Climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro
Uhuru peak, at the summit of Mt. Kilimanjaro
I am not a mountain climber, and have not been interested in that experience. But when my son Mark's creative and artistic talents were recognized and he received a Lily Endowment grant for artists, administered by the Arts Council of Indianapolis, he decided to use his grant money on a trip to Africa to climb to the summit of Mt. Kilimanjaro and asked me to go along. I said "yes" without a whole lot of thought. Training began immediately in Indianapolis (elevation 800 feet) for the climb to the summit of Mt. Kilimanjaro, over 19,300 feet. Believing that I probably would not reach the summit, we struck a deal: if one of us got sick or for any reason had to descend, the other would continue to the summit. One should not ruin the experience for both of us. Seemed like a good idea to me at the time.
The mountain
Mt. Kilimanjaro in the distance
Mt Kilimanjaro is the largest free standing mountain in the world. You can read that statement in almost any book about mountains in general or Mt. Kilimanjaro in particular, and it was just so many words on paper to me. In the USA, when we see a mountain, it is part of a mountain range, the Rockies, Alleghenies, or any one of several smaller ranges. When you see a mountain in one of those ranges, there are numerous peaks in view and it is hard to tell where one mountain begins and ends and where the next one starts. Not so with the largest free standing mountain in the world. It stands all alone, rising from and falling back onto the African plain. From the base to the summit, this famous mountain stretches for miles and miles. Then from the summit to the base at the other end many miles distant, well, you cannot see the other end. The curve of the earth keeps you from seeing the whole mountain from one end to the other. And, there are no other peaks in view, so there is no question about whether you are seeing Mt. Kilimanjaro or some other mountain.
There are 8 or 9 routes to the summit of Mt. Kilimanjaro, and 2 routes down. The 2 down routes are on paths wide enough in all places to accommodate climbers, guides and porters hauling gear, going up and going down, and passing each other. The routes up are in different degrees of difficulty. The route known as Marangu is said to be the most popular. This trail is also referred to as the "Coca Cola route" because it is relatively easy, there is no camping on this route: each night, the hikers sleep in dormitory type huts and the local rangers have cola products for sale. I passed two blind climbers on their way up while I was on my way down, each on the elbow of a guide, and I'm sure they traveled the Marangu route to the summit. We (actually Mark, I had nothing to do with this) selected the most difficult route possible to the summit. It began easily enough on the second most widely used trail, then branched off to an extremely difficult section where 3 climbers died a couple of years earlier, resulting in this part of the trail being closed for over a year. More about that later.
Mark handled all of the details for our climb and they turned out to be excellent. He found a travel operator with offices in the US and Tanzania, Good Earth Tours and Safari, decided on what we wanted (oxygen in case of emergency at higher altitudes, our own porta john in camp each night, 2 English speaking guides in case one of us had to descend early), agreed on a price and we were ready (assuming that physical ability and luck were with us). Everyone climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro must hire a Tanzanian guide. In addition, climbers can only carry a day pack, with your water, snacks, rain gear and the like. Everything else, food, tents, clothes and rest of the stuff that goes up the mountain, is carried by porters who make a living from this activity. It is a form of economic development for the locals, which was fine with us.
One last point about climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro: once you start up the mountain, there is no running water and no electricity. Think of all the things we use each day that call for water or electricity and you will not have any of those things in your week to 10 days on the mountain. As the Boy Scout motto says: Be Prepared.
There are 8 or 9 routes to the summit of Mt. Kilimanjaro, and 2 routes down. The 2 down routes are on paths wide enough in all places to accommodate climbers, guides and porters hauling gear, going up and going down, and passing each other. The routes up are in different degrees of difficulty. The route known as Marangu is said to be the most popular. This trail is also referred to as the "Coca Cola route" because it is relatively easy, there is no camping on this route: each night, the hikers sleep in dormitory type huts and the local rangers have cola products for sale. I passed two blind climbers on their way up while I was on my way down, each on the elbow of a guide, and I'm sure they traveled the Marangu route to the summit. We (actually Mark, I had nothing to do with this) selected the most difficult route possible to the summit. It began easily enough on the second most widely used trail, then branched off to an extremely difficult section where 3 climbers died a couple of years earlier, resulting in this part of the trail being closed for over a year. More about that later.
Mark handled all of the details for our climb and they turned out to be excellent. He found a travel operator with offices in the US and Tanzania, Good Earth Tours and Safari, decided on what we wanted (oxygen in case of emergency at higher altitudes, our own porta john in camp each night, 2 English speaking guides in case one of us had to descend early), agreed on a price and we were ready (assuming that physical ability and luck were with us). Everyone climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro must hire a Tanzanian guide. In addition, climbers can only carry a day pack, with your water, snacks, rain gear and the like. Everything else, food, tents, clothes and rest of the stuff that goes up the mountain, is carried by porters who make a living from this activity. It is a form of economic development for the locals, which was fine with us.
One last point about climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro: once you start up the mountain, there is no running water and no electricity. Think of all the things we use each day that call for water or electricity and you will not have any of those things in your week to 10 days on the mountain. As the Boy Scout motto says: Be Prepared.
Climbing day 1
Machame gate, Mt. Kilimanjaro
Our driver/guide from Good Earth Tours and Safari met us after breakfast at our hotel, which was several miles distant from the mountain. A local driver, our guide and assistant guide for the climb, the cook for the trip and a few of the porters were with him. After introductions, Mark and I were turned over to the mountain crew. We left in their vehicle and stopped in a village on the way to Mt. Kilimanjaro while the cook bought some menu items for the next week. Then we headed up the mountain on a dirt "road," if you could call it a road. At about the 5,000 foot elevation, the national park began and the villages and farms ended. We entered the national park and signed in on a large, oversize book similar to what you once found in county recorder or county clerk's office in this country: our name, passport number, guide leader's name and a few other details. This process would be repeated at each ranger station on the mountain. I never did learn what happens to all of this collected information, or where those over size books go when they are full.
The gear for our climb was then weighed and our guide was told by the authorities how many porters would be needed for our group. A porter is supposed to carry no more than 35 to 40 pounds, so total weight of the food and gear determines the total number of porters for each group. Our guide then hired the additional porters needed for this trip from the many young men waiting around and hoping to be hired. For the climbing group of Mark and I, we had 6 porters, one cook plus the guide and assistant guide. The loads were distributed and, while this was going on, Chris, the assistant guide, began leading Mark and I up the mountain. "Pole, pole, pole" (pronounced pole-lay) is Swahili for "slowly, slowly, slowly." We heard it early and often on the trip. The idea is that our guide did not want us to walk at a pace where we were breathing heavy or our hearts were beating fast. Slowly acclimating to the increased elevation was the goal, which provided greater assurance of reaching the summit. Our pace I have likened to a bride walking down the aisle at her wedding. No faster than that. On this first day of climbing, we left Machame gate, elevation about 5,000 feet, hiked through a rain forest (no rain today), ate lunch along the route and camped at a place called Machame Camp, elevation about 10,000 feet. This was the second most popular route, and our camp site that evening reminded me of a Boy Scout campground during a jamboree when several troops were gathered: a big crowded place with lots of tents and lots of people. I do not know how many miles we covered when we gained those 5,000 feet of elevation, but it was a 6 hour day of climbing and I was ready for a hot meal and good night's rest. I enjoyed the food our cook prepared during my time on the mountain.
The gear for our climb was then weighed and our guide was told by the authorities how many porters would be needed for our group. A porter is supposed to carry no more than 35 to 40 pounds, so total weight of the food and gear determines the total number of porters for each group. Our guide then hired the additional porters needed for this trip from the many young men waiting around and hoping to be hired. For the climbing group of Mark and I, we had 6 porters, one cook plus the guide and assistant guide. The loads were distributed and, while this was going on, Chris, the assistant guide, began leading Mark and I up the mountain. "Pole, pole, pole" (pronounced pole-lay) is Swahili for "slowly, slowly, slowly." We heard it early and often on the trip. The idea is that our guide did not want us to walk at a pace where we were breathing heavy or our hearts were beating fast. Slowly acclimating to the increased elevation was the goal, which provided greater assurance of reaching the summit. Our pace I have likened to a bride walking down the aisle at her wedding. No faster than that. On this first day of climbing, we left Machame gate, elevation about 5,000 feet, hiked through a rain forest (no rain today), ate lunch along the route and camped at a place called Machame Camp, elevation about 10,000 feet. This was the second most popular route, and our camp site that evening reminded me of a Boy Scout campground during a jamboree when several troops were gathered: a big crowded place with lots of tents and lots of people. I do not know how many miles we covered when we gained those 5,000 feet of elevation, but it was a 6 hour day of climbing and I was ready for a hot meal and good night's rest. I enjoyed the food our cook prepared during my time on the mountain.
Climbing day 2
Mark with video camera on the trail, day 2
Today's goal was to get from Machame Camp at 10,000 feet to a place called Shira Camp, which was at 12,600 feet elevation. As we moved up the mountain, it became steeper and I fell once today. Clumsy it was, and on a ridge too, so I rolled a ways down before coming to an embarrassed stop in the middle of a large but very polite group from Ireland. We had our only taste of bad weather today, but it wasn't much. In the course of less than an hour in the afternoon, it rained, then turned to sleet, then snow. It stopped as quickly as it began. If fact, it was all so quick and light that I did not stop to open my backpack and put on the rain gear I brought.
A note about our porters. They are strong climbers. Mark and I had breakfast in our tent, then we left with our assistant guide Chris. The guide and porters stayed behind to close up the camp and clean up the site. Somewhere along the trail, they caught up then passed us, so that when we reached the evening camp site, out tent was set up, our bags were in it, the sleeping bags and pads were rolled out (ready to be tested if you're tired) and a snack before dinner was ready. This experience was true each day, and at increasingly difficult elevations. Our guide, Herment, I called the energizer bunny. He started last, caught up with us, then would move ahead to make sure the camp site was set up (leaving at least one experienced person to watch us while he was away), then come back to check on and hike with us. Amazing, I marveled.
A note about our porters. They are strong climbers. Mark and I had breakfast in our tent, then we left with our assistant guide Chris. The guide and porters stayed behind to close up the camp and clean up the site. Somewhere along the trail, they caught up then passed us, so that when we reached the evening camp site, out tent was set up, our bags were in it, the sleeping bags and pads were rolled out (ready to be tested if you're tired) and a snack before dinner was ready. This experience was true each day, and at increasingly difficult elevations. Our guide, Herment, I called the energizer bunny. He started last, caught up with us, then would move ahead to make sure the camp site was set up (leaving at least one experienced person to watch us while he was away), then come back to check on and hike with us. Amazing, I marveled.
Climbing day 3
Lava Tower camp site, end of day 3
Today was the shortest day of climbing, but I did not know that when we began. I was told it would be another 5 or 6 hours of climbing today, gaining less than 3,000 feet of elevation, although we reached the camp site by lunch. But this was a big downer day for me.
Early on day 3, shortly after midnight, Mark woke up with all of the common symptoms of mountain sickness: severe headache, upset stomach, overly sensitive skin. We brought pills along to deal with it, obtained by prescription in Indianapolis before leaving, and Herment said he should take one and see how he feels in the morning. In the morning, Mark was not better. Another pill and waiting to measure its effects did not help, so Herment decided that Mark had to head down the mountain, which he and Chris did. This was a very disappointing moment for me personally: I was on this trip to be with Mark and was not especially interested in climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro. Mark remembered our agreement before leaving Indianapolis, so he said to Herment "you make sure he (pointing to me) gets to the summit." I could not argue with Mark remembering our agreement, but did say to myself, "Hey Mark, why don't you ask me how I feel about this before giving orders to Herment, especially orders that affect me?"
A note about mountain sickness: everyone gets it sooner or later. Herment has climbed Mt. Kilimanjaro over 20 times as a porter, assistant guide and guide. He became sick and had to go down on a couple of occasions. Chris our assistant guide has also experienced trips where he had to cut them short because of the onset of mountain sickness. Anyone from a place like Indianapolis, with an elevation of 800 feet, who reaches the summit of Mt. Kilimanjaro is lucky. It takes preparation, being in good health and decent physical condition, but when all of that is said and done, there is still an element of old fashioned, unpredictable luck required if you are to reach the summit. I was lucky on this trip. Mark was not. By the afternoon of day 3, Herment told me that Mark was back at the hotel where we began our journey and was feeling fine. Herment had a satellite phone and used it when he needed to. Since the battery could not be recharged on the mountain, calls were precious.
Early on day 3, shortly after midnight, Mark woke up with all of the common symptoms of mountain sickness: severe headache, upset stomach, overly sensitive skin. We brought pills along to deal with it, obtained by prescription in Indianapolis before leaving, and Herment said he should take one and see how he feels in the morning. In the morning, Mark was not better. Another pill and waiting to measure its effects did not help, so Herment decided that Mark had to head down the mountain, which he and Chris did. This was a very disappointing moment for me personally: I was on this trip to be with Mark and was not especially interested in climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro. Mark remembered our agreement before leaving Indianapolis, so he said to Herment "you make sure he (pointing to me) gets to the summit." I could not argue with Mark remembering our agreement, but did say to myself, "Hey Mark, why don't you ask me how I feel about this before giving orders to Herment, especially orders that affect me?"
A note about mountain sickness: everyone gets it sooner or later. Herment has climbed Mt. Kilimanjaro over 20 times as a porter, assistant guide and guide. He became sick and had to go down on a couple of occasions. Chris our assistant guide has also experienced trips where he had to cut them short because of the onset of mountain sickness. Anyone from a place like Indianapolis, with an elevation of 800 feet, who reaches the summit of Mt. Kilimanjaro is lucky. It takes preparation, being in good health and decent physical condition, but when all of that is said and done, there is still an element of old fashioned, unpredictable luck required if you are to reach the summit. I was lucky on this trip. Mark was not. By the afternoon of day 3, Herment told me that Mark was back at the hotel where we began our journey and was feeling fine. Herment had a satellite phone and used it when he needed to. Since the battery could not be recharged on the mountain, calls were precious.
Climbing day 4
Day 4 of climbing was to be a very short day, with a very small elevation gain of less than 1,000 feet, from the Lava Tower to a place called Arrow Glacier. Evening 3 was spent at more than 15,000 feet and I woke up during the night with the hallucinations that we were told to expect: I awoke certain that the difficulty I had in breathing was going to lead to my death on the mountain, maybe before sunrise. After a short panic, logic took over and I told myself this was expected, forget it and think about something else. I did and did not have any more hallucinations or bad dreams on the mountain. I did, however, have more difficult breathing experiences. Those problems can be described like this: in Indianapolis, when I want to take a deep breath, it's just one long inhale and it's over. At 15,000 feet elevation, I had to suck in air three or four times to fill my lungs, and this increased as the elevation increased. At times, I felt like I could not get enough air in my lungs.
Our climbing was difficult today. We were above the tree line, and well past the line where any vegetation grows. The air pressure was dropping and that made breathing labored for someone who spends most of his life at an elevation of 800 feet. Plus, the mountain was getting even steeper, which caused me to need to stop and catch my breath more often. Herment was carefully watching me, and when he moved back to the old camp site or ahead to check on the porters and new camp site preparations, he always had one of the more experienced porters remain with me.
Today, our little group left the Machame route (the second most popular route to the summit) and turned onto the Western Breach route (which may be the least traveled route to the summit). After getting on the Western Breach route, I saw almost no one else other than our porters and Herment.
By the end of day 4, I had spent two days basically alone on a mountain that I did not really want to climb. Oh sure, there was a nice English speaking guide and a group of Swahili speaking porters and cook who seemed to be nice, but during the day, it was just me and the mountain I did not care about. At breakfast, lunch, dinner and each night in my tent, I was by myself and in a place where it was hard to breathe. Our plan for this trip had us reaching the crater at the end of day 5, spending that night in the crater of Mt.Kilimanjaro, climbing to the highest point on the crater rim on the morning of day 6, then taking the rest of day 6 and most of day 7 to descend. Normal is a two, or in some cases a three, day descent. My new goal was to get off of the mountain as quickly as I could. So, at the end of day 4, I asked Herment, "can you get down in one day?" He said "yes." Then I asked "can the porter's get down in one day?" Again, he said "yes" without hesitation. So I told him "then we are going down in one day!" He looked at me like I was crazy (and I was, but one day down became the new plan). My thinking on a one day down trip was full of hard hitting logic: we would be going downhill, so the air pressure would be rising and breathing would get easier as the day progressed, the opposite of what I had experienced going up. I did not know the distance, but estimated it would be 15 to 20 miles of walking, and almost all downhill. I could do that distance in a day, I was certain. On a bike, it would be easy to finish that distance before the morning coffee break. My training for this climb included walking at least 4 miles each day in about an hour, some days longer distances and times. If I had all day to cover 15 or 20 miles, that should be easy, I told myself. So, logic met desire and we had a new plan.
Our climbing was difficult today. We were above the tree line, and well past the line where any vegetation grows. The air pressure was dropping and that made breathing labored for someone who spends most of his life at an elevation of 800 feet. Plus, the mountain was getting even steeper, which caused me to need to stop and catch my breath more often. Herment was carefully watching me, and when he moved back to the old camp site or ahead to check on the porters and new camp site preparations, he always had one of the more experienced porters remain with me.
Today, our little group left the Machame route (the second most popular route to the summit) and turned onto the Western Breach route (which may be the least traveled route to the summit). After getting on the Western Breach route, I saw almost no one else other than our porters and Herment.
By the end of day 4, I had spent two days basically alone on a mountain that I did not really want to climb. Oh sure, there was a nice English speaking guide and a group of Swahili speaking porters and cook who seemed to be nice, but during the day, it was just me and the mountain I did not care about. At breakfast, lunch, dinner and each night in my tent, I was by myself and in a place where it was hard to breathe. Our plan for this trip had us reaching the crater at the end of day 5, spending that night in the crater of Mt.Kilimanjaro, climbing to the highest point on the crater rim on the morning of day 6, then taking the rest of day 6 and most of day 7 to descend. Normal is a two, or in some cases a three, day descent. My new goal was to get off of the mountain as quickly as I could. So, at the end of day 4, I asked Herment, "can you get down in one day?" He said "yes." Then I asked "can the porter's get down in one day?" Again, he said "yes" without hesitation. So I told him "then we are going down in one day!" He looked at me like I was crazy (and I was, but one day down became the new plan). My thinking on a one day down trip was full of hard hitting logic: we would be going downhill, so the air pressure would be rising and breathing would get easier as the day progressed, the opposite of what I had experienced going up. I did not know the distance, but estimated it would be 15 to 20 miles of walking, and almost all downhill. I could do that distance in a day, I was certain. On a bike, it would be easy to finish that distance before the morning coffee break. My training for this climb included walking at least 4 miles each day in about an hour, some days longer distances and times. If I had all day to cover 15 or 20 miles, that should be easy, I told myself. So, logic met desire and we had a new plan.
Climbing day 5
Herment, the cook and porters
This was one tough day. Tough, tough, tough! Mt. Kilimanjaro is the highest peak on the African continent, and for mountain climbers who want to climb the highest peak on each of the 7 continents, it is the only one of those 7 that you can climb without any technical skills or equipment. No crampons for crossing ice fields needed. No axes. Nothing but a good pair of hiking boots, good health and a desire to reach the summit. That was true on my first 4 days of climbing and remained true today, but there was a stretch where it was very steep climbing, then hands and feet scrambling over rock faces on the Western Breach route that Mark selected because he wanted to challenge himself. Plus we gained almost 3,000 feet of elevation before reaching the crater at day's end and breathing became even more difficult. It took me over 7 hours of climbing today, with several rest stops along the way.
On this day alone, I was happy to see the tent set up with the sleeping bag rolled out because I put it to immediate use when I got to our camp site on the crater. After a short rest, I walked around in the crater, but reaching the top of a small hill not more than a hundred yards away wore me out. Walking on flat ground at this 19,000 foot elevation was relatively easy. But at the slightest incline, I quickly became tired, had difficulty breathing and needed rest. There were other places that Herment wanted to show me inside the crater, but I simply did not have the lung power or energy, so it was early to bed. During the night, I listened to a man in a nearby tent talking on his satellite phone about some deal he was working on in London. It sounded incredibly trivial at this time and place, although it was important to him.
The temperature tonight was the coldest of any on the mountain, it dropped to 15 degrees Fahrenheit when I checked around midnight. The new sleeping bag I bought was doing its job, tonight and all other evenings on the mountain.
On this day alone, I was happy to see the tent set up with the sleeping bag rolled out because I put it to immediate use when I got to our camp site on the crater. After a short rest, I walked around in the crater, but reaching the top of a small hill not more than a hundred yards away wore me out. Walking on flat ground at this 19,000 foot elevation was relatively easy. But at the slightest incline, I quickly became tired, had difficulty breathing and needed rest. There were other places that Herment wanted to show me inside the crater, but I simply did not have the lung power or energy, so it was early to bed. During the night, I listened to a man in a nearby tent talking on his satellite phone about some deal he was working on in London. It sounded incredibly trivial at this time and place, although it was important to him.
The temperature tonight was the coldest of any on the mountain, it dropped to 15 degrees Fahrenheit when I checked around midnight. The new sleeping bag I bought was doing its job, tonight and all other evenings on the mountain.
Descending day 6
one wheel ambulance, for emergencies
We began this day early, breakfast before sunrise, then Herment and I climbed to the highest point on the ridge that surrounds the crater at the top of Mt. Kilimanjaro. [The porters took a less dangerous route to the crater and a less strenuous route down today.] We reached that highest point early, took the usual photo, then began the trek down. The mountain is very steep near the summit. On the way up, I climbed over a rock face to reach the crater. But the route down was different: it was covered with volcanic ash, which makes it very soft. I could not walk downhill normally in that soft ash. Instead, I placed each foot sideways and let it slide until it stopped, then put the other foot down and slid along. At first, I thought this was going to be an easy and fun way to slide down part of the mountain, but after a few minutes of this sliding downhill, I grew very weary of this new way of walking and yearned for the normal.
Before we started on the long and difficult day, I had "markers" in mind to measure progress on the downhill trip: when would we hit the tree line, when would we reach the camp site where the original plan had us spending the night, when would we reach the rain forest. If I could get to that camp site around lunch time, then I should be in good shape to finish this downhill hike in one day. As the day wore on, I knew that I was falling behind schedule, but exhaustion, swollen feet and very sore feet kept me from stepping up the pace. Thankfully, I did not have any problems with my ankles, knees or hips, as some climbers have experienced on long downhill treks. We did not reach the original camp site until mid afternoon. I could still imagine getting finished before the day was over, but it would be harder than I convinced myself a few days earlier. By the time we were well into the rain forest area, I hoped we were getting close, but Herment did not give me any encouraging signs or words, he just kept going and I followed. We came to a part of the trail which had been smoothed out, and I told myself that it must be very near the start of the trail and we were almost done. Wrong. The afternoon sun was getting lower, shadows were getting longer and I worried that I might not make it before dark. Herment was with me, but I still did not want to be trekking down that mountain after dark. There were no lights and any root, rock or other obstruction on the trail would be a real hazard to falling. My feet had swollen inside my boots, toes banging against the boots caused bleeding on both big toes (I lost the toe nails on both big toes after the climb) and each step hurt more than the last one. When it seemed like I could not continue any further, we came to a wide spot in the trail and, surprise!!!, there was the vehicle that brought Mark and I to the mountain. Standing next to it was Mark and our friendly driver to greet me. Herment had sent one of the porters ahead to make a call and bring in the "cavalry." What a happy feeling that was, knowing that I did not have to walk any more.
I slowly got in the vehicle and sat. My thigh muscles immediately froze up, and I really could not move. When others needed to get in the vehicle, they had to climb over me. How rude, how tired, how happy. We bounced down that uneven, rut filled road/trail for a while and reached the ranger station. I happily signed out, and Mark and I were returned to our hotel, where Mark had a bottle of champagne to share with the successful group. I tipped our guides, cook and porters generously, gave a good set of gloves to a porter without gloves who helped me through the rock slide area (strong hands, but cold hands, I told him). I then took the longest and hottest shower of my life. After life returned, I then met Mark for dinner in the hotel dining room. Mark and I were ready for the next adventure in Africa, one that did not require any heights, so breathing would be/should be easy from now on.
Before we started on the long and difficult day, I had "markers" in mind to measure progress on the downhill trip: when would we hit the tree line, when would we reach the camp site where the original plan had us spending the night, when would we reach the rain forest. If I could get to that camp site around lunch time, then I should be in good shape to finish this downhill hike in one day. As the day wore on, I knew that I was falling behind schedule, but exhaustion, swollen feet and very sore feet kept me from stepping up the pace. Thankfully, I did not have any problems with my ankles, knees or hips, as some climbers have experienced on long downhill treks. We did not reach the original camp site until mid afternoon. I could still imagine getting finished before the day was over, but it would be harder than I convinced myself a few days earlier. By the time we were well into the rain forest area, I hoped we were getting close, but Herment did not give me any encouraging signs or words, he just kept going and I followed. We came to a part of the trail which had been smoothed out, and I told myself that it must be very near the start of the trail and we were almost done. Wrong. The afternoon sun was getting lower, shadows were getting longer and I worried that I might not make it before dark. Herment was with me, but I still did not want to be trekking down that mountain after dark. There were no lights and any root, rock or other obstruction on the trail would be a real hazard to falling. My feet had swollen inside my boots, toes banging against the boots caused bleeding on both big toes (I lost the toe nails on both big toes after the climb) and each step hurt more than the last one. When it seemed like I could not continue any further, we came to a wide spot in the trail and, surprise!!!, there was the vehicle that brought Mark and I to the mountain. Standing next to it was Mark and our friendly driver to greet me. Herment had sent one of the porters ahead to make a call and bring in the "cavalry." What a happy feeling that was, knowing that I did not have to walk any more.
I slowly got in the vehicle and sat. My thigh muscles immediately froze up, and I really could not move. When others needed to get in the vehicle, they had to climb over me. How rude, how tired, how happy. We bounced down that uneven, rut filled road/trail for a while and reached the ranger station. I happily signed out, and Mark and I were returned to our hotel, where Mark had a bottle of champagne to share with the successful group. I tipped our guides, cook and porters generously, gave a good set of gloves to a porter without gloves who helped me through the rock slide area (strong hands, but cold hands, I told him). I then took the longest and hottest shower of my life. After life returned, I then met Mark for dinner in the hotel dining room. Mark and I were ready for the next adventure in Africa, one that did not require any heights, so breathing would be/should be easy from now on.