The Snows of Kilimanjaro....or lack there of

Keith and I after descending...oh so happy to be leaving the mountain

To sum up my climb of Kilimanjaro in two thoughts:

1. Awesome. Not as in, "Duuude, it was soooo awesome" but more like I was literally in awe. Earth is amazing, simply put.

2. Boring. Really...I don't know how these mountaineering people do it. I am not much of a 'take your mind to another place' kind of girl. I recently started running (well, within the last year) and had the most difficult time when I started to actually think about something besides how long I had to run until I got to the end of the trail. Or how heavy I was breathing or how fast my feet were moving. I guess I'm not much of a multi-tasker and my mind only focuses on the monotony and sheer boredom that I am in. So, fast forward to hiking on Mt. Kilimanjaro and I am back in my early running days (I'm such a veteran with a whole 9 months under my belt) where I do not think of anything besides moving my feet and hearing bugs buzzing. For 6 hours in a row. SIX hours. It was a test of sanity at times.

Overall, it was a truly amazing experience. I am very excited that I did it. And not to pat myself on the back, but I'm very proud of myself. All in all, it was fun! I got to see an entire community and culture that I've never been exposed to and it was a very interesting experience. Keith and I survived without one single fight...which is saying a lot after spending every passing moment together in very close quarters. We do live together and all but we aren't trapped in a tent for 7 days straight in Hayden. Not to mention, men are smelly. In addition, we had just endured 25-ish (really, I lost count after the first 15) hours of flying together. Also, stuck in very close proximity of each other. We aren't really a couple that fights much at all anyway, but I thought for sure if there was a time...that would be it. But, here we are a week and a half later in Africa still going strong in our Leach-Benz union.

So, back to the point. I will give you the cliff notes of my journey but I can't promise on how much they will be abbreviated. Some have called me long-winded (*ahem* Mom and Dad) so just keep in mind that I am leaving out some details and be thankful that I am not giving you the long version.

We left for the mountain on July 4th (no Star Spangled fireworks show for us) in a van full of other trekkers anxious to climb. We arrived at Machame Gate (we climbed the Machame route, for those who care) and signed the registry books while we waited for our guide to pick some porters from the other side of the gate. Porters are the people who carry all of the equipment, food, and necessities up the mountain. Keith and I had a staff of ten. Yes, TEN. It was ridiculous. As I mentioned earlier, the park requires you to have guide and porters to stimulate the economy. We didn't know that we also would have an assistant guide, a cook, and a waiter. We also had three porters each. When we asked our guide why we each had three porters he responded that someone needed to carry the bags, the tents, the food, the cooking utensils....and the table and chairs. Wait...what?!? We were unaware that we would be eating in our own little dining room tent with a table, chairs, and often a candle. Romance at it's finest. Now before you start thinking that I had it easy and it was a luxurious experience, let me remind you that I was on a mountain for 7 days. And men are smelly. Not just Keith....like men from Africa are realllllly smelly. It was a rugged/luxury experience, if there is such a thing.

Side note: While signing the registry and waiting to get started, some porters crossed through the gate without getting permission from a guide and were quickly beaten with a stick until they crossed back onto their side. Eek! The pecking order was obvious from the beginning and I didn't realize the social rankings that were part of the mountaineering business. At our first camp we were introduced to our staff by our guide and he told us the names of the cook, the waiter, and the assistant guide, and then pointed to a group of other men standing off to the side and simply said, "and those are your porters." Apparently, chopped liver.

Our guide's name was David (pronounced Dah-veed) and he was a really nice guy. Really nice and really out of shape. That's him with me on the left on day 4 our so of our adventure. To think that I was running hills and training for this mountain while half way across the world David was upping his intake of doughnuts and fried foods was a bit disheartening. But, I also handled the mountain much better than he seemed to so it all paid off in the end. There were many times that David wanted to take a 'short break' when Keith and I were already going crazy because snails just passed us on the trail. I had read that our guide would remind us to go pole pole (slowly, slowly) but didn't realize the extent that those words would literally be taken. To his defense, all of the other groups and guides were also going just as slowly and it was to help us acclimatize to the high altitude. Keith and I just had a hard time thinking that we were acclimatizing at 6,000 feet the first day. Though in the end our pole pole cadence paid off and we summited before sunrise on July 10th.

I skipped a few days in between the 4th and the 10th. Let me back up a bit and give you the highlights. We started hiking in the rainforest the first day for about 7 miles until we hit the alpine ecosystem. It took us about 4 or 5 hours and this was when we realized we were in for a very long week. It wasn't very steep or difficult at all and it could have been done in 3 hours (or 1-2 for Keith). The rainforest was very cool, sounding just like one of those cd's that you can get at Walgreen's. Soothing, relaxing, and it smelled fresh and clean (when a porter wasn't passing you on the trail). I was sad to not see any monkeys but I think that there was a bit too much population for their vine-swinging-selves to emerge.

Then, almost instantly, we went from the rainforest to alpine where the trees were covered in lichen and the mist was surrounding us. It seemed like a fantasy world that you should see on Lord of the Rings or Harry Potter (I haven't seen either of those but in my mind that's what it would be like so if that doesn't make any sense, just use your imagination).

We arrived at camp that afternoon/evening and lied down in our already assembled tent for a bit of relaxation. I was not worn out or exhausted but lying horizontal gave me something else to do besides stand vertically and slowly move your left foot in front of your right foot. I'm telling you...it was boh-ring. Soon, our waiter came to our tent with a few bowls of hot water (something he provided to us every morning and night) to wash with. He then said something that sounded like "tea time" and we thought eh, we're okay just lying here. He came back a few minutes later and motioned if we were done with the water and then again said "tea time". Keith made a remark to himself that he would rather just hang out in the tent and I was fine with that. We were assuming that if we wanted tea or something of the likes that we could go get some from our waiter or cook. Or at least that is what we thought he was telling us. We were mistaken and when our waiter returned a few minutes later and looked at us as if we were developmentally challenged and said in very clear English, "TEA TIME!" We decided we better move our bums out to see what all the hype was about. In our dining tent was a table and chairs with a platter of popcorn and cookies and any kind of hot drink you would like. It was really cute and I felt bad that we didn't realize that this gesture was A. not optional and B. thoughtful and well prepared. After my hot chocolate and popcorn, we took a group photo with our staff.

Day 2, 3, 4, and 5 all somewhat run together as we went from camp to camp. Some were dusty, some were rocky, some all were loud. They are really some of the loudest people I've met. They shout everything at each other and one time we sat through 3 or 4 porters yelling "yo, yo, yo" to each other in different tempos and pitches for no apparent reason. Despite the lack of peacefulness at times, each day I was excited to see us getting closer to the mountain/the summit. At the same time, each day I hoped that we were done. Really, it wasn't that bad but 5 days in and no shower and more bland hiking, I was ready for some excitement. I loved the scenery and the plants. I hated the length of time it took to get anywhere.

Fast forward to our 6th day when we woke up a bit before midnight to summit the mountain. Our last camp was at 15,000 and some odd feet and the summit is 19,341 feet. Up to this point, I hadn't found any of the hiking overly difficult. It was just very long. I wasn't sore or anything but each day it felt like I had hiked multiple miles (which I had). Since before even landing in Africa, I was nervous for summit day. I knew that nothing on the mountain would be technical (i.e. use of ropes, ice axes, crampons, etc.) but I was worried about the difficulty and length. It took us almost 6 hours to reach the summit and we arrived a little before sunrise. It was long and cold. I'm glad it was dark because we just kept going and I couldn't see how far we had to go until we reached the top. When we were descending, I realized that it would have taken quite the mental toll to see how far 4,000 feet was. We passed many groups on the way up, which also made me nervous because I had read many blogs/forums that said when people passed them on the way to the summit they would later see those speedsters sick and vomiting near the top. But, I just kept following a stumbling and wheezing David and tried to stay focused on the goal. I felt great. Don't get me wrong, I was cold and winded but I didn't have any sign of altitude sickness, which was part of what had me so worried. We had spoken with an Austrailian couple at our last camp who had just come down and they said many people were sick, throwing up, and turning around near the summit. I felt fine all the way, and was boosted by Keith's altitude report each 1,000 feet. I was super stoked to hear him tell me when we were at 18,000 feet because I knew we wouldn't have much farther to go and I was going to make it. Well, we made it (after a very windy ridge where we heard many people got sick but didn't see anyone sick there) and were some of the first to summit that morning. We celebrated, took a few quick pictures, and skeedaddled to start down. I was on an adrenelin high and was in a bit of shock that I actually did it.

Then about 2,000 feet down, my high turned into altitude sickness and I was pretty nauseous until we got to camp. It felt like I had the flu. I was cold and clammy but hot since the sun was on me. I dry heaved a few times but didn't have much in my system besides some energy goo and water. Still, I felt much better than many people still heading up to the summit that we passed or some turning around and coming down. Some looked like death warmed over (is that the saying??? or is it 'death wormed over'?...I never know so enlighten me please). We encouraged the ones still trekking along telling them they were almost there. Many were holding onto their guides for support as they staggered on. There was a few coming down that were completely pale (or green) and stumbling, falling, and leaning on their guides to help them down. So even though I wasn't feeling top notch, I was happy that I was able to make it down on my own and felt bad for those who didn't summit.

After a few hour nap and some lunch at our camp, we descended another 5,000 feet for our last night on the mountain. We slept one final time in the misty rainforest until hiking out the final 5,000 feet on the morning of the 10th. Each person we passed as we were going down and they were coming up was a great morale booster. It was the best feeling to give them tips and tell them how the summit was while knowing that I was done with the entire ordeal. Still now, at our hotel, other climbers that are soon departing are asking for advice and I am soooooo glad that I am not in their shoes. I loved the experience but as I told Keith on oh, about day 2.....this will be my last mountain. Maybe some hikes around the Northwest and possibly another Cascade mountain or two is in my future but nothing like this. It's like sky diving or bungee jumping....it's a good one time experience. I've heard first time mothers say similar things after they give birth. So, maybe I'll get "mountain fever" again and want to climb something sometime in my life. After all, I think the 7 days of labor was similar to giving birth...right? Also, I was exhausted and starving for a cheeseburger afterwards. :)

Well, there's the short version. If you would like the long version or more details then clear your schedule and invite me over for a drink. Keith and I are now in Moshi getting ready to go on a three day safari tomorrow. I'm very excited to meet some new animal friends and have a feeling that this may be my favorite part of the trip. Ever since I did a report on Kenya in the 3rd grade, I've dreamed of coming to Africa to see the exotic animals. And here I am.

Cheers.

*We have since returned from our safari and are now in Dar es Salaam on our way to Zanzibar. I will post pictures and many more posts that I have saved to our little mini laptop as soon as an interet connection allows. Hang tight... :)