as a young woman spread a huge lunch before us- ugali (a sort of African polenta), some stinky little lake fish, delicious kale, beans, rice, and tripe. We took chapatis (there is a huge Indian influence in East Africa) and wrapped everything up with avocado picked up along the way. The result- a huge multi ethnic "burrito" that dribbled down our arm and gave the chickens something to do. It was delicious and the bill was $1.50 for three. After lunch we grabbed some of the local banana cider and walked across some fields opposite the Springlands. Huge maribou storks soared above us and the air was sweet with wild mint. We sat by a lovely spring under an enormous ficus tree and watched a huge train of ants build a bridge ( out of ants!) to get across the waterway. People came by to gather water, bathe, or eat lunch. Beyond the spring are huge rice fields. The Chagga people of this region have historically been more wealthy than their neighbors because of the fertile soil and irrigation potential afforded by Mt. Kilimanjaro towering above. Sometimes at dawn, when I leave the compound i'll catch a view of the peak coming out of the clouds, its glaciers just catching the first light. Nepahenda hapa- I love it here! In one hour we leave for the first climb- Caleb, myself, Tanzanian guide Simon, two clients from Tennessee and some porters. I've been up for hours,my pack checked and re-checked. Hakuna matata!

Summer 2010

The season began with guide training in beautiful Haines.

Then a 24 day IWLS sea kayak course in Glacier Bay. We spotted a wolverine in the East Arm, and a humpback whale carcass in the West Arm. The weather was fantastic.

In June- a trekking and whitewater course in the Yukon.

Then, in July, a traverse with Brian and Corn. We paddled 40 miles up the East Arm of Glacier Bay, climbed 40 miles over the Riggs glacier, and rafted 40 miles of river to Haines. Barely made it back to work........

Now all is packed in various piles- Tomorrow taking a ferry, then 5 planes to get from Haines to Africa.

Hebu nenda!