It all started a few months back when the dorm duty
schedule came out. The schedule laid out all the days for the whole year that
each individual staff member would be require to be on campus and available for
the students. It also includes all of the school breaks. The moment the
calendar came out discussion began over what to do for our fantastically long
October break. Ideas were tossed around about game parks (Masai Mara, Tsavo
East, Tsavo West, Amboseli), cities and even other countries (Tanzania,
Rwanda). But when an ascent of Mt. Kenya was proposed, I knew exactly what I
wanted to do: to climb the tallest mountain in Kenya and the second tallest
mountain in all of Africa.
Fast-forward a few
months. Amal has taken charge of the entire trip and has planned it down to the
finest detail: transport, accommodation, guides and porters, gear, food. You
name it, Amal had it covered. Seven people made up our hearty team. I’ll run
through a quick introduction for each in alphabetical order.
Amal: Hailing from the
UK, he organized the whole trip, is a math teacher at the academy, is an avid
and able rugby player, and an overall gregarious and energetic guy.
George: A good old Boston
boy from Southie, has been on the international school circuit for many a year
and has been lived everywhere from Basel to Cairo to Mombasa, our oldest member
and arguably most steady member.
Jacob: Also hailing from
the UK, Jacob graduated from St. Andrews in Scotland. He is a maestro on the
violin and a remarkably thoughtful and insightful person. Even after a leg
injury on the way down, Jacob trucked without complaint.
Kristine: Mt. Kenya was
the first mountain she has ever climbed and she did it with remarkable poise
and energy. Kristine is a year 2 teacher at AKA,M and is originally from the
Philippines. It was great having her constant smile on the trip.
Lindsey (in the middle): Lindsey is a
fellow Bowdoin grad, class of 2010, and arguably the most outgoing and friendly
person there is. She is always ready with an uplifting comment or a cheerful
song. We talk and reminisce about Bowdoin… a lot.
Nicole: An academy
veteran who calls Canada home. I work with Nicole on Student Representative
Council. In the two weeks before this trip, Nicole was battling Malaria and
some bacterial sickness. She overcame both and ground her way up the mountain.
Impressive stuff.
Chase: Well, you all know
me, the charming young gentleman from Nashville, Tennessee… right?
0 ft to 7,000 ft
We left Mombasa at 5:30
am on the morning of Friday, October 12th. We all piled into a
Safari Car driven by Salim, our reliable and experienced driver, and began the
long journey to the base of Mt. Kenya. Immediately after leaving the city we
were caught in a massive truck jam that left us swerving off the road and
riding the rapidly eroding shoulder in order to make any progress past the
log-jammed big rigs. It took almost two hours but we eventually hit the open
tarmac and our speed picked up considerably.
The Mombasa highway that
connects Nairobi to Mombasa is a beautiful road that makes its way though the
beautiful and diverse landscape of Kenya. It is not uncommon to see wild
animals from the road and on our journey there and back we saw giraffes, an
elephant, dik-diks, zebras, baboons and a wide range of birds. The road serves
also as the divide between Tsavo East and Tsavo West, two of the most
frequently visited national parks in the country. On the way up I glimpsed a
family of baboons hanging around an electrical pole, the young ones scampering
up the wires and sliding down while the older ones supervised.
The
ride itself was nerve-wracking. The Mombasa highway is only two lanes wide yet
serves as a major transport road for goods coming in and out of the country so
traffic is heavy. With the large number of trucks on the road, the going is
slow, but to speed progress up, Salim made frequent high speed passes. He would
edge slowly towards the center of the road to peek around the large truck
ahead, gauge the speed and distance of the oncoming vehicles and then gun the
engine and roar around the truck, ducking quickly back into the left lane right
as the oncoming traffic flashed their lights, honked and quickly whipped by. Although
I had the utmost confidence in Salim and his abilities, I found it too
terrifying to look out the front of the car during each increasingly bold pass
and buried my head in the bulging folder of crosswords I had brought for the
ride.
Halfway
though our journey we stopped at a Sikh Temple for lunch. The temple had been
established decades ago when the British colonial powers demanded the
construction of a railroad from Mombasa to Kampala. Because the Kenyan laborers
knew the landscape well and had the support of the local population, they were
able to easily flee from their servitude and return with relative ease to their
homes. To complete the line, the British had to import labor from their other
large colony, India. These new laborers had no support network were much more
suitable to the purposes of the colonialists. Many thousands of Indians died
during the construction of the rail. The temple was established to provide room
and board for the laborers to ease their suffering somewhat. In the main dining
room hangs a banner in memoriam to the many Indians who died in the
construction of the “Lunatic Line.”
The
Sikh Temple sits in the middle of a non-descript roadside town that, besides
the temple and a nearby mosque, is entirely unremarkable. We drove in, hopped
out and wandered over to the dining hall. In order to enter the temple or the
dining area, we needed to cover our heads so they had provided brightly colored
head coverings for visitors. The food itself is free. And delicious. It is all
vegetarian as the Sikh faith does not permit them to kill animals which means
they make a fantastic veggie meal. We wolfed down the food, thanked the kitchen
staff profusely, and dropped a hefty donation off at the front office to cover
the cost of the meal, we hoped. It really was an amazing place; we made note to
make a stop on our return journey.
After
about ten hours of driving we made it to Nairobi to pick up Mecongola, our
guide. Aside from his fantastic name, Mecongola is a big, outdoors guide with a
self-proclaimed ability to be able to befriend anyone. He helps out the Academy
frequently with outdoor excursions for the kids and he offered us a great deal
for this trip.
Mkongola: large and in charge
After snagging him, we headed farther north to the foothills of
Mt. Kenya. As we drove along, the sky flickered with flashes of heat lightning
that erratically lit up the mountain that lay before us. The clouds hovered in the
sky with billowing tops but undersides as flat and heavy and anvils. Aside from
a brief breakdown on a hill and a little fumbling in the dark in our search for
our lodging, we arrived without a hitch at Batian’s View, our home for the
night. Batian is the highest peak on Mt. Kenya and we had a beautiful view of
it in the morning so the camp’s name is well deserved. After a 14 hour journey
in the car, we all retired to our respective cabins and passed out. I had the
best sleep I have had in my time in Kenya with the crisp mountain air creating
the ideal sleeping environment, something I had come accustomed to in Maine. I went
to sleep knowing that tomorrow we take on Mt. Kenya.
7,000 ft to 10,000 ft
In
the morning we woke to a spectacular view of Mt. Kenya perched between the dark
branches of our camp and floating on a sea of clouds. We all felt very well
rested and ready to take on the day. Over a breakfast of sausage, pancakes and
bananas, we met our other two guides, Gioko and Kimau. Gioko is a soft spoken
man with a wealth of outdoors experience having been a guide for NOLS when they
were still active in Kenya. Kimau was also actively involved with NOLS and radiates
confidence and cool especially when on the mountain. He also guides on
Kilimanjaro.
Mkongola, Kimau, Gioko
We
headed out of camp early to rent gear for the folks in our group who needed
boots and layers. We drove along a bumpy dirt road until we hit a nondescript
collection of buildings and a wooden roadside stall. Mecongola hopped out and
we assumed he was just stopping to chat or grab some more food. He then
beckoned us to come out of the van too. Confused, we piled out and suddenly the
place came alive. We looked a little closer and realized the roadside stall
actually had hiking gear arranged on it: bright yellow pants, ancient boots,
ponchos, etc. What seems to happen is that many foreigners come to Kenya to
climb the mountain and, to do so, they buy a lot of fancy gear and boots that
they know they will never use again. After completing their trip, they leave
their barely used equipment with their porters and guides and fly back home a
few pounds lighter. The donations quickly become part of the local economy as
the porters can then rent out the gear to anyone who needs it for a few dollars
a day. The gear everyone rented was not in the best of shape, but it certainly
did the job. After sorting out the gear we also picked up seven men who would
be our porters. They hopped in a separate matatu and would meet us at the
mountain.
Amal checking out the waterproof pant
After
a brief pit stop in town from more gear and some supplementary food (I made
GORP!), we headed to the Sirimon Gate entrance to Mt. Kenya national park. The
park has a varying set of fees for entrants. You get charged more for longer
stays, as one might expect, vehicles, etc. They also have a different fee for
East African Residents and non-residents (tourists). The fee for residents is
3,500 ksh for four days, about $40. For non-residents, the rate skyrockets to
20,000 ksh, about $220. My predicament was that I am currently still
technically a tourist. I do not have my East Africa Resident Card yet. But I
came prepared with letters from the Ministry of Education, the Academy and the
Aga Khan Development Network. The Kenya Wildlife Service (KWS) is notorious for
being extremely stingy about allowing reduced priced entry for those who do not
have the exact right documents, so my hopes of getting the reduced price were
slim at best. But I had no desire (or funds for that matter) to pay for the
non-resident entry. I presented my documents in a fancy looking folder to the
KWS guard. Kristine is also waiting for her residency card so she stood
steadfastly beside me and started talking up a storm. She pelted them with
information and subtly but forcefully laid out our case for reduced price
entry. One of the guards showed signs of caving in so we pressed the issue. Two
minutes later we paid out 3,500 ksh and walked into Mt. Kenya national park as
Residents of Kenya. Our biggest hurdle so far was cleared.
Our
hike started in the rain and we would soon realize that heavy rain would be a
near constant companion on our trip. We climbed up a long dirt road that wended
its way through thick forest and heavy undergrowth. We saw roving troops of
baboon, small gerbil-like creatures, and bushbuck off in the distance. The
mountain was teeming with wildlife. Elephants apparently often come out on the
road at night, but we were not fortunate enough to see any. The farther up we
climbed, the thinner the vegetation became. Tall, mighty trees gave way to
scraggly, tough shrubs and bushes. By the time we reached Old Moses campsite,
our stop for the night, we had gained about 2,500 ft of elevation over the
course of three hours. Camp itself was swampy from all the rain we had just trudged
through. But the clouds above us were frequently pierced by beautiful rays of
sunlight that played on the fields below us at the foot of the mountain.
When
night fell, we all jammed into the camp dinning hall, about 6 ft wide and 50 ft
long for dinner. We were joined by a two Danish girls, a group of about twelve
high school students from Mombasa, a German man who had just climbed
Kilimanjaro and a British student on his gap year. Each group had their own
porters that cooked for them so we all enjoyed different meals. After a hearty
meal of tomato soup, rice, beef, chapatti, and veggies, we retired to our bunk
room (slept all seven of us) and crashed at about 8:30 pm. Our guides had told
us we had at least and eight hour day ahead of us so we wanted to be prepared.
Conversation was light and soon enough everyone dozed off.
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