Machame

7-09-07

the kili climb is fast approaching. Machame route. July 11th- July 16th

Mount Kilimanjaro.

19,336 feet - the tallest free standing mountain in the world.

It is a world unto itself, with five different ecological zones: bushland, rain forest, heath, alpine desert, and arctic. We live on the edge of the bushland, our daily runs taking us up into the coffee fields. Though  there are painfully steep bits, jogging about for a couple hours is not the preparation one might hope for the true trek.

The climb begins within the rain forest, where the air is thick with moisture, with animal cries, with oxygen.  Each zone falls back with a surprising suddenness, stripping the world away till it is just you, and the ice, and the rock, and 50% less breathable air.

There are many routes to the top, including ours. And while the experienced rock climber could choose a direct path with picks and rope, with others all you need is your own two feet and luck. Yet, Kili is proportionately one of the dangerous climbs in the world. The official death rate of 10-12 victims a year is openly acknowledged by locals as completely inaccurate. The number instead hovers somewhere around 50, though even that is nearly impossible to verify as deaths, especially of porters often go unreported.

IT BEGINS

7/10/07

who would you trust with your life?

seamus:


seamus and his brother and sister run the Marangu Hotel, an "old world style" 12-acre retreat, from which our Kili climb is organized. funny little british men, both seamus and his brother look and sound like hobbits- seamus lean where his brother is round and fidgety.

we visited the Marangu a few days in advance for some prep. luckily for us, it is just a short drive from the Doctors Compound at KCMC at which we live. seamus's "orientation" lecture for the climb was the first time it sunk in that we are actually doing this.

ernest, our lead guide:

DAY 1 hypoxic pulmonary vasoconstriction

7/11/07

obviously we made it back, though internet is so slow in moshi, i suppose i could still be posting from beyond the grave. in fact-to cut the suspense- we made it to Uhuru Peak, the highest point on the continent of Africa-which only about 50% of climbers succeed.

there is much to say about our adventure up the mountain... up the highest peak one is allowed to climb without technical skill... they gloss over the danger.

AMS- acute mountain sickness, causing nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, fatigue or weakness, insomnia. Can worsen to High altitude pulmonary edema (HAPE) and cerebral edema (HACE).
cerebral edema (swelling of the brain) is marked by sudden change in personality, drunken/unbalanced walking and a gradual loss of consciousness. pulmonary edema (fluid in the lungs), is marked by shortness of breath even when resting, extreme weakness, and confusion.

as seamus described: you just want to sit down and rest, and it seems perfectly reasonable to do so, though "The only real cure once symptoms appear is for the sufferer to move to a lower altitude as quickly as possible" there are no characteristics, genetic or physical, that will predispose one to AMS or HAPE/HACE. it strikes indiscriminately.  it doesn't matter how strong or healthy you are, how much you train. it just happens.

well. me, i guess i'm not made for the Roof, especially the hour and half spent walking from the ascent point, Stella (18,652 ft) to Uhuru. thankfully, my stepfather is a doctor and our guides were good.



sitting up there, i wanted to do nothing. i couldn't breathe. i couldn't move. mentally, the very best action, seemed to be no action at all. 


climbing the last day i could think of little, but i used the iambic pentameter of some of my old speeches to try and trudge through. on the way up, the phrase "to be or not to be" was just enough to step to.  running down the mountain would save me from hemorrhaging,  but the choice to act seemed much more complicated up there. 


breathing, dreaming... well, that seemed good.

if shakespeare were to write of my state of being at 19,340 ft- though my mind could only put together: "water. sit" -

To be or not to be, that is the question;
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing, end them. To die, to sleep;
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to — 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;
To sleep, perchance to dream. Ay, there's the rub,
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause. There's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life,
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
Th'oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office, and the spurns
That patient merit of th'unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscovered country from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will,
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all,
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pitch and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action.

it would have been a peaceful way to die, at least.

but i jump ahead.

RAINFOREST

7/11/07

we gear up to begin

i'd just like to point out this porter's awesome pants.

there were a fair amount of people climbing the mountain. at various stops we'd catch up to them, especially at the campsites.

we quickly realized that we fit in better with the porters than the other mzungu (white/euro) climbers, the majority of whom wore fancy climbing outfits and carried high tech gear. we were equipped with old jeans, sweat pants, borrowed long johns and snow jackets. but really, we've always been the 2nd-hand group in every country, on every safari. no big whoop.

the path on the first day was quite beautiful. it reminds me some of climbing in ireland and the old celtic forests.

day one is rainforest, though we were lucky to miss the rain on the way up. you have to hit it at the right time of day, and you can usually miss it. i don't really understand that, but the porters did.





the first time we climbed kili back in 2001, we only climbed to the "First Hut" which is the "Coco Cola" trail's first campsite. that time, not just Julia, John, and I, but also mother and Isaiah climbed. the first day's climb (on both that trail and this one) is only supposed to take a few hours up and an hour or so down. back in 2001, however, we went VERY slow.

by the time we returned , we were "too late". that is, our guide on that long ago day, knew that we had missed the window of no rain in the rain forest. that time, on our way down we were caught in the deluge that gives the forest its name.

on this trip, however, we made good time. we could have gone faster and indeed saw many people speed past us. but we were advised to go pole pole (slowly) even on the first day. and really, why not? we could only go as far as our first camp regardless.

better to reserve and enjoy. julia was very good at this, though john had trouble slowing down. julia and i tried to use the "picture excuse" to keep the pace slower. we both have hundreds of pictures through the rain forest.


our first campsite gave us a view of the mountain far away in the fog. it was also freezing, we thought. which didn't bode well for when it would truly be freezing.

the dinner tent with tastiness, i'm rockin a hot hat, thanks to my friend meghan

BARTLETTS REVIVE

DAY 3 pole

7/13/07


the third day, john and julia rallied amazingly well considering the night before. for me, the day foreshadowed the pain to come- or at least should have.

Machame 3rd day of a 6 day climb you walk straight up to the Lava Towers. these are the huge remnants of the volcano eruption.








from this point you are only 3 kilometers from the top "as the crow flies." as we were ascending to towers, i realized i was suddenly going at a snail's pace and julia and john had bounded ahead of me. true, the climb was very steep, but not so much steeper than areas before. i couldn't understand why the top was not getting any closer, but my breathing was getting more and more labored.

pole pole sane (very slowly) i finally arrived at the towers. it was freezing cold at the top. so cold that my hands were burning. julia and john chatted and enjoyed lunch, but i could do little more than sit in a tight ball, shielded from the wind by the rock.

i was so nauseous from the altitude i couldn't look at my lunch, but stuck to chai. stanley encouraged me to eat a boiled egg, though after one bite i fed the rest to a lone chipmunk that appeared at my feet. who knew chipmunks would be in such a cold, high place?

at the time i was glad it wasn't snowing, but it is quite sad to think barely 7 years ago it was covered with ice and now it is barren. it is might be hard to see qualitative evidence of global warming, but here on the mountain, it is undeniable.



almost worse than climbing to the lava towers was descending from them. to have come so far up only to go down!!! oh it was terrible. you work and work for your goal, only to back track all over...



this was the day we climbed up then down, then up and down through the ridges to get to the opposite side of the mountain. then, on the way down into the valley in which we would spend the night, we had to climb along a frozen stream full of loose rocks.





in the middle of this we came upon a large boulder with kiswahili graffiti as well as the line "jesus lives" scrawled across it. here we are in the middle of one of the most beautiful places in the world, one of the few places nature can still be glimpsed as feral, raw power, and man has to find a way to mark it, demean it as just another spot for human waste!






as i shook my head in disgust, i slipped and twisted my ankle. typical. pole.


our 3rd campsite










hobbling along over the treacherously insecure rocks, the last 20 minutes stretched into over an hour as we tried to preserve my foot. at camp, i immediately took some meds and elevated it, hoping for enough recovery to continue.

try to remember

is chrissy being weird?