There Is Only Me (And the Mountain)

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Only…

Only…

Po-le (Slowly)…

Po-le (Slowly)…

Yep, Team, I am down from Kilimanjaro.

My legs hurt like hell. I can barely walk down steps. Strangely, going up was much easier on my muscles. They only started hurting when I came down.

So, for a soundtrack to this email. You can listen to the songs that were in my head for almost the whole trip. I had a lot of time for them there since it was only me and my awesome guide Wilson (“Wilson! Wilson!” says Tom Hanks in Castaway. I kept thinking about that the whole time).

The songs would be:

“Only” by Nine Inch Nails (surprised there’s a NIN song in the bunch? :)

“Getting Closer” by Nitzereb

“Be Good To Yourself” by Journey

and “Kyrie” by Mr. Mister

(yeah, the 80’s are coming back).

ONLY…

So, it’s just me and my guide. Wilson is a 61 year old former science teacher who has climbed the mountain for 20 years. (Dad, get off your bum and go climb a mountain! There are people older than you going to the top of this thing. :) He did fantastic preparation for me and my hypoglycemic needs. He made sure there was meat for all the meals and had the right food for me. Which is great since on the Inca trail (my next biggest trekking experience) I was not given the right food at all and there were some problems. Not so here, he took care of me, was very informed, smart, fun to talk to. He would say things like, “You know your body. I can’t know your body”. and “If the Big Boss says we can make it, we’ll make it”.

The only problem was that it was only me. No other clients. So we were just me and him most of the days. And at meals I didn’t have a group to talk to. Eventually it starts to get lonely. I would try to socialize, and would here and there. But it wasn’t like I was IN THIS TOGETHER with someone else. As a result, as one day turned to two turned to four and more it started to become difficult.

GETTING CLOSER…

Because hiking 30 miles each way from 6,400 feet up to 19,300 feet is one tough bastard of a thing to do! Holy cow.

“One step

Two Step

Getting Closer,

Getting Closer

Let them believe me…

I’ve got to say that it HURTS” — Nitzereb

The scenery is fantastic! It goes from cultivated farmland (before the trail starts), to tropical rain forest (like in Uganda), to Moorland (like in England except at 10,000 feet! often cloudy and misty), to arctic desert (because you are above most of the clouds! Like an island in the sky!) to Glacial Ice Cap (which is like the moon…with some ice:)

I have so many pictures.

The peak of Kilimanjaro is called UHURU. There are other points, like Mawenzi, to look at along the way.

I took the Marangu route, which meant that I had huts to sleep in at night. This was good because the first two huts had four beds in them. Night 1, I was by myself! (which is good for sleeping, bad for socializing). Night 2 was with a German couple (who asked about Obama), and a fellow named Jose from “the Basque country” of Spain. He was trying for his second time. He had attempted 25 years ago and not made the top, and was back to kick it’s bootay. (I don’t know if he made it).

The last night before the climb is at Kibo hut… more on that in a bit.

At Hirombo hut I saw the mother of all sunsets. No exaggeration, maybe the most beautiful, if not in the top 5 sunsets of all time. We were above one set of clouds, below another and there was a cloud that looked like a mountain peak in between. The top clouds were dark, the bottom light, the middle glowing like gold. Absolutely breathtaking.

So I was on a 6 day trek, that somehow became 5 days. I felt fine at Hirombo hut (hut number 2) at 12,700 feet. So Wilson said lets keep going. He’s seen people not make it in 6 or 7 or 8 days, so if you feel well, best to keep moving. So we did.

I actually didn’t have much problem breathing and my oxygen level (he had a little gadget that checked it and my heartbeat), was high, so off we went.

The Alpine Desert was amazing. The peak dome looming across a rocky landscape. Clouds surrounding and below us. It was like walking in the sky. Awesome.

Just put one foot in front of the other. 5 to 7 to 18 HOURS in a day. (The 18 on the summit day). Getting Closer…

BE GOOD TO YOURSELF

So Kibo hut is at 15,650 feet.

Higher than I’d ever been before.

Unlike the other huts it was actually just one building. All the others were A-frame huts with beds in them and a separate dining hall. Hirombo hut could sleep 150 people. So more like a camp than a “hut”.

Kibo hut had 5 rooms, 14 beds a room.

I got there at 2pm. Tried to eat, but couldn’t eat much. And laid down for a nap as a huge group of retired Japanese tourists were getting ready.

Then I started to feel nauseous…

…Oh shit.

I rushed outside and puked up my lunch.

…Oh shit.

So I found Wilson, told him and he said “Do you feel better? Then that’s good. Is okay to throw up, as long as it’s just food and not blood”.

Great. :)

So I walk back to the hut and no less than 3 people were puking outside the door. And I got inside and there was puke on the hallway floor and puke in the doorway to the room I was in.

Fantastically unsavory to say the least. (What was more unsavory is the puke was there all night long.)

So at 5pm I have dinner…. or what little I could eat.

…Oh shit. Mr. Hypoglycemia isn’t able to eat. I have an 8 km hike to do. It’s 4000 FEET! up ’til the summit. It takes 7-8 hours up. 5-6 hours back to Kibo hut. Then another 4 hours hike back down to Hirombo hut. And I can’t eat.

…oh shit.

So I’m starting to lose it. I have no one to talk to, I’m getting bummed out, and frankly a little scared. If I pass out on the side of that mountain, Wilson and my summit porter, Roman, will have to carry my ass off that mountain. Let alone the other possible consequences if they can’t…

So what to do?

Wilson says sleep, see how I feel in the morning.

The morning is 2AM. That’s my wake-up. Other people get up at 10:30PM or midnight. Yes, most of your vertical hike is in the dark. They say it’s “easier” cause you can’t see how far you have to go. I say it’s fucking retarded because it’s cold and demoralizing.

I sleep, I dream. I try to stay positive. But I have no food, and anyone who knows me knows that without food I am anything but positive.

…Oh shit.

So I’m up at 1am. Everyone else is gone. It’s about 30 degrees INSIDE the hut (but actually not much colder outside.) Wilson says we are lucky, it can be a lot colder than this.

I try to eat. 2 crackers and some Milo in 30 minutes.

Shit.

I don’t think I can do it. I’m a wreck. I’m so tired and sore. And I have no energy. I think about going down. Screw it, I’ll just go down, it’ll be easier.

But then I thought about THREE O’CLOCK HIGH, the movie. (Funny what comes to your mind).

In that movie our hero has been trying to avoid a fight after school with the school bully. Doing anything he can to get out of it. In the end he offers to pay the bully money to leave him alone. The bully takes it but says this. “You’re the biggest pussy I ever met. You didn’t even try. How does that feel?”

After some soul searching, our hero comes back and says “I’m no pussy, asshole. Fight’s on at three”.

Fight’s on at three tonight, too. I tell Wilson how I’m feeling, the situation, and off we go into the night.

KYRIE

But first we take hands beneath the starry sky and Wilson prays for us, for a safe climb, to see the wonders of God’s creation, the great mountain Kilimanjaro.

Tears came to my eyes.

Here we go….

Po-le, Po-le.

That’s what they say here. Slow-ly, Slowly. And we go SLOOOOWWWWWW.

I mean, each step is careful and slow. Maybe 10 steps a minute. Maybe less.

We head up and up and after about 15 minutes, maybe 30 minutes, I have to stop and try to eat.

I can’t eat but a bit of chicken.

We head up…

Stars stretch forever. Including stars from the headlamps far above on the mountain. I mean FAR above on the mountain.

15, maybe 30 minutes later, maybe 5… I have to stop and eat.

I sit, I eat… and almost fall asleep sitting up. (Devin, Vanessah, Lawrence… you might remember this situation from the Anasazi Death March in the Grand Canyon 10 years ago).

We head up…

10 min, 20, 30 later. I don’t know… I sit again.

I can’t eat. I can’t FUCKING EAT!

I take a bite of beef, try a sip of drink, and puke up nothing cause there’s nothing to puke up.

But that is it.

Third time’s a charm.

At 16,300 feet in the dark on the side of Mount Kilimanjaro my attempt is done.

I can’t fucking eat.

And unlike the normal non-hypoglycemic person, if I don’t eat, I can’t just push on.

My body has betrayed me.

And the climb is over…

I tell Wilson. He isn’t going to push me. “You know your body.” And I sit there as the sun starts to glow on the horizon behind Mawenzi peak. It grows brighter and brighter and brighter until it breaches the clouds and blasts us with light. It’s amazingly beautiful and as disappointed as I am I know I have made the right choice. It sucks cause I wanted to stand on top of this mountain so badly, but as the Stones say, “You can’t always get what you want”.

So I spend about an hour there. As the sun came up, taking pictures and some video. Watching the brilliantly bright sun go up over the Alpine desert and the clouds below. It was like being in heaven (Hi Mom!, nice to see you up here on the mountain.:)

….

Turns out I was about 200 feet below Anderson Point. I looked past the rock and Wilson said that that was 16,500 feet. I said, “Let’s get there”. Truth is, with the sun up it was easier to climb, and I thought maybe I’d given up too easily. Wimped out.

But I hadn’t. Once we started up it quickly leapt back at me that I had no energy.

No fuel.

But we did make 16,500.

There is literally a painted mark and sign that says “Anderson Point. 16,500 feet”.

So that’s my highest yet.

And that’s pretty cool.

ONLY AGAIN

Heading down the mountain.

2 1/2 hours to get up. 30 minutes to get down to the hut again.

I try to eat.

I’m done.

But we have 4 more hours of hiking to get back to Hirombo Hut.

And people are starting to return from the summit.

I want to get out of here. I don’t want to talk to anyone.

So we head off, the wind is blowing. The clouds are beautiful.

My mood is shit.

And as we go down, the “walk of shame” begins. Because we began to pass all the people I had met briefly on the way up. Those who were coming for their next day summit attempt. And every single one of them asked “Did you make the summit?” And I had to explain over and over, as Wilson would speak in Swahili to the guides and porters about how “I had enough food, but couldn’t eat and my body is hypoglycemic and had no fuel, blah blah fucking blah”

It sucked.

The hike was SO hard and SO long (I can only imagine the people who actually did the full summit hike and then had to walk this).

When we finally got to Hirombo at 1pm I ate and slept until 5pm.

Woke up, ate (alone again, next to the retired Japanese climbing group. 5 of the 6 of them made it. Great. Just great). And watched a cloudy night come in.

My mood jumped all over the place. I was able to eat better now and my oxygen level at 12,500 feet was 98 percent, which meant I was totally acclimatized to this altitude. I have no idea what happened up above. One minute I would say it’s worth it, I’m going to find out a powder or pill so this doesn’t happen again at this altitude. So I don’ t have to stop because I can’t eat, I’ll be able to push on. Then the next minute I would be pissed off and depressed that 60 year olds can climb this and I couldn’t.

Couldn’t find anyone to talk to.

Listened to some good old Nine Inch Nails on my iPod. Felt better.

Went to bed late… it was about 8pm. :)

JOURNEY

The final day came. And I sat and talked with two gals I had met briefly on the way up. One from South Africa, and the other from Orange County, California. They said I have climbed Kilimanjaro. I’ve trekked 5 days. I’ve seen the views. They spent less than 3 minutes at the top. The top is not the mountain. I should be proud.

The walk down was LONG. 14 miles. Yahoo. My legs decided to get painful. And now that I’m back I can barely walk. I listened to my iPod on the way down, and that made it go much faster. Some NIN, a lot of Journey, some Genesis, and Metallica. Kept me walking. Felt good. Wish I would have listened to something besides the songs and voices in my head on the way up. I’m a people person and though I like to be alone, being alone on a trip like this is very difficult.

Alone Craig? What about your guide? Yes, Wilson rules. But he is working, and it’s not the same as being with someone else in the situation. Perhaps the last song should be “We’re in this together now!” by Nine Inch Nails. But it wasn’t.

As it went on, and I realized that with tip and rentals this has cost me $1350 for 5 days (instead of 6, I probably wont’ get any money back even though we were on the mountain one less day), I couldn’t decide if it was worth it. It’s pretty miserable, yet pretty amazing. It’s painful and exhausting, yet awe inspiring. And monotonous… this was twice as long as my previous mega trek, the Inca trail, and in only one more day. And at thousands of feet more elevation.

While up there 3 people were brought down on these stretchers. I saw none of them. One guy, they said his lips were totally blue and he wasn’t moving.

Kilimanjaro is no joke. The routes are hard. The timing is far too short. These should be 8, 9, 10 day treks with half the elevation gain each day. People die on this mountain. Probably too many. It’s only 19,000+ feet. It’s not even to the death zone (26,000 feet). Not even CLOSE. So we “know” the risk (hardly, not until we’ve done it), and yet people do it anyway. To get to the “roof of Africa”, to get to their own inner limits, to see God on his terms.

Is it worth it?

Exhausted, hungry, filthy, I said “thank you and goodbye” to my four porters and Wilson in the parking lot. The smiles on their faces as I said thank you and offered a tip were large. These guys work harder than almost any of us. They trudge so much weight up that mountain on their heads and backs, and you can see them struggle. But in the end, they’ve got smiles on their faces. A “Jambo!” (“Hello” in Swahili) on their lips, and a spirit that so many people I know in the more “civilized” world don’t even know they have inside them. If I ever think my life is hard and my work is hard I’m going to think of my crew and chill out. How we face life is what matters, the rest is just circumstance.

Is it worth it?

After saying thank you. Wilson got the guys together and they sang me the Kilimanjaro Song. They clapped their hands. Wilson did a little foot stomping dance and they wished me safe journeys. (I asked them to do “take two” since my memory card ran out of space and I wanted to record it. :)( Always the filmmaker). But the truth is I wanted to hear it again. Because hearing them sing and dance about this mother of a mountain, to see the smiles on their faces and the spring in their step after all that work; to shake their hands and look them in the eyes; to see Kilimanjaro vanish into the clouds, I think that answers the question for me.

CraigO

PS: If you’d like to watch a video / photo diary of this adventure, goto www.TrespassingOnTheLot.com, it’s called “There Is Only Me (And The Mountain)”

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