January 20: EPILOG -- Nursing my wounds, and savoring the glow.

January 20: EPILOG -- Nursing my wounds, and savoring the glow.

I've waited two weeks to write the epilog, simply to give me a bit of perspective. The trip back was amazingly easy, and flying west at night away from the sun, the night was 14 hours long. I took advantage of that extended darkness to catch up on sleep, and of course the last 4 episodes of season 8 of the "walking dead." Damn, Negan finally got his "Just Desserts."

I've got several key observations from the trip.

First, my Climbing partner Leighanne was awesome. For someone who has never really climbed a big, alpine style peak, Kilimanjaro was a big step. She persevered and was victorious. Kudos to her.

Second, my "Bionic Knee," repaired following multiple surgeries after my near fatal accident on Ararat, held up brilliantly. In fact, three weeks, on its one of the few body parts that is NOT sore. Especially on the downhill, where the quad and knee strain was extreme, the quad muscle graph/pin and tendon allographs (zombie tendons) held up at least equal to my real knee. Thanks to Dr. Stanton Davis and his staff at The Huntsville Orthopedic Center (THC) for the bangup job they did.

Third, in spite of our President's proclamations, Africa in general and Tanzania in specific are not "S-holes." Tanzania is a vibrant and rich culture, with a hard-working and enterprising people. The physical climbing skills and endurance of the mountain guides and porters was amazing. Our guides were intelligent, thoughtful, experienced, and highly skilled. Their knowledge of mountain sicknesses equaled any MD I've ever met. I the interest of international unity, I'm resisting writing the truly disparaging things I want to write about our "great" president and his right wing entourage. So I'll play nice today.

Finally, my African experience was completely different than my previous international climbing experiences.  The Tanzanian phrase “pole-pole” (take it easy) was truly a working motto. This approach stood in stark contrast to the Macho attitudes of climbers in the Andes; or the suspicious, non welcoming attitudes of the climbers and guides in Turkey. Of course my attitude towards climbing Ararat was obviously colored by the fact that I nearly died on the trip. Coming back in one piece certainly helps to generate rose colored memories.

Just got back from a scramble up Ecker Hill in Park City. The new snow was deep and dense. The final half mile to the summit was deep unbroken trail. Took me a half hour to finish that part. In any other circumstance, that scramble but have been adventurous. But having just returned from Kilimanjaro, the experience was — well — rather banal!

Logging out, Jan. 2019. See you on Mt. Kenya, February 2020!

Climb Day 7: January 2 Descent from Millennium Camp (12,500 ft.) to Mweka Hut, Park Exit at Mweka Gate (5400 ft.)

 

Machame Route Final Day, Desecent from Millennium Camp to Mweka Gate.  

 

The final day of the climb was nearly all downhill; and one would think that the 14 kilometers from Millennium Camp to the Park Exit at Mweka Gate would be a piece of cake. One would be wrong. On that final night in the mountains the condensation from the cold, humid tropical nights had seeped into everything, and every article of clothing I possessed, including my down sleeping bag, was thoroughly damp. Wearing three layers of clothing I hunkered down and slept fitfully through that very long night. I awoke several times shivering.

Eventually, I gave up and crawled from my bedroll around 5:30 in the morning, and started walking brisk laps around camp in order to get warm. Even before beginning the downward trek, I was thoroughly exhausted; the successive night of marginal sleep and intense effort were finally taking its toll. Yep! It was gonna be another long day! The sun rose at 7:15, sending its tropical warmth like a gift from heaven.  Recall that January is the peak of summer in the southern hemisphere. So once the sun rises, the temperature warm quickly, even at 13,000 ft. altitude. That!, was a welcome relief.

The upper moorland woodlands of Millennium camp had an almost familiar fee, strongly reminding one of the pinion and juniper forests of northern New Mexico, and the High Desert of Southern California. The ground was also incredibly rocky; which did not make for easy downhill hiking. As we started down the trail to Mweka camp, the trail degenerated into a series of mini cliff faces 10 or 15 feet in height. Each face had to be carefully down climbed, and in some places the effort was made more difficult by the stream course running right through the middle of the trail. The wet, rocky surfaces were as slick as butter. 

Upper Moorland Woodland Flora.

The 4 kilometers down to Mweka camp seemed to take forever; however, in fact it took precisely three hours and 10 minutes. There, the trail transitioned from a rocky stream bed to a better prepared clay path; unfortunately, heavy rains the night before had saturated the clay, and like the rock surfaces the clay path was extremely slippery. The trail would level out for some pleasant walking, followed by 20 minutes of agonizing steep downhill requiring large deep steps over logs, rocks, and trail dykes; all while struggling not to land heavily on one's posterior due to the slick clay surface. This trail section was especially bad on my already worn-out quadriceps. It was like a three-hour long weight session in the Gym!

 Mweka Camp, the last Marquee on the Machame Trail!

 

The Slippery Clay Single Track from Mweka to the Park Exit.

  The final 10 km of trail took about three hours to complete. For the last hour, the trail mercifully opened up to a wide, well-graded double track, and were able to scurry the final two kilometers without "Fear of Dumping." Finally, the park gate came into view, and the Machame trek was officially over. You would think that I'd was nostalgic at this point; but, the truth was all I wanted was a beer and something substantial to eat. I wanted no more cliff bars, gorp, and candy. I needed real food.  

 

  The Final Section of Double Track to the Park Exit.

 

 End of the Machame Trail at Mweka Park Exit Gate. 

"Pork Magic" in Moshi. Now that would be a Real Meal. 

Enjoying our Post-Climb "Pork Magic" and Fried Banana Meal in Moshi. 

Finally, Back at the AMEG Lodge in Moshi. It felt so good to be warm again. 

  Our Climb "Diploma" Certifying that we'd Successfully Climbed Kilimanjaro.

Climb Day 6: January 1 Summit Day! Barafu Camp (14,950 ft.) to Kibo Summit (19,341 ft.), Descent to Millennium Camp (12,500 ft.)

 

Machame Route, Summit Day.

Summit day was far and away the most difficult climbing day of the trip. In order to ensure that we get back down well before sunset, we rose at 4:00, did a final gear assembly and ate a simple meal of coffee, millet porridge, pineapple and mango. My stomach was so topsy-turvy from nervousness, that I could barely eat. The wind was howling; and the chill factor must have been at least 15 degrees below freezing centigrade. I pretty-much put on every wind-proof layer that I had available. Finally, wearing headlamps, 6 of us, 2 climbers, out 2 guides, and two porters -- Emanuel and "John Gooday" -- set out into the inky blackness. The wind was cold and biting. I had to take off a glove to rearrange my pack, and my hand was numb within seconds. Yep! It was gonna be a long day!   

The climb got steep almost immediately after we passed the Barafu hut, with steep slopes of granite rock that required one to "duck walk" with feet splayed sideways in order to stay balanced. Loose pumice balls on the rock surface acted like ball bearings -- hit them wrong and your feel rolled out from underneath. At this altitude, the climbing effort was extreme. The omni-present winds roared across the slopes adding to the cold and fatigue factor. I'd estimate the sustained winds to have been 25-30 kts, with gusts higher than 60 kts.

High Winds Across Summit Ridge, Causing Ridge Wave Contrails.

After about 45 minutes we reached a flat plateau at the unofficial "Kosovo Camp" that allowed us a short respite to grab a drink and reorganize our packs for better load distribution. From the plateau we entered onto the infamous scree slopes. At This point the trail is now higher than the summit of Mount Blanc (15,771 ft.), the highest point in Western Europe.   

Climb Up to Summit Ridge, 16,500 ft.

Break Time on the Ridge Ascending to Stella Point.

Leaving the plateau, we climbed to the left up to the edge of the ridge. The climbing consisted of large boulders with requiring both class 2 and class three scrambling; the mean slope was incredibly steep maybe 30 or 35 degrees. Once we reached the ridgeline, the terrain dropped off very steeply to the north, maybe 2000 or 3,000 ft. straight down. Climbing the 850 Ft. Baranco wall did not affect; however, this drop off gave me vertigo! I made a point of looking away to the right and ignoring the abyss to my left. We ascended the ridge for more than 1000 feet. At this point we could look directly across the valley at the level of the summit of the spectacular Mt. Mawenzi.  

 

At 17,000 ft. the Spectacular Summit of Mt. Mawenzi. 

The ridge eventually hits a sheer wall, and required us to drop down to the "switchbacks" -- a crude trail dug into the volcanic scree by the myriad climbers who have passed thru previously. The loose miserable scree slope, sometimes steeper than 40 degrees, continued on-and-on for at least two hours. For each thee steps up, I would lose a full step down due to the slippery and loose volcanic scree. At this point we started to catch some of the teams that had left earlier, with knackered climbers sobbing and puking; and porters looking like they'd been run over by trucks. The climb became sort of a self-invited orgy of pain! Mt. Mawenzi had now disappeared into the clouds far below.

Mt. Mawenzi Disappears into the Clouds.

At altitude of 17,500 ft. we could finally see Stella Point (18,848 ft.). Stella Point marks the start of the crater rim, and offers a considerable lessening of the slope steepness on the final approach to the summit. From the ridge, Stella Point seemed impossibly higher and high and far away. However, another 90 minutes of persistence brought us to the very steep final push to Stella Point and the Crater Rim. The final push, though only about 100 ft. of vertical relief, seemed to take forever due to the loose scree and extreme altitude. Finally, we drug our carcasses onto the flat at Stella point. At an altitude of 18,885 feet, we now stood at an altitude greater than Mt. Elbrus, the highest point in Europe.

Finally! Stella Point and the Kibo Crater Rim.

Once the crater rim was achieved at Stella Point, the climb slop lessened significantly, and the summit was a mild one-hour rick to the actual highest point. At this altitude the perpetual icefields of the Rebmann Glacier came into close up view. These spectacular ice formations were more than a hundred feet high and shone crystal white.  The Kibo caldera dropped 400 feet below, and was filled with a corn-snow of almost spring-like consistency. The slope was surprisingly gentle and would have been quite skiable, maybe a low-grade black diamond run. Man! It would have been a great ski. Dropping off the rim and telemarking back and forth across the slope, what a fantasy. Alas, skiing on Kilimanjaro is Quite Illegal!

 

Rebmann Glacier Ice Fields.

  

Man! It would have been fun to drop into one of the Chutes along the Crater Snowfield. 

  After an uneventful 1-hour walk, we finally reached the summit. For the entire time I was rehearsing who I was going to call, and what I was going to say on the Cell phone. Once we got there, no service, figures! Relieved the team all posed for pictures, and we passed around a flask of High Grade Bourbon I'd gotten at the Jack Daniels Distillery in Lynchburg TN the previous summer --- just for this special occasion. Man! was it good stuff.

Obligatory Summit Victory Shots. 

I had way-underestimated the difficulty of the way down. By the time we got back to Stella Point, my legs were getting rubbery, and working back and forth across the loose, treacherous scree with weakened legs was a major challenge. From Stella Point, took more than three and a half hours to get back to the Barafu camp. By time I got to Camp, I was completely Knackered. Just as I sat down to recover, I learned that after lunch, the team was going to break camp and continue down-mountain another 5 miles and 3,000 ft. of elevation to Millennium Camp. I wanted to protest; but knowing that the guides were right here, Leighanne and I relented and packed for the additional 2+ hour downhill hike. The down climb passed without incidence, and we made it to camp just before dusk. Whew! what a day. 

 

 

Summit After Late Afternoon Descent Barafu Camp.

 

Summit Storm Moving on, As seen from Millennium High Camp. 

  

Rescue Chopper. Not Everyone Made it off in one Piece!

  

Millennium Camp and the Successful End of a VERY! Long Day.