As we were setting of the next morning, that evening involved meeting up with Nadine, a South African friend now living in the UK; repacking our gear to ensure it was organized and waterproofed in our gear bags and backpacks and having a good dinner to give us energy for the first day of hiking. Eating would quickly become a theme of the trip as we needed to keep our energy up and Sean would watch us like a hawk to assess if altitude was affecting our appetites. Scrambled eggs never tasted the same for me from three thousand metres onwards and my daily coffee became unpalatable, however it is apparently normal for one’s tastebuds to go awry at altitude.
Our planned itinerary was a seven day hike (five days up and two days down the mountain) of the Machame route. On the first day, we registered at the Machame gate (1980m), where we met our Tanzanian guides, Bongo and Bertus. With over five hundred summits between them, Nadine and I were instantly put at ease by their humour and friendliness. Although when Bongo mentioned, ‘You are going to kill the mountain, not the mountain kill you’, I quickly replied that I’d like to take it ‘pole pole’ or ‘slowly slowly’ as the Tanzanian porters say.
At the end of day one we arrived at the Machame camp at 3000 metres to find our tents already set up. The realities of camp life set in quickly as we were introduced to the long drop toilets or ‘internet cafes’ as our guides humorously referred to them due to the aerial pipes used to air them. It was a far politer way to ask where the toilet was and each camp was introduced citing it’s attributes. Bertus introduced one of the camps by saying that ‘there were seven internet cafes with good computers, however if you wished to use your laptop, please find the nearest bush or rock’. We were afforded the luxuary of one tent per person and a thermarest mattress to smooth out any bumpy ground. The nights were cold and we slept bundled in thermal underwear, fleece tops, a thermal sleeping bag inner and a -15 degrees C sleeping bag and as we got higher on the mountain, beanies, gloves and buffs were added.
Day two took us from Machame camp through mystical heath and moorland, complete with rolling mists and Grandfathers beard hanging off every available branch. It was a dry and dusty path as there had been very little rain recently and we climbed some very rocky terrain to the highest point of the day at 3900m before descending to Shira camp at 3800m.
We quickly descended down into the valley from Lava tower as we headed towards the Barranco camp at 3980m, as part of the climb high, sleep low acclimitisation strategy. We quickly felt stronger as we descended through my favourite terrain of the trip. The Giant Lobelia and waterfalls were almost reminiscent of prehistoric times and I kept expecting a Triceratops to come loping around the corner.
Early the next morning after our daily ‘bath in a bowl’ and wet wipe shower we climbed up Barranco wall, ascending from 3980m to 4800m. It was not a technical climb however involved a bit of rock scrambling, which was surprisingly fun! I did wonder how the porters managed carrying in excess of fifteen kilograms on their heads and backs. The entire days hike took three hours, winding up and down Karanga valley until we finally arrived at Karanga camp at 3950m. At camp, we had the customary hot drink, popcorn and marie biscuits waiting for us. At altitude, my taste buds had gone slightly awry and I could no longer stomach coffee or scrambled eggs. Peanut butter and jam sandwiches became my new mountain craving while we played cards and talked about the day.
We trudged uphill in the eternal darkness, our feet slipping backwards with every step we took in the loose sand and shale. A freezing wind kept picking up and I had to think of every happy thought I could to chase away the cold and I kept wondering whose bringht idea this had been. We eventually put on our down jackets, which instantly kept me warm. I refocused my thoughts on making it to sunrise and kept watch for the morning star. On our short breaks for a drink and a Sparkle, Nadine and I often glanced at each other and shook our heads. Fatigue and tiredness due to the thinner air was definitely setting in. It was indeed one of the toughest nights I have endured. Each time I wanted a break, Bertus kept encouraging me and told me that I was strong and we would stop a little further up. I can’t recall if those stops ever came, but I do remember focusing on breathing and putting one foot in front of the other. A while later, I started to get really drowsy and felt like I was falling asleep on my feet. So I put my ipod on in an effort to stay awake. This distracted me and gave me a huge morale and energy boost, which amused Bertus who chuckled and commented that I was awake now as I picked up the pace.
Three songs later, with the morning star on the horizon, Bongo tapped me on the shoulder and told me that we were at Stella point at 5756m. This surprised me as it was still dark at 5.45am, and was far quicker that Sean had predicted, as most groups only arrive after 7am. We had a quick BarOne break and a sip from our waterbottles, as my Camelback had now frozen before setting off for Uhuru point.
After taking our fill of the summit and it’s breathtaking views, we started to head down. Before I knew it, Bertus had me skiing down the loose sand and shale, using my ski poles for support. Such fun but quite scary to see some of the precarious terrain that we had come up in the dark. We arrived back at Barafu camp at 4600m, feeling much stronger and collapsed for an hours nap before heading down off the mountain in one day. A soft bed, a worm shower and a Kilimanjaro lager beackoned.
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