Kilimanjaro: Hakuna Matata My Ass!!

So, “Hakuna Matata” really does translate to “no worries” from Swahili. Unfortunately, the loveable faces of Timon and Pumba were far from our minds as our guides repeatedly used this phrase in an attempt to be positive. The icicles, hanging from my red moustache, must have kept my true feelings inside me and I can guarantee that Lion and King would not have been my choice of 4 letter words as we approached 5800 meters above sea level.

Day 1: We headed out from a surprisingly busy park headquarters with pep in our step and two positive young Danish lads at our sides. All of us were taken aback by the beauty of the rainforest that we climbed through on our first day into a new adventure. About a half hour into our trek, the first drops of rain fell, but our spirits could not be dampened. 3 hours of downpour later and a ten degree temperature drop left our flame all but out. As we stood at the ranger’s station to sign into our first campground, we couldn’t help but wonder if this was an omen or only a bump in the road. With water shooting from our boots we moved to unpack our things and found that the dampness had spared nothing and the cool of the night began to set in. No less than 4 cups of tea, a bowl of soup and the hopes for tomorrow warmed us enough to let us sleep.

Day 2: Day 2 can again be summarized with 1 word, “RAIN”. We moved to a camp at 3800m and found a comfortable bed of rocks to snuggle in with. Damp and cold, we huddled in our tent and tried to keep our stuff as dry as possible. The two California Raisins I used to call feet never did seem to thaw, but the soup tonight tasted twice as good as it did yesterday. The rain finally broke just in time for a beautiful sunset. I took full advantage and snapped away.

Day 3: We awoke before sunrise and excitement built as we watched the clouds disperse and the sun emerge. We scurried around spreading out gear on every rock and bush available. An hour of solid sunshine and a bowl of porridge had things looking up for our foursome and all the other lowly hikers that continued on the trail. We were able to dry our sleeping bags, clothes and mats but continued to battle our rain soaked boots. As we packed up and headed out we were a smiling bunch. Today we would climb to 4600m and descend back down to another camp at 3900m in an attempt to acclimatize to the altitude. Don’t tell our Danish friends that this was the easy part, as severe headaches and nausea had already begun for both of them. So far, we had felt a little bit of headache but nothing to write home (or blog) about. As the sun faded behind the clouds we continued upwards and the temperature continued to drop. As we approached freezing temperatures we were pleased to not be getting rained on. However, we were now covered in light snow, as it was too cold for rain. Whoever answered our prayers for the rain to stop sure does have a sick sense of humor.

Day 4: Sunshine greeted us as we exited our tent, as did a sheet of ice that fell from our fly as we unzipped. A frozen layer had blanketed the campsite in the night while New Year’s Eve fireworks were set off by the porters and guides. We had celebrated New Years from the relative warmth of our sleeping bags, but we are sure that the fireworks were beautiful. From here we would head to base camp at 4600m of elevation after breakfast and a little more time to dry our things in the sun. At this point, quite a few people were feeling ill from the elevation (to varying degrees) but we remained relatively unaffected.

Seven hours of hiking later we arrived at the base camp and were greeted by strong wind and rocky unsheltered campsites. The sun and temperature sank simultaneously, as the wind continued to pick up steam. Dinner was spent yelling across the tent, as the wind drowned us out so rather than fight it we spent the time taking in as much food as possible. We knew the next 24 hours or so were not going to be all that pleasant. We curled up in our tent around 8:30pm as our assault on the summit would begin around midnight. The strength of the wind violently shook our tent to the point where we were unable to sleep and the temperature was now well below zero. We thought these were pretty lousy circumstances until we heard a loud snap and our tent came crumbling down on top of us. With the pole snapped in half we decided the best course of action was to ride it out, as it was too windy to do much else. When our guide came to wake us 2 hours later we were more than ready to get out and get moving.

Day 5: Day 5 began at 12:30am with the layering of clothes and a cup of tea. The wind continued, but we assumed that 5 layers plus winter jackets, two pairs of pants, toques, mitts and (now dry) boots would be plenty to keep us warm. We have never been more wrong in our life. The wind strength had grown to the point where a miss step meant that you were being blown sideways or backwards and 25 below zero at the top left us both with runny (eventually frozen) noses and unresponsive fingers. We arrived at the peak after 6 hours of torture, a few discussions of when to turn back and more than a few choice words for mother nature. Our camera lasted long enough for about 6 pictures before it was frozen, so our 4 minutes at the top was plenty long enough to have a look around and start our stumble down. We had spent so much energy fighting to get to the top that the trip down was just as bad. Luckily, as the sun came out and we descended, the temperatures went up enough to stop shaking and make sure we still had thumbs. We made it back to base camp for an hour of sleep and some brunch before we continued descending to 3100 m which took us about 4 more hours. I have to say that once the sun came out the scenery was beautiful.

Day 6: On Jan. 3 we had two things to celebrate, leaving the mountain and the birthday of Mavis. While I truly cherish Mavis, I think we all know what we were celebrating. A three hour hike took us to the gate where we received our certificates for summiting Kilimanjaro. Fittingly, they were filled out to “Mr. Mavis Vellington” and “Ms. Michael Lird.” It is fair to say that we will never forget our climb, no matter how hard we try!!