FIELD GUIDE

OTHERWORLDLY

This page, from left: The landscape on day three conjured Mars; approaching the summit; the pinnacle view from the top of Mount Kilimanjaro. and come back down to 13,000 feet. No dramatic eff ect was noted, apart fr om a few headaches.

Day Four, introduction to mountain climbing: Day four included a 5-hour morning hike and a climb to Karanga Camp, at 13,000 feet. We went down and up the valley sides. It was a diffi cult hike that included high knee lift s, loose rocks, and an uphill trail. We crossed streams and enjoyed the mountain vegetation, the Afr ican sun, and the brisk wind.

Day Five, balanced cairns: Th is was the day we reached a 15,800-foot-elevation plateau overlooking Barafu Camp. It was the last resting place before the “big one.” As I had hoped, the Afr ican sun was shining on my back. A Sapphire-gin-blue sky introduced us to the beauty of the mountain landscape. Th is was an emotional hike for us all, as the end was in sight. Previous hikers had created cairns, or balanced stacks of stones, in homage to the mountain. We arrived at our fi nal base camp at lunchtime. We were now prepared and ready for the fi nal 30-hour summit climb.

Th e Final 30-Hour Day, round trip to the summit: We established a base higher than expected to give us a leg up on the grueling 6-hour nighttime climb to get us up the southwest side of the mountain. Aft er a high-carbohydrate dinner of pasta and bread, at 6 p.m. we retired to our tents for rest and hopefully some deep sleep. I dozed off to the sound of gale force winds and the fl apping of the canvas of the partially zipped tented “toilet” doors. Th e wind was fi erce. Even fr om our sleeping bags, temperatures were noticeably dropping. We were, aft er all, nearly three-and-a-half miles up. We were woken at 11 p.m. for a breakfast of porridge, toast, and raspberry jam. We dressed in our sub-zero degree Gore-Tex clothing, and at 12:30 a.m., all 11 hikers, the head guide, and four assistant guides started the fi nal uphill hike. It was a clear, cloudless night with a Bible-black sky and brilliant stars, one of those nights that made you wish you had majored in astronomy. Th e moon had a piercing white center and fi ve concentric rings. We could see the Milky Way, the galaxy that contains our solar system, and 100 billion stars. Its dust lanes, nebulas, and star clusters arched across the night sky fr om the northeast to the

THE PEAK

This page, from left: David Holdstock and the entire “hiking party” he was part of, including nine other hikers, one guide, four assistant guides, and 66 porters; representing Raleigh at the peak.

south. It may have been the rarefi ed air, the elevation, or the isolation, but there was an undeniable feeling and a belief, as well as a sense and taste, of the infi nite and eternal. We set off on a slow, easy march uphill, a pallbearers’ pace that helped keep the team together. Each of us had a headlamp fi rmly positioned in the middle of the forehead which allowed us each to look down and shine a light at the heels of the hiker in fr ont of them. We moved as a team in step with each other. Starting the hike up the fi nal escarpment, I could see four other groups of hikers varying in size. At the top of the mountain, I could see the lights of the headlamps of the lead group. Temperatures continued to drop. At 3 a.m., the temperature reached a low of -6 degrees Celsius, or 21 degrees Fahrenheit. Sleet stung the uncovered parts of our faces. And then the Jim Lovell, Apollo 13 moment happened. Th e water in my CamelBak bladder started to crystalize and fr eeze. It started at the mouthpiece and slowly travelled down the pipe. I remember laughing and saying out loud “Houston, we have a problem.” It was a surreal moment for a man who lives at sea level and longs for the hot Carolina summers. My water tube, as well as those of the other 10 hikers’, was now out of commission. Th e guide had predicted such an event and was armed and ready with cups of water. At each rest stop, you were required to drink a large cup of water in a silver tin cup and consume four nonfr eezing-type sugar cookies. You could see the water in the tin cup fr eezing as you tilted it into the wind. At about 5 a.m., there were at least two requests fr om our team to turn around. We passed a group of hikers consoling a person who was visibly suff ering fr om altitude sickness. We continued the slow march uphill to the summit. Th e reverend sun rising at 6:15 a.m. gave us a new view of our objective and the strength and courage to go on: We could see the top of Kilimanjaro. It was within reaching distance. Th e air was noticeably thinner. Th e fr eezing temperatures had given way to a much milder morning air mass. “Congratulations, you are now at Stella Point” read a sign, but the actual summit was still 45 minutes away. Th e excitement was palpable. We continued to walk around what was clearly a dormant volcano, with its dark ash and crater-like shape. And there it was! Th e sign we had fl own 20 hours and hiked 62 kilometers through rainforest, desert, and arctic conditions to touch. “Congratulations. You are now at Uhuru Peak, Tanzania, 5895 Meters, 19,341 feet. Afr ica’s highest point. World’s highest fr ee-standing mountain.” It was worth all of the planning, preparation, and investment. Th e lure of Kilimanjaro, this “mountain of greatness,” had been too hard to resist. While there was no real physical life-changing experience, there was a sense of achievement. Th e outcome was more about fi nding out about your soul, and your sense and feeling for the immeasurable and the infi nite. It was more about the power of introspection and self-examination. Mount Kilimanjaro has the grace, power, and glory to do that, and also the ability to take your breath away.

by CC PARKER Coastal fun at family River Dunes VACATION

words and photographs by CC PARKER

WATERFRONT

Brown Parker, Hank Robinson, Caroline Johnson, and Bailey Parker enjoy Labor Day weekend at River Dunes in Oriental, N.C. Do you dream of time “off the grid”? Yearn for that special place to share a laugh, grill a steak, and have no worries beyond what to grill tomorrow? A place with spotty cell service; a place that supplies nicer sheets than you have at home? My family has found just the spot, not too far down the road, called River Dunes. River Dunes is a boating community nestled along a harbor off Broad Creek where the Neuse River meets the Pamlico Sound. This place takes you by surprise, in the best of ways. Here’s what you can expect.

Getting there

For those accustomed to travelling the well-worn trail Highway 70 East to Morehead City-Atlantic Beach, you’ll find veering left at New Bern onto US-17 is a completely different experience. This trek has sweeping views of New Bern and the Neuse River. After winding through many cornfields, a white pasture fence, and behind it friendly noshing horses, marks the River Dunes entrance. A quick stop at the registration cottage and you’re on your way. My husband jokes that I’m partial to “pretty,” and this place really is spectacular. A rambling drive meanders to the village and your first view is of River Dunes’ stunning marina and adjoining Harbor House. Built of reclaimed brick, the Harbor House is a

OFF THE GRID

Above, from left to right: CC Parker, Kirk Parker, David Liggett, and Ellen Liggett explore the Neuse River. Personal experience

stately two-story building smelling of beeswax and old wood, oozing first-class leisure. It houses the restaurant, a bar, pool tables, the Harbormaster’s office, and multiple screened-in porches with outdoor fireplaces. It serves as the heart of the community. The Atlanta-based architectural firm Historical Concepts spared no expense in creating an authentic coastal village in the tradition of nearby communities like New Bern. The place is imbued with a genteel grace and casual elegance. The adjoining pool area has everything you (or at least for my family and me) could want: a pool, covered bar, cabanas, a hot tub, two outdoor fireplaces, and a workout area. The view out to the marina reveals some impressive boats – some boats are there for the night, some are kept there year round. There are kayaks and paddleboards for guests to use, as well. Last Labor Day, my family joined two other families to celebrate at River Dunes. One family rented a large house on Main Street, but we opted instead to rent four “tiny houses” in the Grace Bay cottage enclave. Grace Bay, enclosed by a picket fence, is a charming area with a communal fire pit encircled by Adirondack chairs, a gas grill, and an oyster table. Each cottage is tiny but exactly what you need for a weekend stay. Equipped with a bedroom, a small kitchen – coffee provisions, plates, and a corkscrew – and a comfortable bathroom. Each front porch has a rocking chair and reading lamp, perfect for whiling away the evening. The porch is big enough, too, for morning coffee and evening cocktails (I recommend pulling up beer coolers to use as extra chairs). Everyone was happy during the Labor Day weekend. The group’s two 10-yearolds were constantly moving, returning

home only to change clothes for the pool, report a bicycle mishap, sneak out a bag of chips, or for a quick game on the PS4 while the teens slept. They ignored the discreet No fishing off the docks signs, and insisted that the Harbormaster didn’t mind. (I think this might be true, as River Dunes offers loaner rods for the little folk.) The fathers fished and napped. Worldclass red drum fishing makes this area a favorite destination at the end of summer. There is also excellent flounder and speckled trout fishing. The Marina sells the important stuff: gas, beer, ice, wine, and snacks. The Harbormaster is happy to connect guests to local captains, and boat slips are available for rent by the The Marina sells the important stuff: night, month, or annually. We gas, beer, ice, wine, and snacks. enjoyed several beautiful sunsets on our nightly booze cruise. The teens, I’m happy to report, were also content. Glad for extra space and our parental laid-back mentality, they really had a great time. The boys imported a PS4, and nothing fosters friendship like four big boys huddled around a 30-inch TV screen. The girls practiced their driving skills and requisitioned a pool cabana.