The Four Best Friends That Anyone Could Ever Have

When I travel I tend to think of people that I meet as Single Serving Friends.  I’ve actually considered writing a book by that title.  The reason I refer to them as Single Serving Friends is because I often meet people while I’m travelling, spend a few days with them, have a great time, and then never see or hear from them again.  It’s really just the nature of travel.  I expect the three guys who were part of my AF group during the Kilimanjaro trek will be Single Serving Friends, but for one week, we were the four best friends in the whole wide world.

Have you ever seen the movie, The Hangover?  If you haven’t the premise is that this guy is about to get married so his two best friends decide to take him to Vegas for a bachelor party.  In an effort to bond with his future brother-in-law, the groom brings along his fiancé’s brother as well.  Once they get to Las Vegas everything that could possibly go wrong does; they get arrested, they steal Mike Tyson’s tiger, the responsible dentist marries a stripper, and they lose the groom.  At the end of the movie the goofy brother-in-law sings a song about how they are the Four Best Friends that Anyone Could Ever Have.  On our last night together Rod, Matt, Tom and I were joking about how the four of us mimicked the characters from The Hangover.

I was obviously the groom because in the movie the groom misses his own bachelor party, and here on Kilimanjaro, I missed the summit.  Tom was the brother-in-law because in the movie the brother-in-law slipped roofies (or ecstasy, I forget) into the drinks of the other three.  This analogy was the funniest because Tom is a vegan, so he was always offering people papaya pills (gives you energy) or spirulina tablets (helps with altitude sickness) or some other vegan remedy to keep you healthy.  We all learned a lot about veganism during this trip.  Matt was the responsible dentist because on our trip he was just that, the voice of reason, and very responsible.  And Rod was Bradley Cooper, because he is tall and funny.

Though we didn’t have the same challenges as the characters in the movie we had our own unique experience which brought us together, most specifically the 8 members of the NSA, who we tolerated through gritted teeth (and then commiserated with one another about in private).  I can’t imagine having done Kilimanjaro with anyone else.  I will miss them very much.  Considering we started off four strangers, all from different continents, we couldn’t have gotten along any better.

The Awesome Foursome- Matt (South Africa), Tom (Israel), Kelly (USA), Rod (Australia):

Why Do We Climb at Night?

On each of the seven days of our Kili climb we hiked for a minimum of six hours.  As I said in a previous post, I forgot to keep notes, but if I remember correctly this was the rough schedule of our climb (I am confident most of these start/end times are correct):

Day 1- depart entry gate at 12:30pm, arrive camp 6pm

Day 2- depart 8am, arrive camp 2:30pm

Day 3- depart 8:30am, arrive camp 4pm

Day 4- depart 8:30am, arrive camp 3:30pm

Day 5 (Part A)- depart 8am, arrive camp 12pm

Day 5 (Part B)- depart 11pm, hike all night until sunrise, keep hiking until you have had enough, and then return back to camp sometime on Day 6 between 7am and 10am

Day 6- return from hiking through the night on Day 5, sleep a few hours, then depart 2:30pm, arrive camp 4:30pm

Day 7- depart 7am, arrive exit gate at 1pm

During one of our evening chats Tom and I wondered why it was necessary to attempt the summit at night.  Well, in the wee hours of the morning on Day 6 we found out: If people saw how far they had to go they would never make it.  It is a total head game.

On summit night I was so sick and miserable I couldn’t wait for it to be over.  It is hard to walk because you have so many layers on to stay warm and then you are trying to climb over huge rocks, many of which are slippery and icy.  And the wind seems to never end.  My dad coached both me and my brother in lacrosse when we were younger and the one thing he would constantly tell us was, “always keep your feet moving, never let them stop even if you are moving in place.”  I tried to repeat that to myself over and over again on that night.  I also thought about lots of other things.  I think I was slightly delirious at times, but I remember thinking about how I had to write a funny blog post about the freezing pain I was in at the time, how I was looking forward to moving home in a few weeks, and debating what color nail polish I should select when I got a long awaited manicure and pedicure as a reward for climbing Kilimanjaro.  I think the nail polish debate may have lasted a very long time: It’s summer in the U.S. so I will be wearing flip flops when I go back.  Maybe I should get red like I normally do, but splurge and add some flowers.  Or maybe I should go for a fun color.  Hey! Kelly! Remember that time you painted your toenails blue and then had N* in yellow for Navy when Tommy was playing lacrosse?  Maybe you could do that.  But if I got blue on my toes, what would I get on my fingers?  I didn’t say these were deep thoughts, simply thoughts which let me know my brain hadn’t frozen.

In the end I did not reach the summit.  I turned back about 400 meters short of the peak (so I climbed 94% of Kilimanjaro- but I am a professor after all and that equals a grade of an A).  I cried as I made the decision to turn around, but it really was the best choice for me.  I had been incredibly dizzy and my depth perception was completely messed up so I was tripping and having a very hard time keeping my balance.  On top of that it was blizzard like conditions and my energy was zapped.  Initially I was disappointed, but the next day when I heard there were six evacuations off the mountain and someone had died that night I was sure I had made a wise choice.

The one thing I will say about the guides is that they really know how to assess your condition and then give you just enough information to help you make the decision that is best for you.  My guide on summit night was Willie.  He kept checking my eyes and while he didn’t say anything to me about how I was doing, he knew.  When I was wavering about whether or not to turn back he told me, “IF you keep going and can’t make it then it will be difficult to get you off the mountain safely the higher we go.  And IF you do make it to the top we are going to have to bring you down in a stretcher.” As soon as I heard I would be brought down on a stretcher I decided to sacrifice my pride instead of my dignity.  I hiked back down on my own, I did not catch a ride in one of these:

The three AF boys all made it to the top and I am happy for them.  But none of them stayed more than five minutes and you couldn’t see a thing in their pictures.  So in a way I don’t really feel as if I missed out on too much in the end.

Porters and Personal Details

When you climb Mt. Kilimanjaro there are a number of memories you have which might not strike someone who hasn’t experienced the challenge as noteworthy.  But for us, there were a few details we will never forget.  For instance, meals.  I am quite confident I will never eat porridge again, and I am instituting a six month ban on soup.  Of course, ginger tea is a completely different story.  Every one of us loved it and mentioned we would almost certainly go home and make it again.

Sore body parts, for better or worse, were another poignant memory though I’m sure that isn’t a surprise to anyone.  But writing this several days after coming down the mountain, and the fact that it still hurts a little to walk, highlights the fact this was not a walk in the park.

I was particularly impressed by the porters.  While we were using walking sticks and specially made boots in an effort to keep ourselves upright the porters were carrying awkward, bulky loads on their backs and balancing other loads on their heads with ease.  The porters never used walking sticks or needed to hold their arms out for balance and many wore flip flops when the temperature was warm.  But there is nothing quite like a porter traffic jam.  On day 4 we had to climb Baranco Wall which includes the Kissing Rock.  The Kissing Rock gets its name from the fact that you literately have to press your entire body against the rock in order to not plunge over the side of a cliff.  I was in a near panic attack while traversing the Kissing Rock and had to have someone carry my backpack for me because I was afraid I might tip myself over.  But, the porters crossed Baranco Wall and the Kissing Rock as if it was no different from any other part of their normal duties.  Here is a view of a porter induced traffic jam, though in all honesty they move at twice the pace any of the climbers did:

And then here is a small glimpse of the Baranco Wall (not the super scary Kissing Rock):

One thing I won’t miss, but will always remember from Kilimanjaro were the nightly medical checks.  Each night the group would have dinner together and towards the end our head guide, Safiel, would come in, brief us on what we needed to know for our climb the following day, and then he would run through a medical questionnaire with each of us- in front of the rest of the group.  So in addition to the staff knowing: your oxygen level, pulse, if you had diarrhea, vomiting, nausea, headache, difficulty breathing, had peed in the last two hours, had a bowel movement in the past 24 hours, if you were taking Diamox (altitude sickness pills) and Melarone (malaria pills); all your fellow climbers were also up to speed on your bodily functions.

Ah memories.  Actually, there is one more which I can’t possibly forget.  On day 2, when I got separated from my group and wandered into camp late, I arrived to find Tom, the Israeli contingent from AF, sleeping on a rock.  I thought it was funny, so I took a picture.  Well, this started a trend, and a friendship.  After this first picture, Tom would often announce, “Ok Kelly, let’s go take some funny sleeping pictures.”  From that point forward we would select tents next to one another and often chat until we fell asleep.  The rest of the group got a big kick out of this and as Rod (the Australian AF member) said, we carried on like “twins in a bunk bed.”  I thought that was an accurate assessment because Tom reminded me of my little brother (also named Tom- Tommy actually) as they were the same age, had similar interests and were MASTERS at agitating me to no end.  Thank goodness my brother didn’t come on this trip as the two of them could have teamed up against me.  Here’s the inaugural sleeping picture.  Looks comfy, don’t you think?:

“Are You My Mother?”

When I packed my backpack for Kili I took a small notepad, because I figured I would write down important details along the way that I wanted to remember.  In the end I carried it all over the mountain and never once did I write anything.  So, based upon my potentially inaccurate memory I would estimate we hiked twenty-five (25) hours on day 1.  The tough part about day 1 was that when we arrived at camp it was freezing and raining, so it was practically impossible to get warm.  On day 2 I woke up feeling horrible; actually I woke up every day of the trip feeling like I was at death’s door; and debating how much I really wanted to continue.  But I rallied and started out with the group like nothing was amiss.

Day 2 started out really tough, but ended well.  Mt. Kilimanjaro is unique because it crosses over 5 different climatic zones.  On day 1 we hiked in the cultivated zone, and then day 2 was almost entirely rainforest.  A rainforest is called a rainforest for a reason: because it rains. A LOT.  In addition to the rain we were climbing very steep, slippery rock faces.  This picture does not represent the terrain well, but at one point there was a good 100 meters of nothing but nearly smooth rock going up at about a 60 degree angle.  It was terrifying.  Fortunately our guides were there to help tell us where to place our feet and lend a hand when we needed it.  Here is a view looking down the rock face:

And here is a photo looking up during the rainforest portion of our climb.  As you can see it was very misty:

The good thing though is that as you climb a mountain you get higher, meaning you eventually climb out of each climate zone. We ended day 2 in the heath and moorlands, so the final hour of our hike was actually very enjoyable.  In fact, by that point I was feeling much better about the whole situation and felt like I could have kept going.  As we began approaching camp I stopped to take come pictures; the group kept walking.  Here was one of the pics I was taking:

I could see camp and my group in front of me, so when I finished taking photos I followed, but quickly lost them as they were too far away.  The thing about wandering into camp is that there are tents everywhere.  And somehow they all look the same.  They are either orange or green.  When I open my Kilimanjaro climbing operation (haha, yeah, right!) we will have pink and purple tents so you can easily tell them apart from others.  I ended up wandering around from camp to camp for about 20 minutes asking people if they knew where the Hidden Valley Climbing Company had set up camp.  I felt like the little bird in the book Are You My Mother? as I went camp to camp asking, “Are you my friend?  Do you know me?  Do you know anyone who knows me?” Fortunately one of my guides found me and led me to our campsite.  I would have never found it otherwise.  It was a great location and we were secluded from the other tents at Shira Camp. This photo was taken from a ways away, but our tents are in the foreground and then all across the top of the picture you can see the 100+ tents of the other climbers on the ridge above our camp:

The best part was that we had a great unobstructed view.  This is not Kilimanjaro, this is the second highest peak in Tanzania: