Closer to the Real Thing

A narrative of my adventures in the Peace Corps in Senegal, West Africa. This blog is in no way affiliated with the US Peace Corps, United States Government, or Republic of Senegal. The views and comments expressed within are uniquely those of the author.

Sunday, September 24, 2006









Day 4 at Barafu High Camp, 15,015 feet. Today is the big day on the climb with a six hour hike during the day followed by our summit attempt this evening around midnight. I feel good, my body is enjoying the activity and besides some sun and wind burn, I have faired very well so far. A few folks we passed on the route today were breathing pretty heavily with the altitude. I’m lucky that I haven’t felt any negative affects. The German guy I had beers with at the hotel the night before my climb had gotten headaches and dizziness, then threw up one night and hyperventilated the next. His candor and matter of fact toughness about the whole episode was amazing. He said that after hyperventilating, he felt much better and made it to the summit that night. AMS, or Acute Mountain Sickness, can happen to anyone and apparently fitness doesn’t have anything to do with it. Some people just handle altitude better than others. I’ll cross my fingers for the final 4,000 feet to the summit.

Before starting out for the day, the night was the coldest it has been so far. Ironically I dreamt I was back in the heat of Senegal blabbering back and forth in Wolof with the cast of characters in my life there. To wake up and realize that you’ve been dreaming in a foreign language is strange and exciting. Around 8AM, we started up the Barranco wall, following tight switch backs up the face. There were a number of spots on the lower half where we had to do a bit of rock scrambling, securing hand and footholds to move up and over. At the top I was impressed with how the porters made it up this obstacle with such difficult loads. They are tough dudes. From this height the glaciers and cliffs of the headwall were just gleaming. I must have taken ten of the same picture.

We headed down the ridge and into the Karangu valley. The descent into the valley was steep and in certain places a bit challenging because the trail became the water escape route from up high. In some spots the water loosened the gravel to test your footing, while in others it became ice only to laugh in your face. We climbed up the other side to around 13,500 feet where we stop for lunch. I find a spot out of the wind and at a distance the views are spectacular, but close up are the unfortunate remains of other peoples’ lunch, cigarette, and toilet breaks. I’m not worried about old orange peels, but the plastic wrappers, cigarette butts and used batteries really don’t belong in a place of such beauty. With as much traffic as the mountain gets, it is inevitable that footprints in the dirt won’t be the only trace of people, but I watched countless guides flick their butts or throw a cellophane wrapper without a thought. I’m confident plenty of clients are doing the same. It’s really a shame. I think each group should be briefed on the importance of holding onto garbage and given a garbage bag, but no such protocol. Not a bad project for a Peace Corps volunteer perhaps. As I packed up my stuff, a little black mouse appeared from behind the rocks to see if I left any crumbs behind. I look over to Manase and he’s checking messages on his cell phone. Progress and purity don’t always mix, do they?

Another two hours of steady trekking through our final valley and it’s up the last big trudge to Barafu Camp. The wind was really going as we gained altitude and yet again I felt a sort of knot in my stomach watching porters in t-shirts and sneakers with worn out soles making their way. It makes me feel like there should be minimum standards for health and safety that guide services should have to provide their employees. One company, Tusker Trails, appeared to do this as all their guides and porters wore nice shell jackets with the Tusker name on them.

At Barafu Camp we are set up on a scree ridge that sits beneath the Heim glacier and the final ascent we will soon make up the headwall. From our camp, Mweka Peak sits stately below us on Kilimanjaro’s lower flank, and Mount Meru is still bathed in clouds. I am relieved to have my tent already set up when I arrive and crawl in for some much needed rest before tonight’s final push to the summit at Uhuru peak.

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