My Climb up Kili in Pics

Dave, my boet

Me



Sunset, day 1

Cannot beat this rain forest



Sunset, day 2

Sunset - night 2



Night over Shira Camp2

Another Flower





Dave the Man!

Just Me!



Shira Plateau

Mt Meru through cairn



Dave & I & the climb that awaits

Mt Meru floating in the clouds



View from our lunch tent

Where we be going



Why be normal?

Just a jump to the right



Them boots are made for walking!

And another cloud rolls on in



Dave on his way up?

What a beautiful place



On top of Africa

Just the 4 of us!



Sunrise on top

Our assistant guide



The Kilimanjaro impatient

And another flower



The beautiful forest



The whole crew to get just 2 of us to the top!

And it all ends

There is nothing quite so rewarding as coming home to an excited family. A special Kilimanjaro cake had even been baked to celebrate this great occasion!

I spent a lot of time thinking on this trip and here are some of the fruits of my labour. Firstly I wanted to share the three reasons why this trip was so wonderful:


1. Climbing this mountain was a challenge that I have entertained for years. To actually be out there surrounded by its incredible beauty was a special reward.
2. Spending time and connecting with my brother after years of little contact was equally special. We got to rebuild a really important relationship.
3. Kilimanjaro is climbed at a snail’s pace. For the first time in my life I have had the opportunity to enjoy every moment! Going so slowly meant that I had all of the time in the world to look around, drink in my surroundings, think deeply, and find a deep peace within!


And yes, I did learn some things out there:


1. I have to slow down! It is only when I do life slowly that it has any meaning at all!
2. The end is not as important as every step along the way. If I get every step right and make the most of it, it actually does not matter where I end up.
3. The timing of my goals is also not important. So long as I keep plodding on towards them, I will achieve them when the time is right. I certainly do not need to achieve everything right now!
4. Life needs to be lived in a state of happiness. I can choose to be happy and cheerful every step of the way.
5. Data coverage on Kilimanjaro is NOT very good, hence I was not able to post in real time!


That is probably enough about the mountain, although I will be back on its side at some time in the future! For now, it is now time for me to do life on my new terms!

And so it ends

Sleep is wonderful, when of course you get some! For the first time on this trip, I crashed. When I awoke, the grey light of dawn was stroking the tent. Our last night on the mountain was over. It was time to finish this adventure.



The camp is built on the edge of the rain forest and so the mornings walk plunged us into a fantasy world of old tress, tangled vines, and hanging lichen. Once again it was absolutely beautiful. David, with his bionic knee, had to take things slowly, which gave me the opportunity to take photographs like a man possessed. This nine kilometres of forest yielded over a 100 pictures, but truth be told I could have taken that many in any two meter square section of forest!


And then it was all over with a signature at the final hut. A remarkable experience and an even better bonding event between brothers!


The shower back in our hotel room was a revelation. Seven days worth of dirt and grime dripped to the floor in rivers of soap. My longest ever bristles were cut short in their prime. And clean clothes never felt so good. Especially considering I had worn one t shirt for the entire walk!

And then the only thing better than the shedding of dirt was of course a couple of cold beers, ‘Kilimanjaro Baridi Mbili Tafadhali’. Let alone the intense philosophical conversations that followed!

On top of the world, ah Africa

I was feeling nauseous and had a headache, although convinced it had nothing to do with my handstand on the top of Africa! I was also very disorientated and knew it. It was a strange disassociated feeling. I knew I should have been thinking more clearly but I just wasn’t and I was happy with that. A profound sense of accomplishment settled over me. We had made it.


Our pace up that hill had been fast, far from pole-pole. Even the guide was not himself and weaving on the path. It had taken less than 6 hours of walking to conquer the 1,300 meter climb and almost 5km in distance. Sounds poor when you consider I was walking 12km and climbing 1,000 meters up and down in just 2 hours at sea level. I cannot say it enough, altitude is the big leveler.


We took our photographs and then under the insistence of Aaron, headed for the exit, back down Stella Point. By now a number of other parties had started to appear on the top and the thin air aided some interesting conversations. We took a break at Stella Point for David to strap on his bionic knee brace. I lost about another 10 layers of clothing, finding innovative ways to attach them to the outside of my backpack, the inside having been long filled up! Some of my water was completely frozen. It must have been relatively cold up there for a moving liquid wrapped inside my warm clothing to freeze up!


Starting back down the mountain was a shock. I could not believe my eyes when I saw what I could not see in the night. The path up was a big patch of loose gravel up an incredibly steep slope. Lines of people were still struggling up this slope and we tried to give encouragement to all of them. Most of them looked exhausted! Perhaps we looked just the same to them.


What brought a tear to my eye was the number of older people at the top of the mountain. And by older, I mean 65 and upwards. This must have been tough for them and yet they had managed to do it. I was proud of my own achievement, but for them, this must have been very special. An almost confirmation of the fact that they still had lots to offer life. It was all very moving!


3 hours of work was what it took to get down the gravel slopes to our camp. The slope was relentless and we spent most of our time trying to sand ski, jump, and hop through the sliding gravel. For Dave the process was difficult, as he was trying to protect both knees and his back. But there was no stopping us, we were going home!


The clouds descended just moments before we got to our tent. We were happy to toss off our clothes and boots and climb into our sleeping bags for a good mid morning nap. We really tried hard to nap, but there was something about that site that would not let us sleep.

Our crew was happy to ‘wake’ us up and get on the move again. We were still left with a 7km hike straight down the mountain before the day was over. Certainly the hardest part of the walk so far. The slope was relentless and the end never seem to come. But it did and we were soon hunkered down for our last night on the mountain at Mweka camp.

And boy did we sleep!

To the top

All of that excitement was no good for me. I managed to get a whole ten minutes sleep. More than enough to prepare me for the adventure to come, surely? Whilst lying in my sleeping bag waiting for my 'wake up' call, I calculated that I had slept no more than 11 hours over the last 5 days on the trail. Altitude certainly had not helped my sleeping patterns.

Eventually Abbas wakes us up. I am out of my sleeping bag like a shot. Dave is a little groggy as he only fell asleep only a couple of minutes previously. We are served tea and biscuits in our tent. It seems a little bizarre to be eating these strawberry flavoured biscuits in freezing conditions in a tent. Altitude is supposed to decrease one's appetitite but I had no such problems, and tucked in happily. Despite all of our preparations it still took us about 40 minutes to kit up and exit our tent. There we were, dressed for the snow, and waiting for our guide.

Our guide was still in his tent. Shouting to each other through the tent, we established that he was not keen to leave until midnight, in 20 minutes time. We stamped our feet, cajoled him to hurry up, and wasted time until he emerged. Lines of lights snaked up the first of the mountain slopes as parties set off up the mountain, one after another. I was feeling rather anxious and after all of our preparation, I wanted to get moving.

Eventually, we set off at midnight.

My wife had advised me to dress warmly with the sound thinking that I can take something off, but I cannot put anything on if I am too cold. After 50 meters of walking I was overheating. Perhaps, I had gone too far with my 2 pairs of socks, 2 pairs of gloves, 3 pairs of pants, and 4 tops. I called a halt to our march and started to undress. Off came my beanie, a pair of gloves, and a top. The march resumed. I was still hot but unzipped my tops, and let the freezing air flow wherever it could to cool me down.

We marched and marched and marched. My world shrunk to the diameter of my head torch as I carefully followed Dave's slow footsteps as he slowly followed the guide. An assistant guide followed me in case one of us had to turn back at any point. Every now and then my mind would get the better of me and I would look up to see how far we still had to climb. I could not see very far but what I could see is that the hill just continued up. Then it was back to concetrating on following footsteps.

The moon soon rose over our shoulders, a beautiful orange quarter. It started to illuminate the profiles of the mountains around us. I could see a spur running to our right which reared up into the sky as it joined the top of the mountain. This was not good psychological news as it meant we still had some way to go. Our slow pace continued but not as slow as the pace of others as we soon overtook all of the parties that had departed some time before us. This was no race, but it gave me hope that we were making progress.



Aaron, our guide, called a break. This break in rhythm seemed like an imposition. We drank water which was already starting to freeze and I ate a frozen Crunchie. After a couple of minutes we set off again. It was just too cold, even for me, to sit around doing nothing.


Time was surreal as the path continued endlessly upwards. My mind narrowed to nothing but moving my feet. The surface we were climbing changed and my hope soared. Was this the start to the last climb to Stella Point? Aaron said no! I shut off my mind again and continued to walk. The ground was covered in sand and small stones. As I placed my foot, it would slip backwards as the surface shifted downhill. It was a little frustrating.


I could feel that I was tired. My lack of sleep catching up with me. I settled on a 3 word mantra and repeated each word with every step I took. This seemed to help, as the climb was endless. I kept wanting to close my eyes and have a quick nap. Completely nonsensical. I repeated my matra and plodded on. My brain was numbed and my world shrunk to the importance of just those 3 words.

I heard his words but did not understand at all. Aaron had said ‘Karibu Stella Point’. Where we there already? A few steps later and we were there. Way below us, lights in lines snaked up the mountain and we could see lines of lights on the other mountain spur. The sun was getting ready to rise and I was almost on top of the world. We did not linger and set off on the last part of the climb, a gentle walk to Uhuru peak, just 45 minutes away along the crater rim.


That walk was gentle but I was tired. The top was absolutely spectacular, views over banks of clouds, other mountains reaching up through the mist, a sunset about to break, and massive glaciers shining whitely below us. I struggled to take it all in. My mind was definitely moving in slow motion and I slowly realized that I should be photographing these great sights. Dave and Aaron, standing on the peak, were shouting at me to get a move on. I was not really perturbed and could not see the point in rushing.


Somehow we were the first there. The sun rose as we stood and watched. The moment was beautiful.


More beautiful was the fact that Dave, my brother, and I had done it together. And in the process we had rekindled our brotherhood. So special!

Barafu - Ice Camp

Day 5 dawned and we were only too eager to get out of camp and into the next camp. It was now time to do this thing and we felt as if we had been circling the main event for far too long. At no time so far had we felt out of our depth or physically unable. A good thing because we were now almost at summit day; acclimatised, in one piece, and with tons of energy in reserve. We certainly could not expect better for our summit attempt!

The days walk was a whole four kilometers uphill. It was a gentle walk and we were in our tent at Barafu by mid morning. Barafu means ice in Kiswahilli and we were soon shown why. The clouds descended on us minutes after we had arrived and pelted us with rain for the rest of the day. It was thoroughly miserable and cold. So it was inside the tent with very little on the agenda for the day for us. Probably just what was required prior to the climb ahead of us. David had slipped a couple of books into his bag and so we settled down to read.

Dinner was done by 17h00, a picnic in our tent, as the porters were using our mess tent for shelter.

Our bags were packed for the big summit, and all our clothes were ready. A last sleep is all that stands between us and our attempt.

Our wake up time is 23h00. I am so excited, I just cannot wait...

Baranco Camp

I sleep fitfully for for the first time last night. This is a big step forward for me. It rains twice while I lie listening to a sleeping camp. The sound of the raindrops on the tent is comforting but does nothing to lull me to sleep. In the morning I wonder if I imagined this, as there is absolutely no evidence of rain.Every now and then I hear a tremendous roar in the distance, the sounds of massive rock falls, but acually this is the sound of the glacier ice moving forward and cracking. The sound is ominous and challenging at the same time.

We arise to another magnificant morning. The Baranco wall is revealed in all of it's vertical splendour. As is our first view of Kili and some of her glacial ice fields.

Kilimanjaro is old and tall enough to dictate her own weather patterns. By mid morning, she has accumulated a good following of cloud. By mid day, she is completely dressed in them. We have spent our last two days in those clouds. It is fascinating to watch them ebb and flow over our campsites according to her whims. When you are in the cloud, life is cold. As soon as they retreat, the sun shines on warmly. It is just like living in Cape Town, many clothing changes required daily!

We scale the Baranco wall with ease. In fact, its vertical challenge is a great alternative to the trudgery of the last few days. The rest of our walk to the Karanga campsite is quick and uneventful.Somebody once descibed this campsite as a refugee camp on a hill. It is an apt description. We arrive before lunch and wonder why we don't just head onto the next camp, just four kilometers distant, instead of wasting the day away. Many people do just this but for us, this first afternoon of leisure is a special prize. Tomorrow will be a big day for us. It will involve the short four kilometer walk, a nap, then after arising at 23h00, a walk to the summit and a long walk down again.

In my afternoon of leisure I need to keep on fighting the urge to do something. And so I find a rock outside of camp, where I can sit all on my own. Once again I am in the clouds. Suddenly the clouds of mist shift and I see the secrets that were veiled. An incredible panarama of a valley and the trail into this camp down its steep sides. Then as soon as it appeared it was gone again. In the whiteness, I wondered if what I had seen was still there or if perhaps it would all be different when the mist shifted again.

Crows wheeled all around me, their wings sounding like power kites as they passed overhead. Movement on the ground suddenly caught my eye, a four striped mouse scuttled pastl; so named for the four stripes on its back. I watched in fascination as tens of mice then abondoned their hiding places all around me and scuttled along well worn mice size trails. I got to observe as they played and fought. A rare insight into the life of a shy rodent!

What it is to be still and be able to rejoice in the moment.This trip has been an incredible gift even if this is as far as I get to go!

Moving right along

The night air is punctuated with snores, grunts, an occasional Kiswahilli conversation, and of all things a radio! My ears cannot believe themselves as snuggled deep in my sleeping bag, they are subjected to a night of foreign chatter. I toss and turn, too hot and too cold, tired but far from sleep, and so I don't. Eventually grey light filters into our tent and begs me to get going. I am certainly keen enough!
Breakfast is welcome, more so the call to action; dwende. Day 2 begins with an incredible section of rain forest, each corner giving rise to something more spectacular than the last. Surely some of these trees have seen more than a 1000 summers!
And then everything changes and I find myself transported to a slice of the Western Cape, complete with fynbos! It is an incredibly long uphill slog, no respite, just up. The clouds threaten to engulf us, their cool mists a thankful shield from the sun. We walk on and up, each of us lost in the silence of our thoughts. I find myself deep in prayer, every step a tribute to all I know.
After forever, the path starts to contour and then opens up onto the Shira Plain. Walking is easy now, and Shira Camp 1 is visible far in the distance. In time it draws nearer until I am seated and being served lunch in our mess tent. A very welcome break as we do not stop along the way due to our slow pace.
We set off practically moments after we down our lunch tools. A tough 3 hour slog awaits. More prayer and more solutions to the worlds problems. Shira Camp 2 is beyond expectations with a wonderful view of the mountain we must still face. The clouds pile up just below the camp, absolutely beautiful. The sun sets in spectatular style through the clouds, illuminating Kili in pink. I rush for my camera but fail dismally to capture this fantastic vision. Instead it is imprinted on my memory forever. In moments a cloud engulfs the camp and the temperature plummets. I manage to sneak in a phone call home and am overjoyed to talk to Donna and the boys. Isabella screamed in the background, man I love these guys! Cell phone reception has not been all it was supposed to be.
Tonight I have an action plan to ensure sleep. Heaven help anyone who dares leave their radio on all night!

And my soul took flight

Breakfast, a climb briefing, and the long drive to Londorossi gate, passes in a blur of dust and eager anticipation. The unknown lies ahead, towering over us with its snow capped dome lost somewhere in the clouds.
We meet our team of support staff, all 8 of them! A guide, a cook, and a bunch of porters. We clambour into our 4x4 mini bus taxi and aim for the trailhead that marks the start of our chosen trail; Lemoshi. It is an interesting journey along a single track through thick forest. The off road abilities of the vehicle are an absolute necessity, and it is obvious that this trip in the rain would be impossible.
We lunch here at the start of our big adventure. Tomato sandwiches and fruit, absolutely delicious! Then with packs on our backs,we set off into the rain forest. The trail just heads straight up, we are climbing a mountain after all!
Our guide sets a pace that is incredibly slow, literally a super slow dawdle. The motto on the mountain is pole-pole, slow! The slower we go now, the better we will acclimatise. We hope!
The forest is incredible! Trees that are hundreds of years old squint down on us through their beards of lichen. Vines swing in branches and tiny flowers vie for attention with their bright colours. Pretty monkeys hop, chatter, and swing, disturbed by our unusual presence.
The slow pace does something to me. I begin to forget about the big goal, and start to glory in the incredible surrounds. The beauty, the sounds of life, the smell of mother nature. My soul is filled with peace and joy. I feel at home!
The walk is not hard at our pace and after countless photographs we arrive at Nti Mkubwa, big tree, our camp for the night. We are greeted with the sight of our tents and invited to a cup of Milo. Incredibly civilised! Dinner is served in the same tent and is surprisingly good. Both Dave and I are absolutely famished and we plough through the soup, the vegetables, the roast potatoes, the meat stew, and even the mango. I am a happy man!
The campsite is filled with the hum of voices as many other parties arrive and set up camp. The sun sets in a golden light show and in the remaining darkness we realise that there is not much left for us to do but go to bed. Tomorrow is a big day as we must walk 16km and climb another 1000m.
What a day! How amazing to be sleeping on the side of Kilimanjaro! How privillaged we are!

Planes & more planes

Arrived at airport early. Got a new bag. Repacked bag to ensure all climbing essentials go hand luggage. Walk to check in. Flight to Nairobi cancelled. Booked onto new flight 4 hours later. Wangle free meal for the fun of it. Mom comes to wave goodbye. Mom takes me home.
We chat. Mom drops me off at airport. it's the second time today! Head through passport control. Take advantage of free lunch. Flight to Nairobi delayed. Air Kenya not looking like their slogan; 'the pride of Africa'. Plane departs, eventually. Read half my book. Arrive Nairobi just before 21h00. Walk off plane and onto connection to Dar es Salaam. Congratulate self on how easy that was.
Plane develops flat tyre. All passengers deplane. I read some more. We board again, much later. Arrive Dar well after midnight. I charge to the front to be first to visa application. Realisation strikes, hand luggage still comfortable on plane. Swim upstream through exiting passengers. Collect bag. Head to back of queue. Process is speedy for a change. Helps to understand the way things work in Africa. I congratulate myself on being patient.
Wait endlessly for bag. No bag. Fill out lost bag forms for second time in 2 flights. Catch taxi to hotel. Check in amidst friendly welcome. Open carry on bag. No toiletries, again. No pants for morning business meeting either!
I congratulate myself on smiling! Tomorrow will be fun and I will enjoy it.
Perhaps my stuff will even arrive...

A humble stumble

Driving a car can get you killed, whether you plan for that to happen or not. Been driven can have the same consequences. Simple decisions that we make every day can make the difference between life and death.
I often wonder about the decisions that I make on a daily basis. Some are obviously more risky than others, like surfing in big surf, running down mountains, or playing beach soccer with some of my neighbours! The chances of being injured are rather high, but dying would be extraordinary.
Going off to climb Kili is one of those decisions I have made. And yes dying is a real possibility. Dying on this mountain is not because of the extreme weather conditions, although they may be uncomfortable. Instead it is the high altitude that is the sneaky killer.
Altitude sickness is completely preventable in all its forms. The remedy is to descend and to descend fast. The problem comes in the form of highly driven individuals focussed on a singular goal. Individuals who won't turn back just beacause of a few unpleasant symptoms. Ahem, guys like me!
There is a fine line at high altitude between toughing it out and listening to one's body. There is a lot of humility involved too. Do I have it in me to fail? To give it up in sight of the goal because it may be too risky?
We have just flown over Kilimanjaro. It lies thousands of feet below the plane, yet I feel it's prescence, a completely unknown. I am humbled by the thought that I may have some real decisions to make on the side of this rock pile. Big decisions! Funny how the remote possibility of death can do that to one!
Humility feels alien to me. I certainly have a long way to go if I want to live a humble life of service to others! Perhaps the decisions I make here will not only affect my climb but the way I plan to live the rest of my life.

As slow as possible

Today was supposed to be a frantic rush of last minute preparations interspersed with work deadlines. Instead all of the pieces of work fell into place yesterday, leaving today free.

What a gift!

I thought I might sneak off for a surf. The beast swallowed my surfing kit for the trip to the beach, only to return with it all in the same dry condition. The waves were appalling!

Instead I found myself at mass. That’s right, church on a Wednesday morning. It was beautiful, better than the surfing could ever have been. It struck me that throughout the world, all day, every day, hundreds of masses are being said. That there are people praying for others, all of the time! I found that comforting, and added my own prayers to the pot.

Now I have a whole day to do the things I need to do, at the slowest possible pace!

Which by the way is the secret to climbing Kili; doing it at the slowest possible pace. It is said that smokers and overweight people are most likely to summit. Smokers have an advantage because they are used to breathing less oxygen, and overweight people are used to going slower. Young fit people are least likely to summit because they go too fast and don’t acclimatise. Essentially the atmospheric pressure at the top of Kilimanjaro is only 20% of that at sea level. In other words, it is five times harder to get the same amount of oxygen into ones lungs.

Climbing this mountain is going to teach me a lot!

I am going to push technology to the limit and post directly to my blog from the mountainside. I hope you will follow my journey with a wry smile and lots of enthusiasm!

Keep on walking

I am not sure if I shared my plans to climb Kilimanjaro. If not, I am off to climb Kilimanjaro very soon! It should be incredible, not just the climb and the challenge, but the fact that I get to share all those amazing experiences with my brother.


Theoretically one should train for this great excursion. The best training is of course hiking, and lucky for me, I have a mountain not five minutes drive from my house. Of course having a mountain is far from actually doing anything with it. Somehow my training plan has included all sorts of exercise except hiking, and so this week it is all about the mountain.


On Monday I was on fire. With arms pumping and sweat flying, I climbed the first peak, touched the trig beacon, stopped for three minutes to extract some fruit, and headed back down again. The round trip took me 2 hours and 3 minutes. Not a bad effort at all for a 10km hike with a climb of just over 900m up and down again.

Tuesday found me a little tired after Monday’s effort, but there will be no rest for tired limbs on the big mountain, so I forced myself back. I chose to walk up on the same route that I came down the previous day. It was incredibly tough, and I got to the saddle just below the peak in surprisingly good time. I then changed my plans and decided to climb the Porcupine Buttress, the highest peak in the range. I suspected that it would not be much more difficult that the first peak. I was very wrong!

The path went over the saddle and then started to descend. That was particularly annoying considering I had fought so hard to get that high in the first place. The path took me under some sheer cliffs and above some sheer cliffs and was thoroughly spectacular. Stellenbosch, Table Mountain and the Atlantic Ocean were spread out in front of me. I even passed a fixed camera, which I deduced had been set up to film a potential leopard’s lair. I waved and made the required silly faces, hopefully creating good entertainment for somebody lulled to sleep by boring images of nothing. After hugging the side of the mountain for some time, the trail ended in a rocky stream that trickled down a small mountain valley. Well actually up, because I was somewhere in the middle of it. What followed was a wet splash up an almost vertical rock strewn path on all fours. The path went on forever and then suddenly it was no longer almost vertical but just incredibly steep. Finally I heaved myself onto the top of the valley to the disturbing view of sheer rock cliffs rearing into the heavens. I quickly deduced that my mental calculations of the effort required to mount this mountain had been thoroughly wrong.

Needless to say the path continued with me upon it. It headed improbably towards the cliffs and then tracked an obscure route that went upwards with me once again on all fours. It was agony. I could see the top but it never came any closer, until all of a sudden it did. And then I realised that it was not the top at all, but one of those endless peaks on route to the top of a never ending mountain. From here on though, it was all about boulder hopping, joy to my screaming muscles. At one point, a jump between two rocky outcrops with a big drop between them was required. So right up my alley!


After prancing between boulders like a love sick gazelle forever, another trig beacon materialised in the distance. I pranced until it was just two small peaks away. At the time, it seemed just far enough to rest my shaking legs and suck in the incredible vistas displayed in front of me. Exploring is tough, but sometimes the benefits are incredible!

I left the touching of this trig beacon for another trip and decided to save my remaining strength for the perilous descent. I came very close to pitching myself head first down the mountain on a number of occasions. The descent would have been quick, the recovery absolute hell! I heard my mother though, loud and clear, ‘be careful!’ I was obviously careful enough as I made it down in a whopping 3 hours and 20 minutes. Again not bad for about 12km of hike with a 1100m climb up and down. I have to say that it was tough, which is probably exactly what Kili will be like when I get to climb on her back!


Perhaps tomorrow will find me back out there again...