Final Goodbyes

Within the next couple of hours the rest of the porters and crew straggled down the muddy path eventually followed by the rest of our crew. We were all loaded into a large SUV and taken back to the Keys Hotel where a wonderful hot shower awaited us. We later went down to a fantastic supper and some well deserved cold beer. Later that evening, Faheem arranged for a doctor to visit me and we discussed the problem. He asked that I visit his clinic in Moshi the next day for tests. These tests – and more when I returned home – pointed the finger at Diamox, the drug we were taking to minimise the effects of altitude sickness. It was not a conclusive result, it is just that no other cause could be found and the reference books show bleeding as a possible side effect.

That evening we had a final dinner together in the hotel (together with some new friends from Australia and Western Canada who were going off with Tusker in the morning). That evening Kevin went off to meet his family, who were joining him for a week long vacation. In the morning Jo Ann and her husband, Dan (who had arrived the previous day) went on a 2-week safari. Amélie went into town for some last minute gift shopping before her flight home via Ethiopia (and a snow-bound Washington!). Ramona also headed off on Safari before going to Zanzibar with her freshly arrived American boyfriend Scott which they followed with some scuba diving in the Seychelles. Stephen, Martin and I did a 1-day Safari through Arusha Park and then we went home together.

It was an amazing 2-weeks that has had an enormous affect upon my life. Sometimes I wonder if it really happened, and then I look at the photographs and think about my new friends and smile. It was a huge challenge and, frankly, a difficult trek. It is definitely not for everyone. However, if you have the urge, CARE will be organising another Climb for CARE 2011 with a planned summit date to coincide with the 100^th anniversary of International Woman’s Day. If you have an interest to join with them on Kilimanjaro, and want to be involved raising funds for an extremely worthwhile cause, you can contact CARE via email at events@care.ca or call 1-800-267-5232 and they’ll be happy to answer any questions you may have. I can tell you that raising the money while just as challenging as climbing Kilimanjaro itself, will give you an equal satisfaction.

Bloody but not broken

Soon the trail transitioned into a very rocky, boulder strewn narrow river bed. These were not your ordinary boulders as they were large, sharp edged with two to three foot high steps. This was soon killing my knees. I was relying heavily on my hiking poles but with the slippery rocks and constant stepping down, I was really, really sore. At one point Amélie slipped above me and – thankfully – wiggled around to avoid falling directly down upon me but she managed to land heavily on the sharp edge of a rock. Good for me – bad for her! She later told me that it cost her a rather large bruise on that hip! After several hours I stopped to relieve myself and was shocked to see a stream of red blood emerge! I quietly went over to speak to Eliakim who was worrying over Stephen and Martin. He was taken aback when I added to that worry load. We eventually arrived at our final campsite where we were to eat lunch and spend our final night on the mountain. Eliakim asked that Malya accompany me to the bushes to observe just how badly I was bleeding. When the stream emerged, Malya’s eyes opened wide in shocked surprise when he saw the same bright red urine. He immediately went over to report to Eliakim who was still worried about Stephen and Martin. I went into the mess tent and Richard brought me a great big mango all sliced up and ready to eat! Eliakim came into the tent and Kevin asked of him, “Why don’t we just go down? We’re all wet. Half of us are sick and we could be sleeping in the hotel tonight.” Eliakim asked the rest of us and the uniform answer was, “Let’s go”.

He turned to me and said, “You have no choice. You’re going down immediately. Come with me.” I went out and found a large group of porters had gathered around one of the “Kilimanjaro Stretchers” waiting for me. My sleeping bag appeared and was laid out upon the stretcher. I was then laid upon it, my outer rain wear Gore-tex pants were removed along with my boots leaving me exposed in my long-johns. Stephen, who must have been feeling better, took great delight in photographing the moment prior to the sleeping bag being wrapped around me. I was tied onto the stretcher with plastic yellow cord and Amélie came and put her le Nordik hat upon my exposed head to protect me from the light rain that was now falling. The crew of six porters, two spares and Malya quickly grabbed the sides of the stretcher and balanced it upon the unicycle wheel and I was whisked towards the jungle canopy. The ride was incredibly rough. I was grateful to have Amélie’s hat as the rain started to fall heavily and once we were under the jungle leaves, huge drops would occasionally plop onto my face. The boys ran at a very quick pace with the stretcher bouncing violently down from step to rock to step. After about an hour they stopped to change around and have some ‘magi’ (Swahili for water). Then, back at it. Soon they came to a very muddy area of the path and they slipped and lost control. I went careening off into the forest and I could only see arms and legs flailing and screaming Swahili voices. As I was strapped securely to the stretcher I could do nothing but hope for the best! When I stopped a sheepish looking porter’s very muddy, wet face appeared above me. “Are you okay?” he asked. “Was I okay? Are you guys okay?” They all were quite a mess as they had all gone for quite a muddy ride yet I was dry and protected by the sides of the stretcher.

Soon I was at the bottom at the exit gate for Kilimanjaro and was freed from my stretcher prison. My clothing was returned to me and I dressed while the porters went off to get cleaned up at a facility that was provided for them at the gate house. I wandered over to the cleanest toilet building I had yet seen in Africa. It was spotless ceramic tile. When I emerged I slipped from my muddy boots on the wet tile and fell, clearing the 3-steps and landing heavily on the ceramic base. I lay there in the rain feeling quite sorry for myself. All my legs and arms were in intense pain and I could barely struggle to get up! I had just successfully climbed Mount Kilimanjaro and I hurt myself at the bottom in the washroom!!

More oxygen, please

HACE – High Altitude Cerebral Edema is a severe form of altitude sickness. It is the result of swelling of brain tissue from leakage of fluids from the capillaries due to the effects of hypoxia on the cells of the blood-brain barrier. The symptoms can include headache, loss of coordination, weakness and decreasing levels of consciousness including disorientation, loss of memory, hallucinations, psychotic behaviour and coma. Severe instances can lead to death if not treated quickly. This is what killed Marcel, and Stephen was now suffering from HACE. I was thankful that he was in Eliakim’s capable hands.

Our medical checks were much more intense that evening. It was decided to give Amélie oxygen as her headache had returned, although she insisted that she didn’t want or need oxygen, they gave it to her anyway. I asked if I could have some too and when asked, “Why?” I replied, “Because I’ve never had it!” “But you don’t need it.” “But I want to see what it will do for me.” Eventually they relented to my whinging and at bedtime Malya appeared in my tent with an oxygen tank. Wow! What a great boost! I felt energised and very clear headed. I only had it for about 10-minutes and I fell straight to sleep. I awoke for my first “Diamox break” around midnight. Our tent has two zippers to contend with and these had been constantly jamming with the volcanic dust of the mountain. However, with my totally clear, oxygen filled head, I managed to un-jam both zippers! It was the first time they had ran smooth in a week! I did my business and before returning to sleep, I looked up at the trail of headlamps as another group plodded their way to Uhuru Peak.

I awoke again just before sunrise. When I finished my toilet chores I looked about and could see Mount Mawenzi poking up above the surrounding cloud layer. It was a scene from Lord of the Rings. Mawenzi is a spire filled, straggly mountain peak and the cloud layer was thick and spread totally around and below us. It appeared solid enough to allow us to walk across to Mount Mawenzi itself. Sitting on a rock up ahead of me was Amélie. I crawled up the rocky layer toward her and we sat beside each other in the cold. It was a totally awe inspiring moment as – wordlessly - together we watched the sun rise up spectacularly first from below the cloud layer and then behind Mawenzi. Not a word was spoken as we eventually turned and smiled at each other, arose and hugged, and then descended back into our tents. A spiritual moment we shared that I’ll remember forever.

A few hours later we were all in the mess tent for breakfast. Stephen still looked rough but the shaking had gone and he had only a mild pounding in his head. He was hungry, so that was a good sign. Martin was still having stomach problems and found himself on the toilet far more frequently than he wished. Amélie and Ramona were both feeling quite good and Kevin, well does he ever feel bad? I was feeling pretty good although tired. After breakfast we broke camp and started down the mountain in the damp, misty rain.

Reaching the Top

We set off in high spirits in a set order with me behind Eliakim, followed by Ramona, Stephen, Amélie, Martin and Kevin at the rear with our other guides, Malya, Shabani and the ever present Naftel with our emergency gear. Eliakim, setting a very slow pace, insisted that we keep this grouping and kept chastising Martin for getting out of sequence. Initially the path went straight up the mountain but as it became steeper it evolved into a series of switchbacks. Each hour we had water breaks and our oxygen and heart rates were checked every couple of hours. As we neared the 17,500 foot level I was breathing very hard and Eliakim insisted that I relinquish my backpack to Daniel (one of the porters who was accompanying us for this purpose). After that, I felt like I could fly, but I felt bad for Daniel. Eliakim, however, was insistent: “No. You will not carry your pack. I am also thinking you will not sleep in the crater.” I wanted to argue but I had previously agreed that I would never argue with Eliakim when it came to medical decisions. My problem here was that he was basing his decision upon how I ‘appeared’, not the readings from the O2 meter. During one of the breaks, Amélie went to Eliakim and said she was developing a severe headache and didn’t think she would sleep in the crater either. This left Eliakim with a problem as our gear was now headed to the top of the mountain on the backs of several porters! Kevin, as always, was still the picture of health.

We soon crested the crater rim at Stella Point. I was first over the top and encounter two Brits seated on the edge with their guide and two porters. Seeing how exhausted I was, one of them joked, “You can’t go any further. The trail to Uruhu is closed.” I responded with a “Martin-like” expletive and kept walking past them. A short while later we all rested at Stella Point proper, about an hour away from our target at Uhuru. Stephen wasn’t looking well at all. It was Eliakim’s plan to eat lunch here, rest and then press on to the peak. When he saw Stephen’s state he asked of him, “Stephen. Would you like to rest and eat here or press on to the summit?” Stephen said, “Let’s just be done with it. Let’s go on.” And so we did. I led the way, keeping the pace as initially set by Eliakim while he darted about checking that each of us was okay and snapping various photos. Was we passed near a huge glacier I suddenly became aware of shouting. Unbeknownst to me, the group had stopped to take ‘tourist-like’ photographs in front of the glacier and I had just kept plodding on without them! I returned to the group and happily had a rest and participated in the photographs. I was so focused, I just wanted to get to Uhuru. Stephen was looking unsteady on his feet and was very irritable. Amélie had a huge headache. Martin was complaining of stomach cramps. Ramona had recovered and was doing quite good. I felt slightly light headed, but otherwise fine. Kevin, as ever, felt great.

There was a small hillock of rocks blocking the path that required us to extend our bums out over the crater to pass and then within minutes we were at the rickety signpost at Uhuru Peak. Mass elation erupted as we all hugged one another in relief and exultation. A multitude of cameras appeared and myriads of photographs were taken. Kevin pulled out Jo Ann’s iPod saying, “We even have a piece of Jo Ann to include in our photos!” which raised a cheer from all. Almost unnoticed, the weather closed in rapidly and snow began to fall. Naftel gave me a bag full of food and I immediately started chewing on a cold roasted chicken leg (he told me it was chicken but had the suspicious shape of the legs on the ravens we kept seeing along the trip). It tasted great and I sat on a rock below the famous Kilimanjaro sign – oblivious to everything around me – and thoroughly enjoyed the nourishment!

I glanced up and saw Stephen & Kevin almost running down the path in the snowstorm, followed by Ramona, Martin and several guides and porters. Naftel grabbed my lunch bag from my hands and Eliakim said, “We have to go. Fast.” and he pointed to lightening that was that instant striking just beyond the glacier below us. “Go with Daniel”. I grabbed my gear and set off after Daniel. I looked behind and Amélie and Eliakim were the last to leave the summit behind me.

The snow was now falling quite heavily and I could barely keep Daniel in site as he was moving so fast. He disappeared over the crater lip and virtually fell down the loose volcanic scree on the steep edge of the mountain. At times I was virtually skiing down the slope in the loose scree and heavy snow. Daniel was now far ahead of me and I was following only the mixed up black scree that I could see amongst the white snow. Eventually, with Daniel’s speed and the very heavy snow, I lost the trail. I stopped and stared. I turned a full 360° around and looked fruitlessly about. Not a sign. I could only see about 10-metres in any direction. I knew which way was down, but that’s about it. The trail was lost. I unexpectedly felt a tap on my back. It was a face I didn’t know. He introduced himself as ‘Chris’. “I’m the cook for another Tusker group.” Follow me. Eventually Chris had me up behind Daniel and he shouted something to Daniel in Swahili and swiftly left us in his trail. Another hour or so following Daniel and the trail was gone again. This time, nobody tapped my shoulder. My knees were now burning from the constant impact they were taking during the rapid descent. I was feeling quite desolate when Daniel’s head appeared up from behind a rock. “Babu. Pole, sana”. I came up behind Daniel and scolded him in English, “What do you mean, go very slowly. I am going very slowly but you’re not!!” Of course, this meant nothing to him as he didn’t speak English. Off he went again. The snow had lightened somewhat but I could still see lightening lighting up the clouds in the distant. It was a very strange sight as the light was beside and below me rather than above! Occasionally, you could feel the electricity across your forehead from the very high humidity.

At this time, Eliakim and Amélie caught up to me. Amélie complained bitterly about the electrical strikes as she and Eliakim felt them across their foreheads very strongly at the higher altitudes. We paused and Eliakim wrapped up my knee with a tensor bandage and then continued down at a much slower pace than I had been doing. I was grateful for the company and Amélie’s headache had disappeared with the lower altitude. The snow soon changed to rain and then stopped as we passed through Millenium Camp and we continued down to Barafu. We arrived at about 4:30 in the afternoon to the cheers, clapping and congratulations of our porters. Richard appeared with a thermos of sweet, hot tea that was gratefully received. Eliakim sent us directly to our tents to change into dry, warm clothing. “Put on the warmest clothing that you have”, was his instruction.

I went into the mess tent where the others had gathered. We were all exhausted, tired and elated. The conversation was very animated as we all compared thoughts and feelings. Stephen was the last to arrive and we all went quiet. He stumbled into the tent and was shaking uncontrollably. He appeared to be shivering from cold but he had changed and his clothing was dry. He spoke incoherently and needed help to sit down. I quickly screamed out for Eliakim to come quickly. Eliakim rapidly assessed that Stephen was suffering from a cerebral edema. Rather than run for his medical kit, he asked if any of us had the Dexamethasone steroid with us. Someone quickly pulled out a medicine vial and handed it to Eliakim. Stephen’s shivering subsided and he drank some warm tea. Eliakim led Stephen away to his tent where he provided him with oxygen for over a half an hour. Our mess tent was very quiet as we each exchanged glances of worry over Stephen’s condition. I thought of Marcel Bujold.

Queuing up for the Karanga Valley

We all arrived at breakfast without headaches and eager to tackle the famous Barranco Wall. We emerged from the mess tent for our day ‘4’ photograph and I wondered why there was none of the normal sense of urgency in our guide’s actions and when I looked up at the wall, I realised why. There was only a single path zig-zagging up the wall and on it were what seemed like hundreds of hikers and porters! They appeared as ants very slowly moving Indian file up the cliff face. Eventually, we left our camp in company of most of our porters. It soon became clear why the select group of porters were with us – empty handed. The path required much more than simple hiking skills as it became necessary to stow our hiking poles and clamber up rock faces and boulders. Some were quite high and there was always a helping hand appearing from above that was attached to one of our trusty porters. These amazingly strong Tanzanians could easily haul you up quite steep rocks with those unwavering hands. When we came to “kissing rock”, I was really glad they were there. This is a very steep outcropping with a miniscule ledge that required you to hug the boulder and tip-toe along the ledge with outstretched arms. What a great feeling when I felt Naftel’s large, strong hands latch onto my forearm as I came around the rock. Stephen, who has a fear of heights, had a glance down when he came around the rock. He told me later how his knees started to buckle and then chattered uncontrollable as trepidation came over him. He said , “My body could not get any closer to that boulder. I was so glad the porters were there to help us.”

Since there was virtually a queue to head up the cliff face, the going was quite slow. I really enjoyed the challenge of stretching and reaching my way up the rock face. By the time we reached the top of the cliff, all of us (except perhaps Stephen) were invigorated and giggly.

Our guides told us that this was to be a short day as we hiked across the plateau atop Barranco. In fact, in very short order, we could see the next campsite. It wasn’t even noon yet! What we failed to see, however, was the Karanga Valley that lay between us. Karanga Camp is located at 13,200 feet and I think we went down to around 12,000 feet within the valley. At the bottom is a stream where the guides were loading up with water. This was the last water source until the summit. All of the water we were to use from here on had to be hauled on the heads of the porters! There was already a stream of them heading up the valley slope to Karanga Camp on the top of the plateau. We arrived inside the mess tent just as the skies opened up with a torrential hail storm! We couldn’t have timed it any better.

I had developed a blister on the first day in the forest after wearing sock liners under my wools socks. The theory is that the liners would wick away moisture preventing such problems. However, in my case, they allowed movement between the two sock layers with the resulting hot spot that developed into a blister. This burst open today and left a nasty, bloody mess on my heel. I cleaned it up as best I could and “Daktari” (Swahili for doctor) Eliakim crawled into my tent and applied a moleskin. “Leave it on until we leave the mountain” were his instructions. Amazing stuff, as I had no further issues and it fell off on its own on our last day.

The plan was to spend two days at Karanga in order to better acclimatise before heading to Barafu and the summit. In between, we did a short training hike up the main trail to 14,600 feet. When asked when we would turn back Eliakim replied, “When I have to pee.”

It was during this training hike that we yet again encountered our Norwegian friends, Tonje and Bjarte. Tonje was looking terrible and her complexion was ghostly white. She could barely talk and was moving very slowly. When Eliakim spotted her he strode directly up to her and asked, “How long have you had this diarrhoea?” She was shocked. Tonje is a very slightly built, small woman and this stranger who towered over her was asking her this very personal question. She shyly backed away and hid behind me. I turned to her and explained, “Eliakim knows what he is talking about. He is a high altitude medically trained guide who wants to help you. You’ve said nothing about your illness and yet he has spotted you have a problem. Let him help you.” She pondered my words and then nodded to Eliakim, “Three days.” She was totally dehydrated and unable to eat or drink – and she was planning to climb to the summit tomorrow!!! Eliakim barked out orders to his fellow guides in Swahili. They quickly came forward with several medications. Instructions were given to Tonje and also to her guide. The next time we saw her, she had completed the summit. Her face had a rosey pink glow and she felt great. I suspect that Eliakim may have saved her life.

On day 6 we were up early and on the trail headed to Barafu. Our porters had already made the trip there and back to stock our camp with water. Shabani had rejoined us with the news that Jo Ann was now happily settled into the Keys Hotel in Moshi. The weather had turned and it was now cold and wet with occasional flurries. The landscape was covered with loose shale and larger rocks. There was no sign of any plant life save the odd, dry withering cactus. It was tough going on this loose rock and we were glad to have the extra balance afforded by the hiking poles. It was amazing to see the porters walk by without poles and with 20kg containers of water balanced atop their heads!! Barafu camp is situated very precariously on the edge of a cliff with a path leading straight up toward Stella Point and alongside a glacier. We were very close to our goal now. We could clearly see the rim of the crater.

After dinner we had a discussion about the next day’s summit. We would awaken at 4:30 am and leave by 5:30 am. The plan was for Kevin, Amélie and me to spend the next night inside the volcano at Crater Camp as we were not showing any signs of altitude sickness. Martin had been having nauseous stomach problems as was Ramona. Stephen was having constant headaches. It was hoped that we “Crater Campers” would be able to make two summits. One when we arrived and another on the way back down in the morning. We were all fairly cold that night as we were enveloped by cloud and the temperature was -10°C.

I awoke on my own at 4:00 am and checked the temperature inside the tent. It was -5°C and I had frost on my breath. I stepped outside wearing my headlamp and looked toward the mountain. There was a long, snaking line of headlamps disappearing into the night. Many start their summits at midnight so they can be on the top when the sun rises and to afford sufficient time for their descent. I doubted they would see much this morning as the cloud cover was thick. We were served a really huge breakfast, high in calories and carbohydrates to fuel us for our upcoming trial.

Headaches and Heartbreaks

Stephen was doing pretty good and was always in good humour and kept us laughing with his funny comments. Martin was turning into a really funny guy! Just 26-years old, he is in terrific shape and regularly climbs Mt. Washington (6,288 feet in New Hampshire) just for fun! He was quickly grasping English but, from out of nowhere, every English swear word known to mankind would accompany his new-found vocabulary. Strangely, we were soon emulating this new method of English communication. Our Tanzanian guides were soon joining in and we all were sounding like a bunch of sailors who were too long at sea! It was all very strange as none of us would ever normally use this type of language and yet, here we were! His English improved daily, as did my ‘joual’. Amélie initially complained about a few sore muscles but, being so young, she had already adjusted and was doing well. She had a great outlook on life and split her time conversing in French with Martin and verbally jousting with the rest of us. Her wisdom frequently belied her young years. Ramona was a real trooper: the personal trainer coming out of her all the time. Knowing just when to push, how to encourage. I was really impressed at how she was so supportive of Jo Ann when we were walking together.

Kevin, my tent mate, was having a ball. This was not his first trip to Kilimanjaro. Five years previously, whilst living in Kenya with his wife, they decided to try and climb Kili as it seemed like “the thing to do”. Together they hired a local guide outfit and set off on “The Coca-Cola” trail. This route is the quickest way up Kilimanjaro and you can get up and down in less than 5-days. It is also a very easy, gradual, steady trail that takes you directly to the top from the eastern side of the mountain. However, climbers have but a 25% success rate on this trail. Kevin found out why when he reached the 15,000 foot Kibo Hut and felt like his head was going to explode. He stayed behind trying to sleep in the hut while his wife continued on and successfully summited. When they returned, perhaps 8-hours later, he felt much better and was ready to continue on. However, it was now too late and they had to return down the mountain. Our climb was Kevin’s revenge on Lady Kilimanjaro! He was in excellent condition, maintained by playing hockey several times per week, and knew better than us all what to expect. On this trip, Kevin was very aware of the “climb high, sleep low” axiom we were following under Tusker’s tutelage.

Breakfast was more jovial than most. I think all of the singing and dancing served its purpose to boost our collective morale and lend the encouragement required. I noticed a particularly relaxed attitude on Jo Ann that morning. After breakfast we all dispersed to pack our gear and make ready for the day when the shocker was delivered to me. Eliakim came over to me and pulled me aside. “Jo Ann has decided to go down.”

I was indeed shocked. Jo Ann had looked so happy and serene at breakfast. I guess this was because she had made up her mind and was comfortable with the decision – and the knowledge that she’d be sleeping in a warm, cozy hotel room that night? Eliakim had come to me first as he was aware of my hiking relationship with Jo Ann and he asked if I might talk to her. I went over to Jo Ann’s tent and crawled into the entrance. She was busily packing her bag and had a content look upon her face. Jo Ann is a very determined woman. When she makes her mind up – it’s made up! I could see that look upon her face and knew right away this wouldn’t be easy. We chatted for about 15-minutes and I became emotional as I attempted to tug at her heart strings. (That backfired!) Eventually Ramona appeared behind me to take a crack at changing Jo Ann’s mind. Jo Ann later told me that each and every one of us took an individual try to convince her to go on. That illustrated how we were all each so devoted to each other and the success of the climb.

We all hugged Jo Ann and exchanged farewells. Shabani and one of the porters were to accompany her back to Moshi. I told him to take good care of her and he, of course, promised he would. We took a last (complete) group photograph (day 3) and hiked off in different directions: we were headed up and Jo Ann and Shabani headed down.

We were a much quieter group that morning. Me, more than the others, as I sulked along, feeling as though I’d let Jo Ann down - that I could have done more with our training hikes. I knew this was ridiculous, but I still felt that way. Our moods brightened slightly as we climbed ever higher and actually came upon a direction sign! It was made up of several stones cemented together, giving directions to Shira Hut, Lava Tower, Moir Hut, Arrow Glacier and Barranco. I posed for a silly photograph atop the marker and after a water/biological break, we pressed on.

Ramona had with her a guide book that spoke of things to watch out for along the trail. One of these was to look for a cairn of rocks that was placed as a marker for a Canadian hiker who had died on Kilimanjaro in 2007. It was extremely rare to have any such marker as the Tanzanian government discouraged them. We asked Malya and Eliakim about this cairn and they asked to see the guide book and discussed it between themselves for several minutes in Swahili. Eventually, Malya told me that he would let me know when we reached this spot. As we hiked along, each of us started to become aware of the beginnings of a head ache. It started slowly, but we all knew that this was the beginnings of altitude sickness. Several were fed Panadol tablets by Eliakim. As we quietly approached a small, outcropping that almost formed a cave, Malya stopped and turned to me: “Bob, this is where your friend died.” What? I stopped in my tracks. “My friend?” I enquired. “Yes. Marcel Bujold died here”. I almost fell over. Our group went instantly quiet. Marcel Bujold was part of the Climb for CARE 2007 and died while he was being evacuated from the mountain. He was the only death on the mountain that had occurred with Tusker in their 30-years in Kilimanjaro. We had no idea that “the Canadian” referred to in Ramona’s book was Marcel - whose story we were all well aware of when we started the climb. Malya explained to me that he was in charge of the evacuation and this was the spot where he succumbed to a high altitude cerebral edema (HACE) caused by altitude sickness. It was Stephen Malya who had later returned and built the cairn. Marcel was a 65-year old retired physical education instructor from Carleton, Quebec. We all silently paid our respects to Marcel Bujold and then quietly continued up the mountain.

Not a word was spoken until we saw Lava Tower looming in the distance. Our mess tent had been erected nearby. My altimeter read over 15,000 feet. We had a very quiet lunch. Eliakim questioned us about the lack of normal banter, “Why are you all so quiet?” Our response ranged from headache to my still feeling bummed out about Jo Ann to the remorse regarding Marcel Bujold. None of us felt like walking over and exploring Lava Tower. It was already explained to us that climbing the tower was now forbidden as the structure had developed several cracks and it was deemed a dangerous proposition. I took my first pair of Panadol in an effort to subdue the headache I was feeling.

That afternoon, I stayed at the back of the pack with Ramona and we slowly descended the Barranco Valley amidst the strangest vegetation I had ever encountered. I felt like I was on a Star Trek set! With lower altitudes my headache diminished but my knees were feeling the pain of continual jumps down higher rocks. I was very grateful to have the assistance provided by my hiking poles to lessen the impact. Still, my knees were screaming at me to stop. Ramona was suffering a similar headache but she still managed to crack a few jokes and keep my spirits high. The weather had turned quite chilly and the clouds stayed with us allowing the cold to penetrate our bodies.

Karanga Camp sits high overlooking the town of Moshi. It was odd, as dusk fell, to look so far below us at the twinkling lights and think about life going along as normal in the town. Our thoughts were also with Jo Ann, snug in her hotel bed after a long, hot shower. Considering the rough day we had, with the headaches, colder weather, steep and rocky descent into the Barranco Valley, we all agreed that perhaps Jo Ann had indeed made the correct decision. We were all extremely exhausted that evening. Just before heading into my tent, I took a walk around the camp. There were many more hiking groups here. One of the other groups’ guides were having a party! I walked down to the cliff edge. The clouds had moved down below us and obscured my view of Moshi. Occasionally, they would part and I’d catch a twinkle of a streetlight. To my left, in the moonlight, was our next major obstacle: the Barranco Wall. I had heard so many stories of the difficulties of clambering up this near vertical wall of over 1000 feet. No doubt about it, it certainly is steep and imposing. Tonight, it was just a beautiful cliff basking in the moonlight. As I was considering the day events and the suitability of Jo Ann’s decision I turned and looked up behind me at the snow capped monster that watched over everything. Oddly, within the craggy features of Kibo, was a cut of rocks that had been filled in with the snow that had fallen on the top during the day. It was in the perfect formation of a Holy cross standing guard over the entire camp. I went to sleep that night with a myriad of thoughts swirling in my head.

Through the Moir Valley

One of the drugs we were recommended to take to help us avoid altitude sickness was Diamox. This helps the body adapt to the higher altitudes by accumulating the carbon dioxide and allowing the body to expel it with your urine. What this means is that you must urinate every 2-hours! As I remarked earlier, this doesn’t allow for a very restful sleep. The first couple of nights had me wrestling with the ‘mummy’ type sleeping bag and subsequently the two tent zippers, to struggle out to relieve myself. Invariably, I was never alone in those late night sojourns. Whilst I was standing outside at Shira camp during one of these “Diamox sessions”, I happened to look up. The sky was vividly lit by millions of stars. I had never before seen such a brilliance in the sky. The Southern Cross was also very evident (as we were south of the equator). I turned and looked towards Kibo (the actual name of the mountain. Kilimanjaro is a region, Kibo is the main peak.) I stared in awe at our goal for about 15-minutes when suddenly a light appeared on the rim. Then another. The two lights bobbed along the edge of the crater rim in what is known as the Western Breach. Just then, a dark form appeared beside me: it was Eliakim. He also looked up and followed the two lights. He spoke, “These are two climbers going through the Western Breach. It is closed since two Americans were killed there a couple of years ago in a rock slide. You can get special permission to use this access but it is very dangerous.” Together we silently watched the two head-lamped climbers walk along the rim for about 20-minutes until their lights went out. My heart raced knowing that I would soon be heading to their destination at Uhuru Peak on the top of Kibo. I had trouble falling back asleep after that.

We awoke to brilliant sunshine, a magnificent view of Kibo and a dusty wind! Ramona had us all up and doing morning stretches with a bit of yoga thrown in, much to the amusement of the porters. With bandanas and buffs covering our mouths, we took our morning day number 3 group photo and headed off across the plain. Shira was once the third peak of Kilimanjaro (Mawenzi is the other) but because of constant wind and erosion, is now nothing more than a very flat plain. I was told that lions will still hunt game in this area but we saw no signs of this. (What was I doing out walking alone last night!) During this day we would often look back and see another tall mountain very much to the west of Kilimanjaro, yet currently closer to us: Mount Maru. It is 15,000 feet high and also disappeared in the afternoon cloud cover. Martin frequently remarked that this was “a f***ing big mountain” and we could hardly believe that Kibo was taller. As we ascended Kibo and looked behinds us at Mt. Maru, it began to appear rather diminutive, putting it all into perspective.

Once we had crossed the plain we entered into the Moir valley (at least, this is what I called it). This valley yielded incredible vistas that went on forever. There was very little scrub here and we hiked up to the edge of the valley walls towards the Moir hut at 13,600 feet on my altimeter. The less plant life we encountered, the less oxygen. Jo Ann had been having breathing problems and was going much more slowly than the main group. Eliakim was staying with her and had taking to carrying her day pack. After lunch Ramona and I elected to join the ‘tail-enders’ and try to lend encouragement to Jo Ann. We had a good time, singing a few songs, chatting endlessly, laughing at Ramona dancing along to her iPod. Unfortunately, we could see that Jo Ann was struggling for lack of breath and privately we began to worry. To her credit, Jo Ann would never complain, just “hunker down” and press on. Eliakim was very up beat, though – insisting that there was no problem and Jo Ann would recover and easily join us at the top of Kili. Always with a joke or two, Eliakim was always telling Jo Ann she could be his second wife. I kept informing him that Dan, Jo Ann’s husband, is a big guy who could snap him in two with one hand! Of course, this would only bring another hearty laugh to Eliakim and he would sing more words of encouragement to Jo Ann. In all, in spite of the insanity of walking through cold, wet clouds, it was a good day.

Let me say a few words about walking through clouds. We all see them every day and think about how lovely and soft they are. How wonderful it must be to be in amongst them. Hah! They’re cold, damp and when you breathe whilst enveloped by their gloomy mist, their icy fingers freeze the insides of your lungs! For me, at least, it was a horrible feeling to be in the clouds! Whenever we had to walk through them, I habitually pulled my buff up from my neck and wore it as a mask in an attempt to pre-heat the cold, humid air before it went into my lungs. It certainly affected me more than the others as I was the only one who complained about it whenever given the opportunity. It was also strange to look out over the clouds and see a jet plane flying below you!

When we arrived at Moir Hut we were given a special treat. All of the Tusker crew that arrived before us had gathered on a huge rock. As soon as our tail end group came into sight, they arose into song. It was an inspiring Swahili tribal song that told of warriors returning from a successful battle. Each of our names was included in the song. The chorus leader – a porter nicknamed “Mr. Nice” – lead the group with a war dance wielding a home-made spear! It was totally fantastic. In spite of being absolutely exhausted from our 10-hour hike, we were encouraged to join in the dance with the group. Dropping our day packs, join we did! Jo Ann was led to the front by Eliakim and even she, totally drained of energy, couldn’t help but join in the dancing – swinging her hips in time to the African rhythms. Then, one of the oddest things happened. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed a TV camera man appear! We’re talking a full sized, TV camera on the shoulder of an Asian gentlemen. There was only one other group at the camp site and he obviously was part of it. This cameraman was determined to completely cover this spontaneous song and dance routine in the middle of nowhere, Africa. Afterward, I spoke with him. He was from NHK, the Japanese national television service doing a documentary on Kilimanjaro. Apparently, we’re now going to be featured on a TV special in Japan! We exchanged email addresses and I’ve since made contact. I’m hoping a DVD arrives in my mail box any day now.

The Moir Hut camp area is rarely used now and that is why there were only two groups staying here that night. Kevin, Stephen, Amélie and I went off to explore the old, now dilapidated hut. It was located just a little ways above us but we all had to really press ourselves to climb that little slope. What are we going to do tomorrow when we’re supposed to reach 15,000 feet at Lava Tower? We all three just stared at each other when the question was voiced.

I went to sleep that night with many questions on my mind. I was really, really tired when we climbed up to explore the hut. I began to worry about Jo Ann. Was she going to make it? I had done several training hikes with her and saw her fitness improve dramatically, but she was really struggling with the altitude and lack of oxygen. She was already having altitude related headaches and had to take several Panadol tablets. Tomorrow we would be climbing even higher. How would she fair?

Baba vs Babu

Back into the 6x6 and out across the beautiful African savannah. Soon we pulled over with the driver announcing, “We have a puncture.” My team mates quickly enquired, “What’s a puncture?”, as they were unaware of the British expression for a flat tire. Within about 20-seconds our trailing truckload of porters had a spare truck tire rolling towards us. With about 10-Tanzanians watching, one alone did an exceptional job of undoing and redoing the 6 retaining bolts (the other 6 just weren’t there!) Ramona went off into the tall grass to relieve herself – more in fear of snakes than of us catching her on camera! Eventually we arrived at the Londerosi Gate of Kilimanjaro Park. My altimeter now showed 7080 feet! Wow, this was 1/3 of the way! Could it be this easy? The government inspectors came and weighed each bag the porters had to carry as there is a strict limit of 20kg per porter in addition to his own pack. There was a time when porters were expected to haul up to 50 – 60 kg each!! The Tusker porters all lined up and also had their personal gear examined to ensure they were prepared for the colder climes to be experienced. This all took place while we were fed a bagged lunch that included things such as “Glucose Biscuits”, a cold wiener, boiled egg, a warm carrot stick, butter on dodgy bread, a melted chocolate bar and a wonderful mango juice box. Then we were all required to sign in with our passport numbers. Suddenly, we were loaded back onto the truck! I had mistakenly thought that this was our starting point. We were soon driving deep into the jungle on something that was once considered a road, but was now a rutted, deep, muddy quagmire. This was why we had such a serious mode of transportation. Our driver was superb as he navigated the metre deep ruts of mud to eventually deposit us into a forest clearing. All gear was unloaded and we became aware of the entourage we had engaged to get us to the top of Kili. There were 35-guides and porters! That’s 5-people to support each climber!! How embarrassing! We had 3-guides, 1-emergency tech, 1-cook, 1-waiter and the rest were to carry all the food, gear, tents, and whatever else.

Knowing that Ramona was once a cheerleader for both the Toronto Argonauts and also the Oakland Raiders, I had brought along a set of pom-poms for her and surprised her with them. She was thrilled and stuck them onto the sides of her backpack. We took our first “Day 1” group shot and started off up an elephant track – yes, I said elephant track – up a hill and into the forest. How did I know it was an elephant track? Well, my first clue was the elephant dung along the way (and there’s no mistaking elephant dung), then the massive tree branches broken off and finally, because Shabani told me so! I was a little disappointed though, when Malya (I call our guide Stephen Malya by his last name so as not to confuse him with our own Stephen Maine) told me that the elephants had all left the area a week previously because of the heavy rains they had. I said, “I really, really want to see an elephant in the wild.” Malya replied, “No, you don’t!”

This first day was a relatively light one as we had started after lunch. Still, when we arrived at “Mti Kubwa kambi”, (“Big Tree Camp”) all of us had worked up a healthy, frothy sweat. We were each provided with our own basin with warm water to wash up and we all happily traipsed into the dinner tent with raging appetites. These appetites were met with a veritable feast as we soon found out that we were to be fed 4000 to 4500 calories each per day!! During this first meal I asked Eliakim about this moniker, ‘Babu’. “Who called you that?” was his query. I explained about the women in Mandaka. He seemed quite miffed and Richard, the waiter, smiled knowingly. Apparently, Babu literally means, Grandfather. However, in the context it was used, it means more like, “wise leader”. This puts my social ranking above the ‘Baba’ title that Eliakim had as chief guide! This latter part was later explained to me by Malya, who also chuckled to himself. From then on, thanks to Malya and Richard, ALL of the porters and guides addressed me as Babu – much to the chagrin of Baba! Eliakim would never call me Babu, but Richard and the others took delight in calling me that in front of Eliakim. Night fell early as we ended the day with medical checks tea, coffee and biscuits. Overly warm in our sub-arctic sleeping bags we rapidly fell asleep to soothing sounds of the jungle.

Only to be awaken around 3:00am by chattering and squawking monkees! My altimeter showed 9,200 feet and the temperature was 10°C this morning. The kima (a type of local monkee) and the Diamox had ensured that we had but a light sleep. Day 2 group shot and we were off. We hiked a fair amount and were soon out of the forest and into a scrub-like area. It was a constant up-hill hike with frequent stops for water. It was amazing how we had left the porters breaking camp and within 2-hours, they had caught us up and passed us, only to have the mess tent erected and a hot lunch ready upon our arrival! Another great meal was had and off we went towards Shira plain. The sight of our camp already set up below us was very welcome as it was a long, tiring walk. My altimeter read 11,300 feet and we could already notice the lesser amount of oxygen available to us. It was just harder to do normal things. I also took note of how we were climbing up higher, and then heading to the lower plain to sleep.

It was here at Shira camp where we first met several others climbing with other groups. Two twenty-something girls from Brighten, England whom we would run across several more times on the trip as well as a couple from Norway: Tonje and Bjarte who were travelling alone with a single guide and a few porters. We would meet the Norwegians at regular intervals on the trek. The diminutive Tonje was already looking rather pale whereas Bjarte was a huge, strapping “Viking like” presence. The picture of Nordic health.

That evening I took the time to introduce myself to our chef, Magnus. He and his assistant, Richard, were performing miracles out here feeding not only us, but the entire 35-man entourage that accompanied us. I spent a few hours in the kitchen tent chatting, helping to chop vegetables and tasting soup. Magnus, a very tall Tanzanian with a striking goatee, had a wonderful humour and a great outlook on life. Richard also served as our waiter and was in training under Magnus’ tutelage. After my visits, I noticed how Richard would start giving me special favours: extra mangoes, more soup. This was soon noticed by the others and I would be asked, “Hey Bob. Can you get me some more mango?”

Journey to the Top of Africa

After the euphoria of the incredibly successful Trivia Night we held at the Russell House, I now had to concentrate my efforts to ensure an equally successful climb of Kilimanjaro. My late nights of anxiety after combing the Internet and reading of other climbing failures had me wondering.

The seemingly interminable flight to Africa culminated in a late night landing at JRO – Kilimanjaro International Airport. The air was tropically warm and the terminal building sticky and hot as we crowded to obtain a landing visa. $50US, thank you! Our guide company, Tusker Trail, had arranged our pickup by an affable driver named Peter who whisked us through customs and quickly on the road to our hotel in Moshi. Through the shadowy moonlight he pointed our goal to the left. Just barely visible were the snowy white peaks I had seen in so many photographs. Travelling in the van with me were CARE climbing team members Jo Ann MacMillan, an Ottawa civil servant who had been on several training climbs with me in the Gatineau Hills, and Martin Coulombe, a francophone Quebec National Assembly guard. We really didn’t see much of our new home at the Keys Hotel that evening. Just time to grab a few bottles of water and then ‘hit the rack’.

I awoke at 5:00 am and went out for a walk. In the distance, the mountain loomed over everything. Its peak sparkled white in the morning sunshine. Wow! It is really, really big! Can I really climb to the top of that thing?

Back at the hotel, the rest of our crew slowly ambled in for breakfast. Amélie Babcock is the youngest member of our group at just 21-years. She works two jobs: one for an NGO at a Hull school and also at the Nordik Spa in Chelsea. Stephen Maine, the most successful of our fund raisers (he raised over twice as much as anyone else!) works for Trend Micro, an Ottawa Internet security company. Ramona Braganza joined us from her home in Vancouver. She is a personal trainer, for the likes of Halle Berry, Jessica Biel and Jessica Alba. Ramona had just finished working with Jess Biel on the new ‘A-Team’ film before she joined us. Finally, a late arrival was Kevin McCort, the President of CARE Canada. He was arriving from Kenya, where he was attending to CARE business.

We were such an odd assortment of people from such varied walks of life yet we all got on so well. We were instantly a very happy and cooperative family about to meet our new father. After breakfast we had our first meeting with the Tusker crew. Introduced by Faheem, the local company organiser and trouble shooter, we met Eliakim Mashanga. Our new ‘father’ or ‘Baba’ in Swahili. As ‘Baba’ he would be the one to watch over us and have the absolute final decision on everything in our expedition. At his side would be Stephen Malya and Shabani. All three were highly skilled, medically trained guides with extensive experience in Kilimanjaro. They explained their roll, some of the equipment they would be bringing along (such as Oxygen cylinders!), showed us our sleeping pads (which turned out to be incredibly comfortable) and delved out our duffle bags – uniquely designed for our upcoming environment. They then took the first baseline of our medical condition, measuring our resting pulse rate and O2 levels. We were then asked to return to our rooms and lay all of our equipment out on our beds for an inspection. This was to determine that we were all adequately prepared for the ordeal!

For the afternoon, CARE had arranged for us to visit a local village that had been very successful in setting up a CARE supervised Wakeza Project, VSL or Village Savings & Loan. We all crammed into a CARE labelled SUV for the “10-minute drive”. (My first experience with ‘African time’. The drive took about 45-minutes!) Our sweaty bodies emerged at the very quiet Madaka Village. The meeting had already started and we were late!! This is where we ‘westerners’ can learn something about running meetings. Each of us were fined for being late and had to deposit money (about $2) into a jar. This jar also gets filled if you speak out of turn at the meeting! Definitely a couple of rules that should be instituted in our meetings! Our interpreter, Deogratis (his name is latin for “thanks be to God”), provided an on-going explanation of the proceedings (he was given an exemption from the fining process!). After the meeting we took the standard group photo and then were invited by the village chief to a snack and a drink (they drink ‘way too much soda pop here!) I took photos of everyone and handed out candies. Later, we met some of the children and their pets. Ramona, with her dark skin, was a big hit as many of the women had them try on their colourful wraps. The women also took a liking to my greying beard and started calling me ‘Babu’. Goodbyes and thank you’s completed, we squeezed back into the SUV for the ride home. While driving through Moshi I became quite excited to see all the market stalls open and thousands of people around. I asked the driver stop and he responded, “hakuna matata” (no problem!) and I jumped out to find my own way home. Stephen and Amélie joined me as together we explored African city life.

The next morning we were all up early and packed. All our mountain gear in the duffle bags, day gear in our backpacks - loaded down with an additional 4-litres of water apiece. Our suitcases were hauled off to local storage. It was 28°C and my altimeter showed 2780 feet. We all clambered into a huge ex-military 6x6 truck for our 5-hour drive to the start point. After an hour or so of driving we stopped at a small village to allow our truckload of porters a break. We had a ball playing with the local street kids. Stephen in particular was a superstar as he played with them all taking their photos and having them pose in various states. Ramona soon had them dancing – emulating Michael Jackson. I really enjoyed it as they taught me various Swahili words for different animals and then they would each do their best to emulate the animal actions. Eliakim took me aside and said, “It is a good thing that you do here. This is the only love these children ever see.”

Safari huanza!

Its time. I start my journey in a few hours. I finished packing yesterday. What a job that was! My goal was to put all of my hiking gear into my carry on. i.e. my backpack. That proved to be pretty much impossible so I had to weed through things and include only absolute essentials, with the rest in my suitcase. The reasoning for this packing strategy is that it is a common occurrence that checked baggage doesn't make to the hotel for the Kili climb start time. The result is that I would still have enough to complete the climb, its just that my socks will start to get very ripe!

I had a lovely chat yesterday with Andrea Seymour and it appears that all is in hand regarding communications back to 'base', that being the CARE office in Ottawa. The idea is that one of us each day will leave a voice message and it will be posted on the web site. We should also be able to text short messages back and receive text messages. I hope there is a way to send a daily photograph. I know that the Welsh Women Walking group are able to do so with similar equipment. We'll have to wait and see. I guess its bugging me because I like to have things tested and ready before I go.

I had thought that Kevin was already in Africa but the Haiti conference in Montreal this past Monday kept him from going early as planned. Instead he'll stay longer after our climb to complete his chores for CARE. I'm assuming that he will now be travelling together with Jo Ann and me, and later Martin.

And we're off!

By the way, safari huanza is swahili for: The Journey Begins!

Excitement

I can't sleep. This isn't good. I recall Marc Tassie mentioning to me that he was pretty much exhausted just before his Kilimanjaro attempt back in 2005 and he attributed that as one of the primary causes to his failing to adjust to the altitude. The photos of Marc during the briefing by Tusker Trail (the guide company) show him to be very tired indeed. So now I'm in this viscous circle of finding myself laying awake thinking about how important it is for me to be asleep!!! Arggg!

Stephen & Amélie left a few days ago - as I should have! I'm angry with myself that after having given Stephen the advice to leave a couple of days earlier to allow his body to adjust to the time difference, I didn't follow that same advice!! Arggg again! Kevin is also already in Africa as he had CARE business to attend to prior to the climb. Ramona is in the UK and will have but a couple of hours to adjust. Martin, Jo Ann and I will travel - and suffer - together! At least I shan't be alone! Actually, I'm pretty happy that we'll be travelling together. It just makes things a little more convenient when someone can watch over your things whilst changing planes in a foreign land. We'll have a head start on the melding of our group dynamic!

It's pretty amazing to think that I'll be in Africa in just a couple of days! I've been following a group of Welsh Women who started the climb a couple of days ago and this is just adding to my excitement.

And I wonder why I can't sleep . . .

Disappointment

I've now been out for two small hikes with my new Arcteryx shell. It really is fantastic at cutting the cold wind. However, I'm also really disappointed that we ended up with the shorter cut of the Alpine styling. It really is wrong for what we're about to do and I feel we've probably wasted a fair chunk of change on these jackets (I think five of us bought into this deal). The jacket is cut short to allow for greater mobility when climbing up rock faces and such. The trip to Kili is more of a hike and so the hikers version of the jacket is what was needed. My jacket doesn't cover the bottom of any of my inner layer clothing and I find myself constantly tugging and pulling on the shell to cover over the inner layers. In a driving rain, the inner layers will get wet. No doubt about it. They'll probably wick the rain water further up under the shell. It is totally impractical to tuck the inner layers into the rain pants as this will limit mobility. We would have been better off to take the money and buy the lesser brand offered by MEC.

Just to further add to my disappointment list, I received an order I placed from a UK firm called Craighoppers. They had a post-Christmas sale of 40% off. Initially I was delighted to not only have the shirt and trousers arrive so quickly, but also at the apparent high quality of the items. Then I tried them on. Well, the shirt was too big and the trousers too small! How can this be? I followed their sizing charts exactly! I took out a measuring tape and discovered the problem: they can't measure. The size 36 trousers were, in fact, size 35. (Actually they were a 34 3/4".) The shirt was so huge that Mae West would have no problem with it. I rang them up and their answer is to return for a full credit - but not of my shipping. They no longer have stock of the sizes I really needed and I would have to re-order in February when new stock arrived AND I'd have to pay the full new stock price!! Hmmmm. Pissed-off is a good set of words to describe how I feel. For some reason I have to pay for their mistake. No apologies offered. I wrote them a firm email describing these feelings. We'll see what transpires.

Team Meeting

We had our first full Team Meeting yesterday at the CARE Canada office in Ottawa. While it was good to meet everyone face-to-face I already knew all the members thanks to Facebook. We were easily able to get along instantly. I think we have a really good group and will have an enjoyable hike.

There were a few others at the meeting who are considering joining the CARE Kili climb for 2011. Also in attendance were several CARE staff who have already done Kilimanjaro and they were extremely useful in answering our myriad of questions. A reporter from Metro News asked a few questions and took this photo of the Ottawa area climbers. (The reporter was only interested in the local climbers. This turned out to be a big mistake as the story was picked up nation-wide. The photo I've attached here came from the Vancouver Metro.) It makes me realise that we missed a great opportunity for a full group photograph before we start the trip. We have to start thinking ahead!

1st of the two summits achieved!

This project all started when I attended the CARE presentation at the Lord Elgin Hotel in Ottawa 'way back. It seems so long ago I can barely remember (although it was but 2-months). I recall saying that evening to CARE's Andrea Seymour that I felt there were two peaks to climb: Kilimanjaro and the raising of the $5,000. I spent many a sleepless night wondering how I was going to accomplish this. My wife, Pina, first came up with the concept of contacting Connie Johnston about holding a Trivia Night at our local pub. Much later, I was on one of my afternoon village walks and noticed my old friend Edna Robinson unlocking the door of the pub and I thought I'd go in and say "hi" and have a beer (she usually wasn't open during my walks). We started having a chat about old times and asked me what I was up to lately and I mentioned the Kili climb. Edna then suggested contacting Connie and holding a fund raiser. Wow! I had actually forgotten about Pina's suggestion and now Edna brought it up. We were on! From that afternoon I spent a *lot* of time on the phone, sending emails and visiting local businesses coordinating the Trivia Night. Pina said she would donate paintings for the auction. Local artists Stephanie Wellman and Paul Schibli also volunteered work to be auctioned. Wow! The ball was really rolling. Local businesses were fantastic in bringing forth auction items: really great stuff was to be had! Our incredible village doctor, Gerry Heymans, bought two pieces of Paul Schibli's work and donated them to the auction! Pina's friend, Diane Ceponkus brought over two wonderful gift baskets to add to the pile. With all of this outpouring, and the number people contacting me, I knew we were in for a great night.

And what a night it was! Both Connie and Edna each snuck in two extra teams bringing our total number of competing trivia teams to twenty! Two more than the maximum 18! As the start time approached we sadly had to turn away two more teams that showed up without registering. Connie Johnston had things really rolling with her fun & challenging and sometimes downright difficult trivia questions. Terry Sametz did a fantastic job as auctioneer squeezing every dollar he could from each and every item. Edna & Terry Robinson's staff at the Russell House were so smooth at their delivery everyone kept focused on the evenings events.

There is so many people to thank for this great success, but the ones I want to thank most are the wonderful people who turned out at the Russell House this past Saturday and supported the event. The evening brought in:

$4,255!!!

I'm off to the bank this morning to deposit this and together with the $1,185 that I have already entered as my contribution to the climb, brings my total to $5,440! Hurray! I've completed my first summit!

Unbelievable!

The byline says it all: Unbelievable! I'm absolutely amazed at the outpouring of support I'm receiving from the local community for the Trivia Night & Art Auction I'm holding tomorrow night. A week ago I was really worried as I had only 3-teams signed up and just Pina's paintings for the auction. Today I'm scrambling to keep up with all the auction items and wondering how to put them all into 'lots' to limit the total number of items to 25!! I've a full house of 18-teams of 6-players each and may have to turn people away at the door. Its amazing! What great people and fantastic businesses we have in this community. I'm proud to live here! I think we're going to have a fantastic evening tomorrow night!

Sadly, though, because of the devastating earthquake that struck Haiti, we'll be redirecting all of the funds that I'm raising in Climb for CARE 2010 that were originally to go to the CARE Springboard Project in Ethiopia, instead will go to CARE's efforts in Port-au-Prince. While the need in Bahir Dar, Ethiopia is great, it is felt that lives can be saved in Haiti.

Another fantastic day in the hills!

I had a fantastic day of hiking up on the Eardley Escarpment with Rosemary & Marc yesterday. The morning started 'crisp' at about -20C but it warmed up to a nice and toasty -10C by days end.

The views from the ridge were spectacular as it seems that it had snowed during the week - at least on one side of the hill - as the trees were heavily laden with snow and a thin layer of ice. The forest was alive with cracking branches and falling ice.

Our morning started with a brunch at Nate's as I had to first drop off a painting for Pina at the Ottawa Little Theatre Gallery. We did the Wolf Trail in our usual time and Rose took some really great photos along the way with my cantankerous new little camera. In spite of this being a snowshoe trail, all the snowshoe trod hikers ahead of us had packed the trail down quite nicely and we were easily able to complete the hike with our normal trail footwear. My new Zamberlans are still fantastic! Excellent grip and more than adequately warm. My feet weren't overheated nor were they ever cold. Just right! I do need my new shell, though. Pronto! This one just doesn't breathe properly and I was laden with sweat. I wasn't cold, as I was wearing a woolen commando sweater, and wool retains the body heat even when soaked through. However, had I stopped walking at all, I imagine I would have started to cool off rapidly. As it was, I was quite warm enough the whole day. My new Arcteryx shell is on order!

I'm starting to get excited with the Kilimanjaro climb only a couple of weeks away! The fund raising Trivia Night & Art Auction is coming together nicely with almost all the tables filled and the local businesses have come through with some great prizes! It'll be a fun night and I'm sure we'll raise lots of money for CARE!

Trivia Night is On!

Thanks to Connie Johnston's expertise the Trivia Night is all set! Hosted by Edna & Terry Robinson at the Russell House on Saturday, January 16th.

I've got quite a few chores to do to ensure the night is a success. I wanted to wait until the commotion of the holiday season had passed before pushing this on people and so I started in earnest this morning. Of course, the first 3-people I tried to contact were unreachable! One no longer worked at that location (of course without leaving any new contact details), one the phone number no longer worked as the office had moved (with no update yet available on the Internet) and the other just isn't answering! A rather cool start to what I had hoped would be a busy, hopping morning! Maybe I should head off to the gym and get in a workout and start again this afternoon on a fresh start . . .

This past weekend I was in contact with Martin Coulombe from Québec City. Martin is in the Kili climbing group and seems to be a keen hiker. He invited me to join him on a training hike on Mt. Washington on January 16th. Of course, that's the date of the fund raiser!! I suspect that when the Kili hike is over that I'll be joining Martin a few times for other hikes. Looking at the photos on his Facebook page, they appear to be a lot of fun.

I've created a personal equipment list and I'm pretty much on track. Just missing a hard shell that I'm hoping to pick up in the next week or so. Rosemary (from CARE) wants to have a group meeting at her Ottawa office so that we can get to know each other and ensure we're all ready for this adventure. Martin tells me this is going to happen on January 18th. A good date and I'll hopefully have some good news to report from the Trivia Night.

Raising money isn't that easy. Certainly, I think I'd have a better chance if I was still working as I had a lot of business contacts in those days. Being the hi-tech trade, many of my former contacts have moved on and have proven difficult to track. Had I still been in the industry, I would have kept tabs on everyone. As it is, I've pretty much obliterated it all from my memory!!