Kenya to Tanzania

Kilimanjaro stands at 19,340 feet - a pretty imposing view from my Nairobi/Arusha flight at 30,000. There are several routes to the summit that vary in trail days and difficulty. Our route was nine days with no technical climbing. Our route was really not much of a mountain "climb," rather, it was a nine day backpacking trip. We only needed to carry our clothing and other needs each day, with porters carrying the bulk of the load. There were 8 in our group with about 35 porters. Answer to the old riddle: "How many porters does it take to carry eight white people up a mountain?"
1/7/25

Mount Kilimanjaro

The first four days on the trail were mostly uneventful. Consistent climbing, but only 5-6 miles a day. Trailhead was at 7,500 feet, and we made camp at 14,800 on the fourth day. Good weather (mostly) with some rain most afternoons - typical mountain weather -  but everyone had the gear, so there was very little drama. Upon reaching camp at 14,800 feet, we were asked to drop our packs and climb up to 15,000, where most people who experience altitude sickness begin to display serious symptoms; i.e.; headache nausea, diarrhea, you know the Pepto Bismol song. My climbing buddy had begun to suffer from some of these symptoms earlier in the day, and they worsened as we began the additional climb. He and one of the guides returned to camp.
1/11/24

Mount Kilimanjaro 

The rest of us trudged up to 15,000, where we hung out for 20 minutes and were given cognitive, and blood/oxygen level tests. I was feeling mostly OK, but I have been at altitude a few times before, and knew what to expect. At one point early in the test hike, we had scrambled up several boulders probably five to six feet high each. This was not much of a problem, especially since we had dropped our packs at camp. Now, while we were organizing to hike back down to camp, it began to rain. Hard. Again, we all had gear, so it was nothing more than an inconvenience - until we came to the boulder field. The rain had turned them into a waterfall, with a steady, half-inch deep cascade streaming over them all. I was first in line behind our guide, who splashed down to the bottom of the first drop, turned and indicated where I should step. I did - and slipped on the wet stone. 😖 I fell on my right side, slid about a foot, dropped off the boulder, fell about two feet, and landed on a football sized stone - right on my shoulder. Poop.

Walk of Shame

It was immediately apparent that my Kilimanjaro attempt had ended. I was not really in much pain, unless I attempted to raise my right arm. Years ago, I had broken my left collarbone, and this felt very similar. The biggest issue, however, was that I could no longer carry my pack. Then, upon returning to camp, I found my friend in our tent sick and miserable - demonstrating classic altitude sickness symptoms. We spent a restless night hoping the morning might bring miraculous recovery, but our summiting was not to be.
1/12/24

Walk of Shame

This is the team that accompanied us to the rescue vehicle rendezvous. The little gal in the foreground carried her pack, my pack, and a big bag of trash. The other two carried all of the rest of our gear and our tent. 😮

This was the toughest hike so far - about eight miles downhill on loose, rocky scree. Because my arm wouldn't allow me to tie my boots on tight enough, I began to feel some blistering. My pal came to the rescue, tying my shoes like a 3rd grade teacher, but it was too late. The blisters were not bad, but that was all she wrote for my right big toe nail. 

Walk of Shame

Finally, we loaded up in the rescue vehicle, rode for a bumpy hour to the trailhead where we were shuttled to our hotel, arriving about 10 hours after we left camp.

Making Lemonade

After a hot shower and a change of clothes, we sat on the balcony of our British Colonial style hotel on a perfect warm and breezy African evening, for drinks and dinner. somehow it didn’t seem so bad - just a little sad. 🫤