Back in the US of A

I’ve been back in the States now for 17 days and haven’t been able to bring myself to write about the trip.  It has all been so overwhelming, exhausting, exhilarating, and devastating.  Plus, I’ve been sick and jet lagged.  But I’m finally starting to surface back into normalcy, so I will attempt to put words to paper (or to computer screen, as it were) and tell you about those days on Kilimanjaro.  I will be lucky to remember half of what happened, but using my photos as a guide, I’ll do my best.  Of course, if any of my fellow climbers are reading this and remember something significant, please post in the Comments below.

The Short Version of the Trip:  It was f*cking epic.

Warning:  Some Viewers May Find This Material to Be Offensive

So, this is my blog, and my goal is to tell it how it was.  I don’t plan on holding back much on what happened and what was said at times.  I intend to fully display my feelings, emotions, and observations.  Well, okay, I’m not going to put EVERYTHING on here, but I want this to be the real experience, not watered down, if only for my own benefit.  If you’re interested in hearing what it was really like to climb the mountain from this chick’s perspective, read on.

Commence Operation #DirtyFreedom

September 20 was the big day.  We ate a good breakfast at the Mount Meru Hotel and congregated in the lobby with all of our stuff in tow.  Everyone had an expedition bag of some type, and on the previous day, Jeff scrutinized each individually to ensure that no bag exceeded the 35 pound threshold, as we wouldn’t want our porters to be carrying more than that.  I passed easily but opted to leave some jerky and other seemingly non-essential items behind.  (Later, I was Jonesing for that jerky, but alas it was not there.)

Before we boarded our bus to commence Operation #DirtyFreedom, I took a few pictures at the hotel. All of us were eager to go–and we smelled good.  I savored the sweet aroma of freshly-washed hair, knowing full well that THAT fragrance was being left behind for seven days and would be quickly replaced by “essence de landfill.”  Don’t we look clean?

After driving for what seemed like hours, we arrived at the Machame Gate (roughly 6,000′) at 11:25 am.

Jeff told us to get our day packs, find our lunches, and chill out until he could get our climbing permits and unload our expedition bags for the beginning of the hike up the “hill.”  It was right about then that I got my first glimpse of our skilled African climbing contingent:  porters, guides, cooks, and other staff.  They all looked so happy and competent, immediately putting me at ease!  They jumped into action, unloading our gear and assigning it to the various porters.  Elirehema “Eli” Malewo was my porter, but I didn’t meet him until later that day when I arrived at camp.  (Thanks, Eli!)  For the uninitiated, porters carry your gear for you, bless their hearts.  The guides are trained on the route and also in caring for climbers’ needs, including medical.  All of the staff I encountered were well-trained and very able. All were essential for a safe and meaningful climb, as I was soon to learn.  Without them, there is no climb.

We waited around and took pictures at the gate, and at last it was time to sign the official climbing  register and start the journey.  With great excitement and trepidation, we crossed the gate onto the trail and started heading towards our first destination: Machame Camp.  I couldn’t believe it:  after all that waiting and training since April, we were really truly on the freaking KILIMANJARO MACHAME ROUTE!!!  Holy shit!!  It was do or die now.  My stomach was turning somersaults, but I was excited.  And I was already starting to worry about the Great Barranco Wall (more on that with Day 4’s write-up).

At this point, we were in jungle-like surroundings, with a few monkey sightings here and there.  I thought there would be more animals, but either I was missing them or they weren’t there.  The hike covered approximately 6.2 miles and climbed just under 4,000′, leaving us at the end of Day 1 at 10,000′.  For reference, that is about equivalent to the lodge at Copper Mountain Ski Resort in Colorado.

Being a sea level denizen, it didn’t take long before I could feel the effects of the thinner air.  My heart and respiration rates increased, and I knew I wasn’t in Kansas anymore.  The trail was not difficult–it just climbed for a long time, and as we did so, we had a little less oxygen available because of the lowering atmospheric pressure.  I kept up with the pack for most of the day, and we had some interesting and hilarious moments as we climbed.  The most memorable was when we stopped for a quick break and some snacks.  It was here that I had my first encounter with one of Kili’s infamous outhouses.  It fully lived up to my expectations.  After being nearly knocked out by the full-on nasal assault, we concluded it was really just better to do your business in the woods, but The Badger had come fully prepared for this aspect of the climb:

This “latrine mask” was infused with a lovely lavender-peppermint-eucalyptus blend, which drove away all manner of evil outhouse spirits.  (Seriously–it worked!)  When Memmy Staber saw it, I think she may have blown a gasket.  Right, Mem?  During the rest of the hike, climbers behind me commented on the nice bouquet of eucalyptus emanating from The Badger’s day pack, as I had unintentionally over-doused the mask, and it was reeking of eucalyptus.  I think it was uplifting, though.  I liked it, but I hoped it didn’t offend anyone.

Speaking of the call of nature, I remember being thrilled about being able to use my Freshette Female Urinary Director for the first time in the wilds of Kilimanjaro.  Sadly, however, when the time came, I was pee-shy.  I found a spot off-trail, out of sight, but try as I might, it wasn’t happening.  This caused great consternation and giggling on the part of my nearby KiliSistas, who encouraged me to let ‘er rip.  I was not so amused because my bladder wanted–no–NEEDED–to empty!  Fortunately, THAT problem went away very quickly, and by the end of the trip, I could easily drop my pants and pee in front of a football stadium full of climbers, porters, and guides.  By then, you simply don’t give a damn.

During another break, another memorable event occurred, which, unfortunately, is not memorialized in a photograph.  While I was posing for a picture, Heather Thomson reached over and grabbed my right breast.  No, it was not an accident.  Oh, how I wish we had a picture of my face–and hers.  Priceless!  So ya’ll can be jealous of my right boob now.  I mean, seriously.  How many people can say that their “girls” were squeezed by Heather Thomson?  Well, I CAN!  It was crazy moments like these that made the trip memorable and bearable.  Humor is the best antidote for any type of suffering.

As we neared our destination for the day and the air continued to thin, it became a little more difficult.  Remember:  just two days prior, I was at my home at 100’ elevation in Seattle.  I am a staunch believer in “my pace is THE pace,” and so I slowed some to keep my heart rate in check.  Soon I found myself alone on the trail, shadowed by my first Tanzanian guide of the trip:  Goodlove (Note:  This pic is actually from another day, but it’s the only good one I have.)

Goodlove was a delight.  He had such a lovely disposition, was patient, and encouraged me as we continued towards camp.  “You are doing great,” he would say with a big smile.  When I worried about my slower pace, he would quietly reassure me with “hakuna matata,” which translates to “no worries.”  As we hiked, he taught me some other Swahili words, which I ended up using the entire trip.  Most important, though, was the word for “badger” in Swahili, which I have unfortunately forgotten.  One of these days I’ll figure out what it was.  I think it begins with an M.  I was so impressed with his company and assistance, but it was only the beginning.  As you will learn as I continue to tell my story, the African guides and porters were the best part of the trip.

Eventually we reached a clearing, and I got my first really clear view of Kilimanjaro.  What struck me most was how far away she was–the Machame trail is 32 km, so it’s not like Mount Rainier here in Washington State where you drive up to Paradise and the mountain is right there.  Kili conceals herself and does not allow herself to be revealed on the trail until you put out some.  Here is a picture Goodlove took of me at that spot, which was incidentally also right outside our camp for the night.  It is difficult to see Kili in this pic, but trust me:  she’s there, and she was waiting for me.

Upon arrival, I was immediately shown to my tent, which was all set up and ready to go.

Eli introduced himself to me, and I remember being comforted by his friendly face. I don’t think Eli would mind me borrowing this pic from his Facebook page:

I don’t remember the order of things after that, but I definitely ate dinner and continued drinking a shitload of water to avoid dehydration and altitude sickness.  If there’s one thing I did right on Kili, it was consuming water.  I had at least the requisite five liters each day.  (Yes, five liters.  Picture 2-1/2 of those two liter pop bottles and imagine drinking every drop!)  Suffice it to say that this consumption continued to hone my outdoor peeing abilities as the days passed–by necessity.  It also increased my skill at peeing in my tent at night, which sometimes didn’t go off so well, to my chagrin.  But The Badger thought to bring another very important item:  a doggie pee training pad, so I was prepared for any leakage that may have occurred while taking care of these mundane but important tasks.

Tired but invigorated, I retired to my tent and assembled my sleeping bag and other gear, preparing for the next day’s adventure.  Jeff gave us the rundown, describing the next day as “Stairmaster.”  Oh, good.  Having been one of the slower climbers, Jeff assigned me to Team Alpha, which was to leave a little earlier the next day than Team Bravo (the faster group).  That was fine for me except for the earlier wake up time.  Those of you who know me know that I am NOT a morning person!  In fact, I am the Walking Dead in the morning and frankly, I’m a little dangerous.  But I’ve had to get up early for other big adventures before, so this was just another “opportunity.”  I just felt sorry for whichever Tanzanian staff member got stuck with the unenviable job of waking up The Badger each morning to give her bed tea.  If anyone heard snarls in the morning, it was just me.  Stay away from the teeth!  The Badger bites.

Anyway, I took an Ambien and tried to sleep.  It was fitful, but I got a little.  As I fell asleep, I pondered the six days ahead of me and knew I was headed for the unknown. As my story progresses, you will find that Kili did not disappoint.  She is vicious and heartless but not incapable of being conquered.

Badger out.