Thursday, February 3, 2011
LINDA'S VIDEO OF OUR KILI CLIMB
The song "Kilimanjaro" was written and sung by my friends, Pat Humphries and Sandy O. In an amazing synchronicity, Pat and Sandy performed the song at Procter's Theatre in Schenctady on our summit night! Their music gave us a kind of psychic energy to continue climbing through the miserable weather. The porters and guides sing "Kilimanjaro" to us at 12,300 ft. Baraka starts to dance and calls for Chantel (a rugby player from England) and me to join him. So--I think this means we were initated into the Maasai warrior tribe! I hope you enjoy this video and it makes you feel as if you were there on Kilimanjaro with us!
Thursday, January 27, 2011
THE MIND BODY SPIRIT TRAIL UP KILIMANJARO
I wrote this piece for the local papers: it's a glimpse of our 7 days on the mountain last month
Up the Mind, Body, Spirit Trail on Mt. Kilimanjaro
Linda Anne Burtis
The sun had just come up over Africa. It was 6 am on December 10, and the temperature was 15 degrees. My husband, David and I were waking up from a cold, altitude-sick night at our high camp just below the summit of Mt. Kilimanjaro. A Tanzanian guide called from outside our tent and offered hot tea. His fellow guides had left at midnight to lead our teammates to the top. This guide told me his name was Deo Gratias. I said “Hello, Thanks Be to God.” He gave me a surprised grin. I told him that I recognized his name because the Latin Masses of my childhood ended with the congregation saying Deo Gratias.
Deo handed me a warm cup of tea. “Now I have something for you,” I said. I showed him my MP3 player, loaded up with African music, including the Missa Luba, a 1960’s version of the Mass sung Congolese style. In the thin air at dawn on that remote, steep mountainside, Deo heard the Kyrie for the first time. He sang it back to me in his wonderful Swahili accent. Suddenly it was okay that I had not stood on the top of Kilimanjaro—Deo and I were two people from different worlds making a deep connection on a different kind of summit.
My husband and I were climbing the high point of Africa as part of a special expedition to raise money for the Laureus Foundation. Laureus believes that sports can change the lives of kids in slums around the world. Our team included tennis legend, Martina Navratilova, German Paralympics’ cycling champion, Michael Teuber who was paralyzed below both knees and climbed using mechanical feet and British Olympic medalist, Gail Emms. We committed to raise about $3,000 each for Laureus programs from Nairobi to New York.
THE MOUNTAIN BECKONS
Our presence on this climb happened so effortlessly it seemed preordained. During Wimbledon last July, it was announced that Martina Navratilova was going to climb Mt. Kilimanjaro as part of a Charity Challenge. Martina is a long-time heroine. I had never met her, but as a tournament tennis player, I’ve competed against players who have played her. Also, thanks to my husband, we have both become world-wide trekkers, spending weeks hiking trails such as the one from Mt. Blanc to the Matterhorn. A spot on this climb would be an amazing fit with our tennis and hiking lives! I checked online and unbelievably, the expedition was not yet filled. My husband was game, so we signed up.
THE BODY
We had only 12 weeks to train, but with a summer and fall of fantastic, dry and sunny weather, our get-in-shape regimen was actually fun. We hiked every weekend—from the Catskills to the Adirondacks and the Berkshires. Hours in the woods gave us lots of opportunity to talk about how to approach our climb. We agreed to try it from a mind, body and spirit perspective. The body part was straightforward—we planned to get our 60-something physiques into the best shape we could. Hiking and biking were our mainstays, along with a diet of less sugar and more fruits and vegetables.
THE MIND
The mind piece got off on the wrong track. During our early hikes, I focused on everything but being in the woods. My mind kept imagining thoughts such as how long before we reached to the top, what I would eat at dinner after the hike, what questions I could ask Martina. But, something about Kilimanjaro was stirring inside. I started to enjoy the hours spent in the woods—the company of my husband, the smell of the fallen leaves, the sounds of the nearby streams and birds.
As a competitive tennis player I was familiar with the maxim “no pain no gain.” I imagined that Kilimanjaro would be a grind to the summit, never quitting and always trying harder. Again, something special was going on—it seemed amiss to approach the climb up one of the world’s seven summits this way. A friend suggested that the mountain would come to me. I fell in love with that cool notion! I knew it was still going to be one of the biggest challenges of my life, and I really, really wanted to reach the summit. But I was excited to try a relaxed outlook. If only I knew how important this new attitude would be as we experienced what Kilimanjaro had in store for us—I could have carried some big red reminder notes in my backpack.
THE SPIRIT
The spiritual perspective evolved as we trained harder. In the fall I read Eckhart Tolle’s book “The New Earth”. Tolle tells the story of a monk whose character was viciously attacked by many years of false accusations. The monk’s response to each new accusation was “I don’t mind what happens.” That concept of acceptance resonated and I tried it at every turn—“I don’t mind what happens,” I said, when my knee started to act up just as we were invited to join Martina for a publicity stairclimb in New York City. “I don’t mind what happens” became a mantra when the fund-raising for our charity slowed down, or when I worried about the million things that could go wrong as we prepared for this expedition. As it turned out, a million things did go wrong and I was going to learn a big lesson about acceptance.
AFRICA
On Friday evening, December 3rd, Dave and I joined the expedition team at Heathrow for the flight to Nairobi. Many flights in and out of England had been cancelled the day before due to an unusual snowstorm in London. Looking back on it, the strange weather in London was probably a sign of the strange weather to come during our climb.
We checked into our Nairobi hotel, and with little time to recover from jet lag, hopped in a van to visit the Mathare Youth Sports Association, meeting some of the kids who benefit from the Laureus Foundation. Sunday morning we flew to Mt. Kilimanjaro Airport in Tanzania. The skies were clear and we could see Kili from our plane. We imagined ourselves standing on the summit. In actuality, the summit would be invisible for the next six days and a number of us would not get to the top. Two vans took us on a long drive to our lodge at 6,000 ft. Another long, bouncy drive on dirt roads the next morning got us to our trailhead on the northern side of the mountain--the Rongai Route.
There were about 100 porters standing in small groups. On Kili Tanzanians must guide the climbs—a policy that benefits the local economy. Miki, our chief guide, had climbed to the top 200 times. His assistant guides had climbed the mountain between 20 and 80 times. It’s their job to keep close watch on us clients. From our first step on the trail, it’s clear that the guides are terrific--solicitous and smart. We learned about Tanzanian culture from them. I told one of the guides that we were traveling with some famous athletes, but I was just an ordinary person. Without missing a beat, he replied “no one is ordinary in their own families.” Unlike the rest of Africa, family is even more important to Tanzanians than their tribes.
. DAY 1 – 5: MIND, BODY & SPIRIT TRAINING PAYS OFF
The climb was 5 days up, 2 days down. The rain began about one hour after we started and continued almost non-stop for the next 7 days, changing to snow at the higher elevations. I was shivering by the time I climbed into my tent at the end of each day. The thunderstorms during the first night were ferocious and even knocked the mess tent down. Our tent floor got wet as did some of our gear, including a pair of thermal pants needed on summit night. My sleeping bag and mat got wet. Not a good sign.
The benefits of being in great shape were tangible. Dave and I were the old-timers on the team, but hiked strong. The guides called us Babu and Bibi, which is Swahili for grandfather and grandmother. As we steadily gained altitude I was always last in the group but didn’t feel physically out of my range.
It was great to have tried out those mental and spiritual practices. Along with the altitude, the deteriorating weather wore everyone down, but we had those fallback tools. Mentally, I would hike along in the present moment—hearing the birds, noticing the changing climate zones. Is it possible to feel good and miserable at the same time? That yin yang is just what happened. We hiked higher, hour after hour, through scenery that changed from heather to barren and arctic. Almost constant mist and fog meant we never saw Hemingway’s famous snow-capped peak.
Each day began with a prayer circle, which Nikos, an Olympian from Greece especially loved. Despite the ordeal of the weather and the increasing concern over Martina’s health as we saw her struggle more each day, I had a strong sense that all would be well. Even though I am a hard core trekker, I hate camping. The combination of rain, snow and cold made for a pretty rugged time. My husband and I were amazed at my unexpected cheerful attitude while squeezed in our tent between damp duffel bags, hiking poles and sleeping bags as the rain pounded us. Maybe the mountain heard our prayers and showered us with good feelings as well as rain? The kindness of the guides, who often carried our packs and our teammates, who shared their camping gear, was deeply touching. It seemed natural to hike these old paths and be moved to tears as the guides sang Swahili and Bob Marley songs for us.
NOTHING SHORT OF A MIRACLE
At 9,000 ft., on the first night in our tent, a potentially serious eye problem made me consider leaving the expedition. My symptoms were worrying and I needed help from every source I could think of. I reminded myself that I was meant to be on this expedition, and that all would be well. The miles passed quickly by as I meditated on taking in all the wishes for my safety from Bishop Hubbard’s blessing (even though I couldn’t remember the lovely way he said it), my friends and even the 5th graders I spoke to about Kili. Karen, a wise teammate from England, sat me down on a giant boulder and offered an energy healing. That was a tipping point and I knew my eyes would be okay. Upon arriving home, I was diagnosed with a retinal tear which required immediate surgery. A doctor told me “I was very lucky.” I believe there was more than luck going on. This was nothing short of a miracle. For seven days I lived Jesus’ words: “Whatever you ask in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours.”
The higher we climbed, the deeper became the camaraderie of our teammates. There is a Swahili word, Shikamoo, which means “May I touch your feet.” It is a term of respect that children use when greeting their elders. Shikamoo became the way we all treated one another and it had nothing to do with age. We struggled together, day and night, to stay warm and dry. Martina was the most miserable because she started the climb with a stomach bug. She couldn’t eat and we were worried about her. By the fourth night it was clear that she had HAPE - high altitude pulmonary edema. Six porters saved her life when they carried her down the mountain.
Four porters also had to descend with altitude sickness and another climber needed to be taken off the mountain on the way to summit camp. Mark, our leader, said that he had never led a climb, anywhere in the world, with such bad weather. It was hard not to feel unnerved. Dave and I felt strong and our altitude sickness was bearable. We slowly (“Pole, Pole” in Swahili) hiked towards Barrafu Camp at 15,300 ft. Our guide said we were looking good for our summit bid that night. For the millionth time, I visualized myself standing at the top.
Torrential rains turned to snow. For the first time, I felt seriously cold. One of the guides had run a few hours ahead to catch up to the cook and returned with hot soup. It warmed us to the core. I wished those energy bars I had left behind to save weight were in my pack. We were in a moonscape, headed to a remote headwall, climbing one steep pitch, only to see that there was yet another big ridge a long way off to be climbed. My legs were sore and we were thoroughly soaked. I began to consider the shocking thought that I would not bag the peak.
Barrafu Camp was on an exposed, steep slope covered with boulders. By the time the porters set up our tents, they were covered with fresh snow. At dinner, Mark said he considered canceling the summit bid. With much compassion, he offered everyone a chance to stop here. He explained that many people back home would not understand, but only we knew the true circumstances. I thought that most of the team would take up his offer. They didn’t, but Dave and I did. We were concerned about hypothermia. It was a relief to stay behind, but not totally. The top guides and leaders would take our team to the summit at midnight and be gone for 12 hours. We would be at the highest elevation we had ever experienced, with no one with medical training. We were very cold and a bit altitude sick when we climbed into our sleeping bags.
The storm stopped and the stars of the southern sky came out. At midnight, we heard everyone leaving for Uhuru Peak. About an hour later, in the cold, night air, I woke to singing. The guides were encouraging the climbers by serenading them! Two of the fittest climbers started to vomit and had to descend. The rest of the team crawled and suffered their way to the top.
I have lived my life by the principle that, if you try simply hard enough, you can succeed at anything. But now Mt. Kilimanjaro was teaching me another way—I had succeeded, even without standing at the summit. Deo Gratias.
TAX-DEDUCTIBLE DONATIONS TO LAUREUS SPORTS FOR GOOD CAN BE MADE ON MY BLOG: www.burtisandkilimanjaro.blogspot.com
Thursday, December 16, 2010
OUR PORTERS
The Kili summiters we spoke to before our climb told amazing tales of their porters. The theme was that they would not have made the summit without them. Our porters more than lived up to those expectations.
We had about 100 porters for our group of 32 clients. Porters fall into different groups starting with the younger ones who carry our food, tents, duffel bags, porta-johns, etc. Much of this gear is carried on their heads as they weave their way up steep trails! Assistant guides are next, followed by the cook (very imp.!) and the chief guide (Mickie--who climbed Kili over 200 times!)
Assistant guides have worked their way up from porters, have climbed Kili anywhere from 20-100 times. They are invaluable to us clients. As you climb, assistant guides walk beside you and start up very interesting conversations. They love to tell you the names of birds and plants, tell you to walk Pole Pole (slowly, slowly) and learn about your country. Baraka (think Barack Obama), a tall, elegant Maasi Warrior and Alpha (brother is named Omega!) usually walked with me. They patiently taught me Swahili words. They asked questions about the US and George Bush (they didn't like him).
The kindness of the guides and porters moved me to tears many times, especially as the rain made our climb so difficult. When the rain first began, Alpha opened my back pack, took out my rainpants, helped me put them on and zip up properly. He double-checked things, such as making sure my camera stayed dry. Tuesday night we arrived late in camp and I was trying to figure out how to sleep on a wet mat. A porter offered to take off his jacket and put it down on the mat for the night! He even offered to switch his dry mat for my wet one! He was willing to be wet, while I stayed dry. In the end, I used Dave's space blanket between my mat and sleeping bag--but what amazing generosity!
It gets better. On the 2nd day, I started out with Martina, where we had a fascinating chat as we climbed. After an hour or so, I was winded at her pace and dropped to the back. Alpha was suddenly there to encourage me, checked the weight of my pack and took out about 1/2 of what I was carrying, plus my 2 water bottles. This happened day after day, until finally on the last day, my guide carried my entire pack, while another carried Dave's pack. The guides helped you up/down the steep scrambles and for the summiters, they literally kept you standing as you stumbled from the altitude. They loved to sing to you as we climbed--Swhahili songs, but even more, Bob Marley songs.
They had a positive attitude and reminded you that would would make it to the summit. Friday was my hardest day. Martina had been rescued during the night and Denise had to descent with altitude sickness. We climbed to 15,300 ft from Horombu Camp to Barrafu. The snowstorm was especially bad. The walk was meant to be 5 hours, but it took Dave and me 7 hours, climbing two steep, high ridges. We were all getting pretty cold and soaked. A porter ran ahead to the cook and returned with cups and a thermos of soup! The warmth of that soup kept us going another 2-3 hours! Baraka kept telling me he knew I was climbing strong and would summit. He emphasized that I had no symptoms of altitude sickness and would definitely make it that night.
So--the porters and guides are special. It's easy to give them gear when you are done. Dave and I dropped our down jackets into the gear bag, plus my gaiters, my MP3player and my watch.
Dave and I were in our tent at midnight on summit night when our group left for the top. We could hear the guides singing loudly and happily as a way to encourage the summit team all the way to the top! These guys are the ultimate positive psychologists!
still exhausted,
Linda
We had about 100 porters for our group of 32 clients. Porters fall into different groups starting with the younger ones who carry our food, tents, duffel bags, porta-johns, etc. Much of this gear is carried on their heads as they weave their way up steep trails! Assistant guides are next, followed by the cook (very imp.!) and the chief guide (Mickie--who climbed Kili over 200 times!)
Assistant guides have worked their way up from porters, have climbed Kili anywhere from 20-100 times. They are invaluable to us clients. As you climb, assistant guides walk beside you and start up very interesting conversations. They love to tell you the names of birds and plants, tell you to walk Pole Pole (slowly, slowly) and learn about your country. Baraka (think Barack Obama), a tall, elegant Maasi Warrior and Alpha (brother is named Omega!) usually walked with me. They patiently taught me Swahili words. They asked questions about the US and George Bush (they didn't like him).
The kindness of the guides and porters moved me to tears many times, especially as the rain made our climb so difficult. When the rain first began, Alpha opened my back pack, took out my rainpants, helped me put them on and zip up properly. He double-checked things, such as making sure my camera stayed dry. Tuesday night we arrived late in camp and I was trying to figure out how to sleep on a wet mat. A porter offered to take off his jacket and put it down on the mat for the night! He even offered to switch his dry mat for my wet one! He was willing to be wet, while I stayed dry. In the end, I used Dave's space blanket between my mat and sleeping bag--but what amazing generosity!
It gets better. On the 2nd day, I started out with Martina, where we had a fascinating chat as we climbed. After an hour or so, I was winded at her pace and dropped to the back. Alpha was suddenly there to encourage me, checked the weight of my pack and took out about 1/2 of what I was carrying, plus my 2 water bottles. This happened day after day, until finally on the last day, my guide carried my entire pack, while another carried Dave's pack. The guides helped you up/down the steep scrambles and for the summiters, they literally kept you standing as you stumbled from the altitude. They loved to sing to you as we climbed--Swhahili songs, but even more, Bob Marley songs.
They had a positive attitude and reminded you that would would make it to the summit. Friday was my hardest day. Martina had been rescued during the night and Denise had to descent with altitude sickness. We climbed to 15,300 ft from Horombu Camp to Barrafu. The snowstorm was especially bad. The walk was meant to be 5 hours, but it took Dave and me 7 hours, climbing two steep, high ridges. We were all getting pretty cold and soaked. A porter ran ahead to the cook and returned with cups and a thermos of soup! The warmth of that soup kept us going another 2-3 hours! Baraka kept telling me he knew I was climbing strong and would summit. He emphasized that I had no symptoms of altitude sickness and would definitely make it that night.
So--the porters and guides are special. It's easy to give them gear when you are done. Dave and I dropped our down jackets into the gear bag, plus my gaiters, my MP3player and my watch.
Dave and I were in our tent at midnight on summit night when our group left for the top. We could hear the guides singing loudly and happily as a way to encourage the summit team all the way to the top! These guys are the ultimate positive psychologists!
still exhausted,
Linda
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
FELLOW CLIMBERS
Top athletes:
Martina: she did not act like a world-class star, asking for special treatment; she was one of the climbers from the start--eating, camping, getting cold and wet, even using the loo (as all the Brits called them). Kevin Bacon tried to climb Kili a few years ago and ordered in a heliocopter to take him off the mountain! We had lots of time to bond with Martina on the trails and in the mess tent. Martina plans to install solar on her Aspen home--so we will be in touch about that idea--cool!. She planned to play tennis at Uhuru Peak on the summit. Only 1 racket came through customs, so Dave suggested she hit it against the sign at the top--an idea she liked.
Michael Teuber: German Gold Medalist paraOlympiian, paralyzed from waist, but using special technology to move his feet: very sweet and encouraging to all of us; German film crew climbed with us to make a doucmentary which you will all see in a few weeks.
Gail H: British Olympic Gold Medalist, badmiton: sweet, unassuming and very encouraging;
Nicholas: Greek Olympian, shooting: (Nick is pretty famous in Greece, where his wife won the Gold Medal-javilin during the 2000 Olympics in Athens!) we hit it off at Heathrow where we all met ages ago; Nick googled me before the climb and loved our two TV interviews on our blog. He thought we were very organized because he saw our clothes spread out in our living room (we were the least organized!). I organized a prayer circle every day befpre we left camp, which Nick really appreciated. Martina also bonded with Nick, especially when Nick gave her a quick back massage during a break on the trail and she said "how do I say I love you in Greek!"
South Africans: great and fun; very connected to Dave and me: Bibi and Babu, which means grandmother/grandfather in Swahili.
English: Karen and I connected over the Law of Attraction and she gave me a healing for my eyes (flashes, etc.from the altitude) at Mawenzi Tarn (14,000 ft) in the snow; Denise, a very fit 40-something had to descend as we headed to our highest camp due to altitude. Porters helped her 4-5 hour climb down, where she was met by an ambulance. We met her on our last day at KIA lodge.
Allana: gave me her fleece sleeping bag blanket, when mine got wet!
This is just a partial list: everyone was wonderful and the bonding of our group was special and supportive of all;
Martina: she did not act like a world-class star, asking for special treatment; she was one of the climbers from the start--eating, camping, getting cold and wet, even using the loo (as all the Brits called them). Kevin Bacon tried to climb Kili a few years ago and ordered in a heliocopter to take him off the mountain! We had lots of time to bond with Martina on the trails and in the mess tent. Martina plans to install solar on her Aspen home--so we will be in touch about that idea--cool!. She planned to play tennis at Uhuru Peak on the summit. Only 1 racket came through customs, so Dave suggested she hit it against the sign at the top--an idea she liked.
Michael Teuber: German Gold Medalist paraOlympiian, paralyzed from waist, but using special technology to move his feet: very sweet and encouraging to all of us; German film crew climbed with us to make a doucmentary which you will all see in a few weeks.
Gail H: British Olympic Gold Medalist, badmiton: sweet, unassuming and very encouraging;
Nicholas: Greek Olympian, shooting: (Nick is pretty famous in Greece, where his wife won the Gold Medal-javilin during the 2000 Olympics in Athens!) we hit it off at Heathrow where we all met ages ago; Nick googled me before the climb and loved our two TV interviews on our blog. He thought we were very organized because he saw our clothes spread out in our living room (we were the least organized!). I organized a prayer circle every day befpre we left camp, which Nick really appreciated. Martina also bonded with Nick, especially when Nick gave her a quick back massage during a break on the trail and she said "how do I say I love you in Greek!"
South Africans: great and fun; very connected to Dave and me: Bibi and Babu, which means grandmother/grandfather in Swahili.
English: Karen and I connected over the Law of Attraction and she gave me a healing for my eyes (flashes, etc.from the altitude) at Mawenzi Tarn (14,000 ft) in the snow; Denise, a very fit 40-something had to descend as we headed to our highest camp due to altitude. Porters helped her 4-5 hour climb down, where she was met by an ambulance. We met her on our last day at KIA lodge.
Allana: gave me her fleece sleeping bag blanket, when mine got wet!
This is just a partial list: everyone was wonderful and the bonding of our group was special and supportive of all;
A DAY ON KILI
Spent 6 nights in a 2-person tent, trying to sleep (Dave succeeded and I mostly did not), stay warm and not be too daunted by the pounding rain/thunder and snow. At 6 am, a porter knocks on our tent door to bring us tea. We wake, try to put the tea in a spot where it will not spill, and change to our layers of thermals, wick-away tops, fleece, down jackets and socks. Some of the clothes were inside our sleeping bags, getting them dry with our body heat. We are also drinking a liter of water as we dress to prevent altitude sickness. Inevitably, some clothing cannot be found or has gotten wet during the night--that slows us down.
We have to pee and since it's raining or snowing outside, we got quite skilled at using a pee bottle, just like those Everest guys! By now it's 6:30 am and our porter calls out "washy-washy" and leaves two bowls of hot, clean water jst outside our tent. I missed washy-washy the first few days--too slow. After 4 days, my timing improved and I washed my face and even put on some makeup! All the rain made the entrance muddy--had to watch undoing washy-washy!
Next, we put everything into our duffle bags for the porters to carry on their heads and filled our daypacks with clothing, energy bars for the day. Rain doubled this effort because we had to make sure all our gear and clothing stayed dry inside our bags and packs. We used garbage bags, but by nightfall, sleeping bags and clothing was still wet.
Breakfast was at 7:30, but I don't think I arrived until 8 am most days. Since we started off on the trail at 8:30 am, I charged through breakfast: porridge with honey, eggs and bacon, fruit and toast. It was important to eat as much as possible, for the calories and to counter loss of appetite at higher elevations. We also had to bring our empty 3 liters of water bottles/camelbak for the porters to fill.
Hiked for hours to our lunch spot or, on short days, to our camping spot. Lunch was always amazing: hot soup, followed by rice or potatoes (fries one day!), a stew-like casserole and tea or hot chocolate. The hot soups were different every day: broccoli, zucchini, carrot, leek, etc. I drank 2-3 bowls--very warming and yummy.
Dinner was around 7 pm, preceded by washy-washy and trying to get organized inside the tent, despite the rain and cold. Sundown happened quickly at 7 pm, so we all had to remember to bring out headlamps to the mess tent so we could find our way back to our tent. Once, I almost climbed into the wrong tent!
After dinner our leader Mark gave a talk about what to expect on the trail the next day. As the rain/cold/snow never let up, Mark's talks became both supportive and sobering.
Dave and I squeezed into our tents, took off our soaking/muddy boots and organized clothing and gear for the next day, using our headlamps. Bed around 9 pm or later, depending on how many things could not be found.
We have to pee and since it's raining or snowing outside, we got quite skilled at using a pee bottle, just like those Everest guys! By now it's 6:30 am and our porter calls out "washy-washy" and leaves two bowls of hot, clean water jst outside our tent. I missed washy-washy the first few days--too slow. After 4 days, my timing improved and I washed my face and even put on some makeup! All the rain made the entrance muddy--had to watch undoing washy-washy!
Next, we put everything into our duffle bags for the porters to carry on their heads and filled our daypacks with clothing, energy bars for the day. Rain doubled this effort because we had to make sure all our gear and clothing stayed dry inside our bags and packs. We used garbage bags, but by nightfall, sleeping bags and clothing was still wet.
Breakfast was at 7:30, but I don't think I arrived until 8 am most days. Since we started off on the trail at 8:30 am, I charged through breakfast: porridge with honey, eggs and bacon, fruit and toast. It was important to eat as much as possible, for the calories and to counter loss of appetite at higher elevations. We also had to bring our empty 3 liters of water bottles/camelbak for the porters to fill.
Hiked for hours to our lunch spot or, on short days, to our camping spot. Lunch was always amazing: hot soup, followed by rice or potatoes (fries one day!), a stew-like casserole and tea or hot chocolate. The hot soups were different every day: broccoli, zucchini, carrot, leek, etc. I drank 2-3 bowls--very warming and yummy.
Dinner was around 7 pm, preceded by washy-washy and trying to get organized inside the tent, despite the rain and cold. Sundown happened quickly at 7 pm, so we all had to remember to bring out headlamps to the mess tent so we could find our way back to our tent. Once, I almost climbed into the wrong tent!
After dinner our leader Mark gave a talk about what to expect on the trail the next day. As the rain/cold/snow never let up, Mark's talks became both supportive and sobering.
Dave and I squeezed into our tents, took off our soaking/muddy boots and organized clothing and gear for the next day, using our headlamps. Bed around 9 pm or later, depending on how many things could not be found.
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
LONDON RECOVERY
See: http://www.nytimes.com/2010/12/13/sports/13martina.html
See: http://www.laureus.com/ and click on their blog for full details of this extreme adventure.
Flew from Nairobi last night. Martina came to the airport for a tearful reunion. She is very fortunate that she descended on the 4th night. Six porters brought her down on a stretcher in the dark on a bumpy trail. Our medic went with her. One of our fellow trekkers is a physician, which was good, because Doug split his head open on a rock when he came down from the summit and she had to stitch him up at 16,000 ft. with no pain-killers! This expedition was constantly beset bwith challenges!
Midnight on Friday night was summit night. The leaders considered cancelling the summit attempt. We had just trekked 8 hours over high ridges through cold, rain, snow and wind. We were soaked. Three of us decided to spend the night in our tents in the high camp. Two of the climbers returned from the summit attempt due to severe altitude sickness. The rest made the summit, literally on their hands and knees. These were 20/30 somethings, some Olympians. When they returned to camp the next morning they looked totally beat and told us nightmarish stories.
We all climbed down to 12,000 ft., passed 3 stretchers just like the one Martina used--very sobering. Deo Gratias, my guide, was listening/singing to the African music on my M P3 player, so I gave it to him when we got to camp. On Sunday, we had a 6 hour walk down to the gate. Both descents in the rain. I tried to stick to my promise to not count the time to the end, and listened to the lovely sounds of rain in the rainforest--birds and chattering blue monkeys. My big toe looks ugly and swollen and is so sore, I'm not sure if I can walk the streets of London!
Happy Trails,
Linda and David
See: http://www.laureus.com/ and click on their blog for full details of this extreme adventure.
Flew from Nairobi last night. Martina came to the airport for a tearful reunion. She is very fortunate that she descended on the 4th night. Six porters brought her down on a stretcher in the dark on a bumpy trail. Our medic went with her. One of our fellow trekkers is a physician, which was good, because Doug split his head open on a rock when he came down from the summit and she had to stitch him up at 16,000 ft. with no pain-killers! This expedition was constantly beset bwith challenges!
Midnight on Friday night was summit night. The leaders considered cancelling the summit attempt. We had just trekked 8 hours over high ridges through cold, rain, snow and wind. We were soaked. Three of us decided to spend the night in our tents in the high camp. Two of the climbers returned from the summit attempt due to severe altitude sickness. The rest made the summit, literally on their hands and knees. These were 20/30 somethings, some Olympians. When they returned to camp the next morning they looked totally beat and told us nightmarish stories.
We all climbed down to 12,000 ft., passed 3 stretchers just like the one Martina used--very sobering. Deo Gratias, my guide, was listening/singing to the African music on my M P3 player, so I gave it to him when we got to camp. On Sunday, we had a 6 hour walk down to the gate. Both descents in the rain. I tried to stick to my promise to not count the time to the end, and listened to the lovely sounds of rain in the rainforest--birds and chattering blue monkeys. My big toe looks ugly and swollen and is so sore, I'm not sure if I can walk the streets of London!
Happy Trails,
Linda and David
Monday, December 13, 2010
OFF THE MOUNTAIN SORE AND EXHAUSTED
Short update. We leave Mt. Kilimanjaro airport very soon for Nairobi and an evening flight to London.
For best update: go to laureus.com and click on blog. The photos are fantastic. You will get a good sense of how extrordinary this expedition turned out. My feet were so sore last night, they could hardly touch the lovely bed - first bed sleep in 7 nights!
Dave and I made it to 16,000 ft. We were so soaking wet, as well as our boots and all our gear, that we decided to sleep in our tent, raather than join the final push to the summit. The climbers were all much younger by decades, Olympic champions and they ended up crawling to the summit. Our leader was even thinking of cancelling the summit push due to an entire week of soaking rains and snow and cold.
Linda
For best update: go to laureus.com and click on blog. The photos are fantastic. You will get a good sense of how extrordinary this expedition turned out. My feet were so sore last night, they could hardly touch the lovely bed - first bed sleep in 7 nights!
Dave and I made it to 16,000 ft. We were so soaking wet, as well as our boots and all our gear, that we decided to sleep in our tent, raather than join the final push to the summit. The climbers were all much younger by decades, Olympic champions and they ended up crawling to the summit. Our leader was even thinking of cancelling the summit push due to an entire week of soaking rains and snow and cold.
Linda
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)