|
I will take this
opportunity to explain the inner workings of our group. Our team included
one head guide, 5 assistant guides, 6 cooks, 34 porters, and then the 12
clients for a total of 58 people. After the 12 clients began hiking, the
porters and cooks would frantically clean up the camp area, and then race
to bypass us on the trail in order to set up the next campsite. This
system always worked, as everything was set up for us when we arrived in
time for mid-day meals or camping. Mid-day meals were under a mess tent
with small stools gathered around a long table. The tent was often
necessary to keep out the driving rain or at the higher elevations, the
snowfall.
On climbs such as
these there are always the faster people forging ahead and the slower
people (for whatever reason) lagging behind. Group dynamics become
extremely important on treks like these, and if the guides are not superb
and know how to handle specific situations, there might be problems.
By midnight of the 2nd
camp I was in bad shape. We were camped at 9000 feet and already I had
terrible altitude symptoms. This was quite strange because I had slept
above 9000 feet many times and never had any problems with the altitude. I
could hardly stand up and walk to the bathroom. I was very dizzy and
seemingly getting weaker. By morning I felt a little better, but not quite
perfect. I mentioned my condition to the head guide and he said he would
keep an eye on me.
We started hiking and
I felt fine until about a mile into the hike. I started becoming quite
dizzy and much weaker. This condition worsened as I continued to hike. At
10am I caught up to the group who were waiting for me on the top of a
hill. They looked at me with worry in their eyes.
From here the trail
and I went downhill, although my physical condition kept going downhill
even after the trail began to climb up the mountain. The rain started
again and by this time I cold barely stagger along. The head guide stayed
with me while the others in the group forged on ahead. Fortunately he had
the insight to send out word to several of the other guides that I
couldnt walk, and would need to be carried or dragged into camp. After
sitting on a rock in the cold rain for about an hour and throwing up at
random intervals, several guides appeared out of the mist and began to
help me inch forwards. Unfortunately we were climbing a steep part of the
trail so we moved very slowly.
The rest of the group
reached Camp II by early afternoon. The guides half dragged and half
carried me. At one point they would put me on their back and walk with me
until they became tired and another guide would take over. I made it to
camp just after dusk and was promptly deposited into the warmest tent in
camp, the cooking tent. Immediately after I fell into a deep sleep.
The next morning I
woke from my sleep and felt much better although I was still quite weak.
My condition for
these 24 hours can be directly attributed, not to altitude, but to a
severe reaction to the altitude-inducing drug Diamox. I was part of that
small percentage of people that have a reaction to this drug. My symptoms
were characteristic of a typical drug reaction; ringing in the ears,
dizziness, and loss of balance. At this point I was told to stop taking
the drug by just about everyone in the group. If you ever take Diamox
before climbing a tall mountain and you have never used this drug
previously, I highly recommend taking a few dosages before you actually
leave for your climb. Give yourself a couple of weeks before departure, so
that if you do get a reaction, you have time to recover.
We had steady rain
during the trek for the first 3 days. During the next few days we had
sporadic rain during the day, turning to snow and sleet at the higher
elevations. By the end of the climb towards the upper reaches of the
mountain the weather was generally fair and precipitation was at a
minimum.
During the next few
days I was a little weak but fortunately I was able to walk on my own. I
always was the last one into camp. As we climbed higher we left the
lushness of the jungle far behind. We entered the heath zone, which was a
mix of bushes and grass, but no more trees. As we climbed and the weather
slowly improved we were rewarded with outstanding views of Mt. Meru. This
mountain is approximately 16,000 feet tall and sits right next to the town
of Arusha. Each morning the skies would be clear above our campsite and we
would watch a thick layer of clouds hovering around the base of Mt. Meru
slowly ascend up to our elevation and then quickly cover us. Soon after it
would begin to rain or snow.
Our guides had
miraculously packed in bottled water for the first day and a half. This
was tremendous weight and unfortunately did not last long. Soon we were
using pills or filters to purify our water. Most of the water sources were
quite dirty and often the filters would become clogged with sediment. I
highly recommend taking 2 Nalgene hard plastic (Lexan) water bottles with
you. On some days you will find the streams are far and few between and it
is always best to have some water with you.
Our 3rd
night was spent at lava camp, just below a rock formation at 14,500 feet
called Lava Tower. The hike from Lava Tower to the Arrow Glacier camp at
15,500 feet was a short day and took only about 3 hours. Granted we did
hike in near zero visibility through a snowstorm, but the distance that
day was fairly short and steep.
The arrow glacier
camp was situated on several snowfields with many rocks showing through
the snow and ice. From this camp you could look straight up at the sheer
side of the upper flanks of Kilimanjaro. You could see exactly where you
would be hiking the next day. It was a scary, yet at the same time, an
impressive sight.
Hiking the next day
began around 6:30am. For the first ½ of this day I had my best time of
the trek. I felt great, strong, and full of energy. I led the team for
several hours up the steep face of the mountain. At times we were on all
fours, at other times we would carefully pick our way up rocky chutes, and
at other times we would stop and admire the incredible view from 17,000
feet up into the African sky. Mt. Meru was clearly visibly probably only
40 to 50 airline miles away. It was a mostly clear day, and we were at the
elevation that kept us just above the cloud layer. This was a great day
for photographs. At this elevation the clouds become more distinct more
powerful. They take on a light pink sheen that I have only seen from an
airplane.
Once we hit 18,000
feet I went downhill quite rapidly due to the effects of the high
elevation. I again had all the symptoms that I had from my earlier
reaction to Diamox. I slowed down and the entire group passed me. Once
again I was taking up the rear with a guide. I struggled up the steep rock
outcroppings. At this elevation it takes a lot of energy to put one foot in
front of the other, especially up a steep incline. Just before the crater
rim I began to vomit. I reached the crater rim and promptly threw up, but
not before I caught an impressive view of a stark landscape. I saw 50 to
100 foot tall walls of ice from the edge of the glacier in contrast to the
start moonscape looking volcanic plateau of the crater rim.
At this elevation
nothing visible grew, no plants, grass, or trees. Upon closer inspection
you might be able to find some lichens, but in my sick weakened state I
forgot to check!
I had just enough
energy to fall into a tent upon arriving at high camp at 18,500 feet. I
quickly fell into an altitude-induced stupor and lay unmoving all night. I
was only wakened once during the night and that was at midnight by guides
banging on pots and pans and yelling happy new year and happy
millennium. I said great, and fell back to sleep. By morning I
was so weak, could barely stand, and was quickly becoming disoriented, so
the guides dragged me out of my tent and threw me into a HAP bag (high
altitude pressure bag). A HAP bag simulates the effects of lower altitude.
This was a very narrow bag made of thick plastic with a small clear
plastic window, with just enough space inside to fit one person. I spent
about an hour and a half inside this claustrophobic bag. The guides slowly
increased the air pressure inside the bag and I began to feel somewhat
normal again.
As soon as they
released the pressure and unzipped me from the bag I realized just how
terrible I had been feeling. The altitude sickness grabbed me almost
immediately and with a worried look on his face, the head guide told me to
get down the mountain as quickly as possible.
I left immediately
with two guides supporting me, one on either side of me. At this point the
rest of the group left for the summit. I on the other hand headed in the
opposite direction across the vast plain of the crater stopping every
minute or so to rest or throw up. The glistening of the silvery sands
topped with a thin layer of frost was so bright I left my glacier glasses
on at all times. We hiked for about an hour across these sands until the
trail climbed quickly to the top of the crater rim before it would descend
down the mountain on the other side. Unfortunately the trail wound up to
19,000 feet before it descended. This was bad news for me. We began to
cross a lengthy snowfield to Stella Point, which is located at 19,000
feet. What would have normally taken about 10 minutes to climb at sea
level took me about an hour.
 |
|
I finally reached
Stella Point, promptly threw up, felt better, and glanced towards
another trail leading to the summit located only 340 vertical feet
away. I thought to myself that there would be no other chance to make
the summit later. I mentioned to the guides that I was interested in
climbing on. They said ok, lets go.
I left a crowd of
people sitting around Stella Point. I found out later that two people
had died at Stella just after I arrived, because
|
they did not descend after contracting
serious altitude symptoms.
[Photo above: Glacier at crater rim - 18,500 feet]
|