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?”
No comments:
Post a Comment