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.
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