AFIELD Climbing Mount Kilimanjaro

AFIELD

above the CLOUDS

Climbing Mount Kilimanjaro

words and photography by DAVID HOLDSTOCK

Ten months of preparation. A cargo bag full of expensive new outdoor equipment. Immunizations and medication to prevent yellow fever, malaria, typhoid, and altitude sickness. A farewell to my family in Raleigh, and I was off to that place Ernest Hemingway described as “where a man feels at home, outside of where he’s born, is where he’s meant to go.” As the Boeing 747 prepared for landing at Johannesburg’s O. R. Tambo International Airport, far above the clouds, I realized we were at 20,000 feet, the very same altitude I was hoping to reach later on foot, with nothing but a pair of good hiking boots and the hot Afr ican sun on my back. It was a romantic schoolboy adventure: To climb Kilimanjaro, the tallest fr eestanding, snow-covered mountain in the world, to reach the rooft op of Afr ica, to take in its commanding view of the open plains and savanna grasses of the Serengeti, to feel the rhythm and heartbeat of a continent that is said to be the cradle of civilization.

Ready to go

Given that, as I’m told, only 60 percent of hikers who attempt it reach the mountain’s summit, and that approximately 10 of them die every year fr om altitude-related sickness, my traveling companion and I knew we needed to fi nd a reputable company with the very best guide. We decided on Abercrombie & Kent, with its long history and focus on natural and ecological awareness. On Oct. 24, 2017, we met our hiking party, comprised of nine other hikers, one guide, four assistant guides, and an amazing 66 porters. Th e hikers were an interest-

‘MAJESTIC’

A view from the early days of the trek

… as I’m told, only 60 percent of hikers who attempt it reach the mountain’s summit, and approxmately 10 of them die every year ...

ing and eclectic group of strangers that included seven women and four men, ranging in age from 25 to 68. There was a group of four wonderfully funny and educated women from Miami Beach, whose combined skills helped everyone on the climb; a very happily married couple from Hampstead Heath, London, full of character and caring; a grandmother and her beautiful 22-year-old granddaughter from California; A Maserati-driving Las Vegas dentist with an infectious laugh; and my Carolina-educated business partner who had set this adventure in motion. Our guide, Dismass Mariki, a seasoned, local, good-looking 36-yearold African man, had a proclivity for checking and re-checking everything we consumed, and a reputation for professionalism, attention to detail, and an impressive 98-percent record of success helping hikers navigate to the summit. We’d need his help. Out of the seven established Kilimanjaro summit climbing routes, we’d chosen Machame, the more difficult, longer route at 62 kilometers, or 37 miles. It starts in the south and heads to the west side of the mountain, taking a sharp turn to the east, travelling under ice fields and then up to the summit from the southwest Barafu Base Camp. What I didn’t know then was that the first five days of the climb would be mostly prep work, designed to get each hiker ready for the journey’s final 30 hours. We all had a lot of acclimating to do. Each and every evening, after a long day’s hike, you could set your watch by the guide’s lectures on improving your blood oxygen levels using deep breathing techniques, the important daily need for hydration that included drinking 5 liters (10 pints) of water a day, the significance of sufficient daily calorie intake, and the right amount of Diamox medication for altitude sickness.

Th e climb

Day One, the rainfores t: Th e fi rst real challenge was the fi rst leg: an uphill, six-hour hike to the Machame Camp. It stood majestically, 10,000 feet above sea level. A classic heavy shower introduced us all to the rainforest as we trekked. Th is was the day you realized you were actually camping outdoors, and all clothing that got wet would stay wet. We forgot all about that, though, when we arrived at base camp to a wonderful surprise: a serenade by all 66 porters, who throughout the hike carried fr om base camp to base camp, day in and day out, absolutely everything we needed, including cots, tents, food, water, cooking equipment, toilets, and our 44-pound bags of clothes and equipment. Th ey sang a Swahili song of encouragement that included the words hakuna matata. Th is would continue at specifi c milestones throughout the hike and was much appreciated by all of us.

Day Two, supernatural mountain fog: Th e next day included waking up to a fr ost-covered tent and extreme cold. First, we hiked up a steep rocky outcrop for a few hours to Shira Plateau, at 12,500 feet. It was here we witnessed how quickly the “cloak and dagger” clouds of fog mysteriously rolled in and out. It reminded me of the fog shrouding the moors in Arthur Conan Doyle’s Th e Hound of the Bas kervilles. Th is was the day you started to perfect taking off layers of clothing and within an hour putting them back on again.

Day Th ree, a martian landscape: Day three was all about acclimating to high altitudes. First we had a very enjoyable six-hour walk across a Mars-type landscape to Barranco Camp, at 13,000 feet. Th en we trekked up to Lava Tower, which stood at a loft y altitude of 15,000 feet, for a lunch that included fr esh fr uit, hot coff ee, leek and potato soup, bread, and a vegetable pastry. And, as always at meal times, Francine, our French-born fellow hiker, had an abundance of rich chocolate to share. Th e height forced us all to face the very real possibility of headaches, lightheadedness, nosebleeds, and vomiting. Th e whole idea was to learn how it feels to go up to 15,000 feet

ASCENDING

Clockwise from top left: Approaching the “supernatural mountain fog” on day two; some of the 66 porters who carried hikers’ belongings throughout the journey; camping midway up the mountain; the “martian landscape” fi rst encountered on day three.