(If you missed it – here is a link to my look back on Kilimanjaro Day 2)

Day 3 – Morning Paradise

It feels as though it’s been a long time coming but looking back to just 3 months ago, to the day I woke to the most amazing sunrise above the clouds, I can easily recall the surreal scene. It was as if I had been transported to a fantasy world high above the earth, it’s peak surrounded by a dense puff of cloud and it’s inhabitants squinting against the fiery ball of sun rising through the clouds, basking in the warmth it brought.

 This image and other spectacular moments are emblazoned on my memory but the complete compilation of day to day activity that brought myself and our group to these fantastic places is somewhat jumbled, the order misaligned in my mind. On reflection, the single days seem to run in to one another making it almost impossible for me to accurately state which event took place on what day. I struggle to recall the order of days even as I look through my photos, thankful that they have been recorded in some semblance of time and place in a week filled with so many amazing experiences. A word to the well intentioned, procrastinating, journal writers out there (me)… “Take notes!” I am thankful for my blogging partner’s discipline with jotting down daily events, experiences, and itineraries, but even as I read her recollections,  knowing they are accurate – I still have my doubts, wondering if she has it right. I have to wonder if maybe it’s because only 2% dehydration affects one’s attention, memory, and cognitive skills or if perhaps my brain cells were cannibalizing themselves in an effort to ward off starvation… With the incredible food we were being provided I can’t imagine it was the latter so at this point in time, even knowing that memory is a tricky part of the brain affected by emotion, past experience, and interpretation, I’m going with the dehydration option.

 On the morning of day 3 at Kikilewa Camp while our dining table was set in the open air and our bags and tents were packed and portered out, we lingered in the sunshine (and by lingering  I mean bandaging my battered heels) and set out late – close to 8:30am! Our trek was reported to be only 3-4 hours today with an acclimatization hike after our arrival at Mawenzi Tarn Camp – I know, sounds like great news! After an hour or so of upward and upward I wasn’t as excited.  My excitement waned further as another hour took us and my Darth Vader-like respirations upward yet. By the final hour I was wondering what kind of Tom-foolery I had signed up for. I felt deceived by the morning feast and the easy gathering around a heavenly table for 7 only hours before. What had begun as a lighthearted fellowship enveloped in sunshine and grace had turned into an ongoing slog of one foot over the other in the shadow of Mawenzi peak, surrounded by nothing but the grey rocks and dirt of Kilimanjaro.

 Cresting the ridge to Mawenzi Camp was a relief and even the slimy green puddle, the pale green of our tents, and the welcome of our home camp appeared to be a kind of oasis after our colourless morning.

 It took only moments before my grey thoughts were lifted. Popcorn, peanuts, and a lovely cup of tea have a way of quickly raising the spirits! A few card games in the dining tent, an amazing lunch, and we were set for a short acclimatization hike. The purpose of these wee treks was to climb temporarily to a higher altitude ensuring that the climb high – sleep low rule was followed so that our bodies had every opportunity available to adjust the altitude and maximize our chances of reaching the summit. The 20 minute rest at the height of the hike was an opportunity for the guides to lay out the plan for the next day and quietly assess each one of us and our physical, mental, and emotional state almost midway through this adventure. The knowledge and intuition of our guides never ceased to amaze me and I noted their keen sense of our team throughout our trek.

During one of our many water breaks, Felix #1 asked me how I was doing. I replied that I was doing well – no headaches, nausea, or shortness of breath (except on the uphill!!!). After confirming again that I was okay, he then questioned why, whenever he looked back, that I walked with my head down and was so quiet. “What are you thinking?” Initially I was shocked that I hadn’t noticed him looking back at us while he was in the lead –   I had been behind him directly or at least 2nd in line for the last couple of days! Secondly, for him to note my style of gait, and my quiet character surprised me.  For those who know me, they can imagine my discomfort at the beginning of this trek, despite being with one of my best friends, being smack dab in the middle of a group of 7 who I had met only a couple of times before – I mean, I’m basically a hermit! My response was that I was in fact doing okay. I was quiet because in the day to day busyness of life there isn’t much time for quiet contemplation and that I was only thinking one thing while on the uphill, “One more step, one more step.” He laughed at this and told me the next time he asks how I’m doing, if I feel as good as I do today,  that I should reply, “Ajabu,” which means fantastic. I believe that each one of us had at least one encounter like this with at least one of the guides as they observed and endeavored to learn more about each one of us, our physical state, and our well-being  whenever the opportunity came about.

 The day 3 acclimatization hike had served it’s purpose and after we settled in for an amazing supper I was satiated and sleepy. We all went our separate ways, snuggled into our tents for the night, and while I can’t speak for anyone else, the supposed theory of the difficulty of sleeping at altitude had thus far been disproven and remained merely a myth. I slept like a rock! I was looking forward to a day crossing “The Saddle,” which I had read was dry and hot, where the sun scorched and burned anyone who dared not cover their head. Oh yes, after the chilly, grey afternoon/evening of the third day, I was already dreaming of the desert tundra of day 4 in all of it’s warmth and glory!

Day 4 – A Change of Plan

During our acclimatization hike on Day 3, the guides suggested an alternate route that would shave several kilometres off of our trek and allow our group a greater chance of successfully reaching the summit. As it turns out, we voted unanimously in favour of the alternate route albeit for each one of us, the reason was different. We would now attempt to summit on day five, leaving in the daylight rather than making an overnight attempt. This new route would also involve us skipping the original stop at Third Caves Camp and making our way directly to School Huts Camp (4800m) one day early. I was greatly in favour of this part of the plan because it meant that we could stay in the same camp for two consecutive days and I wouldn’t have to tidy or pack anything before our 5am attempt at the summit!

 Breakfast was early and by 7am we were already into the second course.  This morning’s porridge was something new however, it was made from millet. Hmmm… not sure if I was a big fan of this change because of the taste or because at some point on day 3 my stomach had started to give me a bit of trouble. No nausea, no diarrhea, nor any acclimatization flatulence to speak of (my tent-mate was probably grateful for that!), just dull, continuous, epigastric pain that could not be relieved. Weird, but I was not going to be deterred from what I knew was going to be a fantastic day. With heels bandaged and taped, boots strategically tied, and my sunscreen at the ready, we set out for The Saddle. Up, up, and up we went, each time reaching a small summit then being rewarded with a small downhill section of trail. Finally, when we reached the peak and gazed over the edge, we could not only see the trail we would take across the saddle, but the path beyond leading onto the mountain, it’s solitary form rising up in the distance. Kilimanjaro – our final destination.

 There wasn’t a cloud in the sky as we descended into The Saddle. The azure blue overhead extended across the horizon and in every direction as far as we could see. The warmth of the sun was in direct opposition to the coolness of the high altitude breeze in the way that you could feel the shining rays on your face but when you touched your skin it was cold. Oh, there is something amazing about the sunshine and how it can transform the way you feel. Well, the way I feel anyway. I felt as if I could walk all day with our easy pace along a slow and barely perceptible incline… Now this was the hike I had dreamed about and the day that I most fondly look back on. The pace increased slightly as we excitedly began our cross country trek. Nothing but open space in front of us, our goal in sight every step of the way. After an hour I think our pace had slowed… It felt as though we had not made any gain at all. I think each one of us was marking rocks or breaks in the trail to ensure we were actually moving forward as the distance did not seem to close in any measurable way at all. I found that it was only when I looked back from where we had come that I realized the distance we had covered, the progress we had made. Life is a bit like that too, I think. Sometimes we have to look back to see how far we have come. So looking forward, there seemed no end but I didn’t care at all – the blue of the sky, the brightness of the sun, the freedom in my spirit, and the beauty of this place were like something one reads about only in books.

  
The easy pace of this day kept my abdominal pain at bay but the ache returned on the evening acclimatization hike and had me wondering if my breathing pattern was to blame. In medicine, when you are bagging a patient you don’t want to fill their tummy with air by pushing too much volume too fast. I thought maybe I was gulping air while trying to take deeper breaths in an attempt to get more oxygen at this altitude. I wasn’t able to eat anything really but it was due to pain more than anything else. Again, I was not nauseated, had no vomiting or diarrhea, did not have a headache, and thankfully, was not experiencing the dreaded acclimatization flatulence. I went to the tent earlier that afternoon for a rest but no luck. Thankfully, the Rolaids that Brande had given me had provided momentary relief.  My nursing mind was trying to come up with answers but nothing seemed to fit.

The night chill came early and it was freezing in the dining tent. I was cold and uncomfortable, and not really myself so I was off to bed soon after our briefing. It was decided we would wake up at 4am, leave at 5am, and summit around mid-day. I tried to be excited as I took out all of the clothes I would need and put them in the inner part of our tent… It was freezing up here and I knew I wouldn’t want to put on cold clothes at 4am!! It had started to rain/snow and I wasn’t looking forward to the morning but imagine my surprise when I unzipped the tent to make  my way to the toilet and a sheet of ice shattered and slid off the roof! Nightmare! Not only did the noise wake up Matty, I thought I would be slip-sliding all the way to the summit! By the time we woke up for real, there was only a light dusting of snow on the ground and thankfully, no evidence of the aforementioned ice storm. It was time to start day 5 – Kilimanjaro Summit day.

(If you missed it – here is a link to my look back on Kilimanjaro Day 1)

The daylight began to slowly creep into our tent and as the beep, beep, beep of my casio digital broke into the crisp morning air on Day 2, I thought to my self, “Is it already 6AM?!” I had slept like a big dog, waking several times to the sound of tent zippers and footsteps to the ever popular toilet tent but I, myself, had been up and out of my own tent just once to visit the same. In my haste to reach the lavatory over tent ropes and rocks in time to wiggle and wrestle the zipper open (and closed after I crossed the threshold) I neglected to note the bright night sky, a follow-up from the first glimpse of the thousands of stars that we’d had the night before. Absolutely amazing! I stood outside for about 10 minutes looking up toward the heavens and basking in the wonder of Creation. Then suddenly, through the silence broke the sound of another zipper, which I must say was far less intrusive than the noise pollution of the acclimatization flatulence coming from other tents in the camp! Blinding one another with our headlamps, we exchanged a quick nod and went our separate ways. Me to my sleeping bag plus 15 degree liner, and he to the toilet tent where I could hear him wrestling agressively with the zipper…

To my surprise, I didn’t even feel cold. For me, this is a shocker and the next 2 hours before waking again were spent in toasty bliss! Breakfast wasn’t until 7am and warm water was brought to our tents for washing close to 6:30. Poor Matty! I set my alarm 30 minutes earlier so I could bandage my blistered and broken heels. Nothing like being woken by someone else’s alarm and then being kept awake by the crinkle of dressing wrappers and the sharp but beautiful sound of duct tape. My first concoction was a  conglomeration of a padded, ultra adhesive dressing generally used for pressure ulcers covered with duct tape so my boot would slide easily if my heels started to lift. At this point, the morning of day 2, the back of my feet were reddened and bruised with only dime sized blisters. I had pierced them before bed but kept the skin intact as much as possible (as a nurse my advice is to never pop a blister so do as I say, not as I do) and applied iodine to dry them out and kill any bacteria creeping around the open area (iodine can kill healthy tissue so do not do this either!). I covered them lightly with a gauze pad and paper tape overnight to let them breathe. By the morning light of my headlamp, I thought they looked pretty good!

After an amazing feast of porridge, eggs, toast and fruit we were ready to hit the trail. We packed our dry sacks and duffle bags with the majority of our gear including sleeping bags for our porters to take to the next camp and our day packs with the only the absolute necessities we would need throughout the day. The porters were amazing carrying our huge packs, tents, and even our toilets at breakneck speed surpassing each one of us as if the gear weighed nothing at all! They busted their humps all day waking earlier than we did and while we were ready for bed by 7 or 8PM, our porters were visiting and laughing well after dark.

The necessities for most of us included a 3 litre water bladder, a 1 litre portable water bottle, wet wipes, high protein snacks and hard candies, a hat and sunscreen to shield us from the strength of the sun, a fleece for small breaks so we didn’t get cold, and rain gear for top and bottom as we were instructed to be prepared for a 99.9% chance of rain each and every day. I thought I was doing quite well with my new Osprey pack but head guide Leo thought it looked too full and heavy to be carried for the day. As we all gathered together for the morning brief, Leo looked at me and asked, “What’s in your bag?” I told him the usual and then he proceeded to shake his head as I emptied the bag onto the ground. I had all of the above plus a couple of extras… An extra thermal mid weight fleece, an extra long sleeved merino wool zip base layer, a short sleeved t-shirt, extra bottom layer, a large bag of M&Ms, extra dressings for my feet in case the existing ones came off, small bottles of Tylenol and ibuprofen for feet pain, an extra camera card and portable charger for my camera, iPhone in case of emergency, iPod and head phones for music, a few other miscellaneous items, a pair of trainers in case my boots killed my feet more than I expected, and of course my trusty walking poles strapped tightly in. Obviously the word, “necessities” means different things to different people…

Satisfied that my pack was bulk rather than weight, off we went into the sunny hills of Kilimanjaro. Up, up, up for most of the morning and then after our delicious hot lunch, seated at our dining table and a rest, we settled in to a nice pace for the gentle incline that still awaited us. With the exception of some rocky climbs and dips, the way was much easier than I anticipate – and much warmer!

During the trek not long after lunch clouds began forming around us and you could feel a chill in the air. We asked the all-knowing guide if we should stop and put on our rain gear. “Not yet” came the reply. So we continued on until instructed to stop to “Drink water” and “Put on your rain clothes.” I think we had had just begun to walk again when the rain started, then continued, then turned to sleet, small hail, then rain, and rain. I was again amazed by these guides, not only their awareness of the status of each one of us in the group, but by their knowledge of the mountain and the conditions surrounding us. It stopped before we reached camp but not before a good number of us discovered that their rain gear was not actually waterproof – or even water resistant! Note to future Kili trekkers… Test your gear BEFORE the mountain and understand that while rental gear is an excellent idea in theory, you cannot guarantee its quality. Some of our gear did not dry again until a week later back in the warm temperatures of Arusha. Zip-loc air tight plastic bags kept the other gear in our bags dry until then but the horrific waft released after seven days of dark and dank is one smell that can only be described as unforgettable.

Safely back at camp we were greeted with popcorn and tea (coffee, hot chocolate etc) warm water to wash and our dry clothes in our tents. After supper, some trivia, and a few laughs I was ready for bed. I had not been at all cold on the mountain, even while my face felt like it was being sliced by sleet and stung by hail, but the thought of curling up with my fleece underwear and heating pad in my fluffy sleeping bag with plus fifteen degree liner was like magic to me. I don’t think it was much past 8PM when I finished popping my blisters, swabbing with iodine, and dressing my feet. Ibuprofen taking effect. I readied my gear for the morning and hoping to get a head start on foot care, I set my alarm for 30 minutes before we were supposed to wake. That and the fact that I believe I was snoring before 8:30PM must have had my tent-mate wondering what he had gotten himself into. Poor Matty!

Up once in the night to the popular toilet tent, (I blame the Diamoxx diuretic effect) but otherwise I slept like a rock! The mountain air must be amazing! I don’t know how I slept so well. It might have been the 7 hour climb, or the deliciously content and full feeling I had after supper, or highly likely is the fact that I was warm all night… I know, it’s shocking! Being warm at night, in a tent, on Kilimanjaro, was the biggest surprise of the trip for me. At home I generally use flannel sheets, down duvet x 2, heating pad, and fleece pyjamas plus hoody. If warmth at night is positively correlated with walking 4-13 hours a day, sign me up! I’m ready for day 3…

Lana

(Here is a link to my look back on Kilimanjaro Day 3 and 4)