Dublin, 21st June

June 21, 2008 in training | 1 comment

So, it all began at a dinner party I didn’t go to. I was sick in bed, I was feeling awful and didn’t think I’d be much company. Shona headed off enthusiastically to BW’s anyway and in the course of a fantastic night, she got talking to Johnny Grehan. Johnny had been showing an uncharacteristic reluctance to indulge in the fine wines in great supply at the table, so she quizzed him about that. He announced he was in training.

‘Training for what?’ Shona asked.
‘A charity walk up Kilimanjaro!’ was the answer.

That was pretty much the start of it. Shona didn’t quite offer me up there and then, but she expressed interest on my behalf. I’m a reasonably frequent hill walker and I didn’t need too much encouragement, so I subsequently called Johnny and discovered that a group of about twenty walkers were embarking on a charity trek up Kilimanjaro in the coming September. Money was being raised for Self Help Africa, Down Syndrome Ireland (Carmona Services) and the Tuesday Trust.

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Wicklow, July – September

July 30, 2008 in gear, training | No comments

And so, the training began in earnest. Sunday mornings, 8.30 am meets outside the Roundwood Inn, beetling off to parts of Wicklow previously unknown, Tom & Gary consulting their walking books, maps, compasses, all manner of things mountain. The walks were a lot of fun, very sociable events, sometimes strenuous but always with a recirculation back to the Roundwood Inn for goulash soup. This is the most extraordinary concoction, but delicious and warming and the perfect foil for a morning on the mountains.

Prior to the plans for Kilimanjaro, I’d been a stranger to walking poles but had the chance to borrow a pair for these excursions. I was slowly becoming accustomed to them.

Following from this, two things became apparent on these training walks:

1. I wasn’t the slowest, fastest, fattest, thinnest, oldest or youngest and
2. Some people are more interested in gear than others (I am a bit less).

There had been frequent and determined visits to shops such as Great Outdoors, 53 Degrees North and online stores like Jackson Sports in Belfast. We should all have bought shares on GO since there must have been thousands (if not tens of thousands) spent in there for this escapade. Gear isn’t cheap and I was lucky enough to find someone who was about my size from whom I could borrow a load of equipment. Thank you Jack! You saved me hundreds.

In parallel with the Wicklow training, I was also ramping up my visits to the gym, where I met an acquaintance, Richie who had a good laugh when I told him I was going up Kili in September. Richie is amongst other things a kickboxer, snowboarder and general merchant of mayhem and I rather thought he was a bit dismissive of my chances of making it to the top.

I was hoping to prove him wrong.

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Trust your boots (1)

August 7, 2008 in gear | No comments

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So, as the weeks go by and the date draws near, I’m getting a bit nervous about the trip. Reading a lot about the walk,it seems that it’s heavy going but that the trick is to pace yourself and hydrate a lot. Dr. Dave isn’t too bothered about the altitude and recommends the use of Diamox which I’d heard about previously. He further recommends using it prophylactically.

I think I’ve settled on the Brasher Supalite GTXs, partly because they’re light (duh!) and also because there’s virtually no breaking-in. Plus they’re available in town in my size.

Trust your boots.

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Pay-for-your-Plate, Ranelagh, 6th Sept

September 6, 2008 in training | No comments

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Enid’s reconstruction of Kilimanjaro through the medium of meringue,
Hugh on top.

Shona had come up with a  brilliant idea for raising funds for the charities: pay-for-your-plate. The idea was simple, we invite as many friends and relations as possible to our house, we provide the food and drink and the visitors leave whatever they think is appropriate as a charitable donation.

When I said we provide the food, what actually happened was that my immediate family and some friends and relations literally showered us with delicious food, Gary Morton donated the wherewithal to make an enormous amount of salads, garlic bread and soft drinks and Diageo supplied us with beer and wine.

We had somewhere between 55-60 people to the house and to say we were overwhelmed by people’s generosity is an understatement, people were incredibly giving. I’m still speechless.

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Schiphol Airport, 19th Sept, 07:50

September 19, 2008 in travel | No comments

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photo by Aoife O’Brien

Here we are, like so many lambs to the slaughter, waiting to catch our connection to Kilimanjaro International Airport, all rubicund, shiny and keen. This trip has been organised by a fantastic company in Northern Ireland called Adventure Alternative and we’d all been advised to wear our boots for the trip, firstly to avoid any disappointments with luggage disappearing en route and secondly to cut down on weight. Tom Kelly had organised a red fleece for everyone in the group which proved seriously useful in a crowded airport. We flew KLM. They’re great.

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First glimpse, 20th Sept, 09:00

September 20, 2008 in Kilimanjaro | No comments

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Saturday, Day -1.

The Keys Annex Hotel, Moshi, Tanzania, 845m (2,770ft) and the lowest altitude we’ll be at for the next week or so, even lower than the top of Carrauntoohil. We arrived into Kilimanjaro International Airport last night where we were relieved of US$100 for our entry visa. If we’d been British or any other member of the Commonwealth, we’d have been half the price. Confounded Empire …

Woke early this morning and went down for breakfast, looked out through the palms and saw this beautiful, slightly terrifying sight rearing up before us. Damn! It looks big and far away. Have we really let ourselves in for something that we’re not able for?

Today is a day for R&R so hopefully we can steady the nerves with some of the local brew, fittingly named Kilimanjaro Premium Lager. Later in the day we’ll see people wearing T-shirts with the legend “If you can’t climb it, drink it”.

Hmm.

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Downtown Moshi is a blast, an assault on the senses. All of them. Some go to the market and learn to haggle, some go to sup on their last latté, some go to the Indo-Italian Restaurant (very good apart from the slow service) which is an interesting experience because if the Indian chef is off, then it’s only an Italian restaurant and vice versa.

One wonders what it becomes when both of them are off.

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Machame Gate, 21st Sept, 10:55

September 21, 2008 in Kilimanjaro | No comments

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Sunday, Day 1.

Arrived here at Machame Gate, 1790m (5870ft), the beginning of our walk up the mountain, just over four vertical kilometres to go. It’s hotter than it looks, with the temperature floating up into the 30s and the tempers following closely behind. It seems that bureaucracy is mostly the same the world over, but Tanzanian paperwork is a little more leisurely and more disorganised.

We had the pleasure of arriving at the same time as a large party of Belgians and we all had to register simultaneously at one hatch which admitted only one person. We democratically decided that two would fit, and that each pair would comprise of one Lowlander and one of us. Fine in theory until you cram large backpacks, walking poles and general shirtiness into the equation. Tempers frayed. Chocolate wrappers flew. Moustaches bristled and brows furrowed deeply. Jostling légère and jockeying for position. It doesn’t help that I’m not far off 2m tall and ninety-something kilos. I don’t do small spaces well.

We were to meet the Belgians subsequently on the mountain, but more of that later.

So here at Machame Gate we said goodbye to toilets with seats. We said goodbye to showers. We said goodbye to all the things that make us soft and pliable.

The walk begins.

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Machame Route, 21st Sept, 16:10

September 21, 2008 in Kilimanjaro | No comments

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Sunday, Day 1, a bit later.

On the Machame Route, about 2700m (8860ft), towards the end of the first day’s walking. Aren’t we clean? Aren’t we eager? Look how our skin shines with the gloss of soap, conditioning and opulence. How haggard we aren’t, our hair shines, bunions have we none. Look at that enthusiastic demeanour, the insouciance of the low altitudes, the fairness of free breath. See how we’re interested in our snacks, marvel at those un-congested bladders. We rock.

Just. You. Wait.

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Machame Camp, 21st Sept, 20:00

September 21, 2008 in Kilimanjaro | No comments

Sunday, Day 1, night.

We spend our first night at Machame Camp, 3010m (9,875ft). We are all amazed by three things: the vileness of the long drop toilets, the brightness of the stars when we’re up this high and how cold it gets after the sun sets. Compared to the slog up through the rainforest, tonight’s temperature is decidedly low.

So after we share a beer between 22 (we’d been warned off alcohol), we head to bed and the first night of camping many of us has done in a very long time – and for one or two, the first time ever. When I lie down, I become aware of my heart beating a bit faster than normal. Must be the altitude, but at least I know I’m still alive. Me and my fellow tenty are warm and comfortable. People in adjacent tents are sleeping or not, as the case may be. Many of them have started taking Diamox and are having to extricate themselves from their tents to answer a call of the wild. Diamox is a diuretic. I’ve decided not to take it for the moment, because the only other symptom I have is a vague headache.

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Machame to Shira Camp, 22nd Sept, 08:30

September 22, 2008 in Kilimanjaro | No comments

Monday, Day 2

So we woke refreshed from our first night of rest, gorged ourselves on breakfast and entertained ourselves with what was to become the daily routine of washing in a pint of tepid water. We can see the summit hulking above us in the crystalline morning light.

We hit the trail.

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The trail is steep and relentless, we are passing through a variety of environments from montane forest to heath and moorland further up. We jockey for position with our friends the Belgians (who we conquered at Machame Gate). It seems that we’re faster than them, but any time we take a break, they leapfrog us. A congenial rivalry begins to develop. If you look click on the picture above, you can just about make out a lady with a furled umbrella-hat and brown pants at the bottom left. She becomes known as Umbrella Lady. More of her later. Detail below.

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You may also notice the huge burdens the porters are toting on their heads to the top of the picture. The porters are all amazing athletes, carry a supposed maximum of 20kg and run up the mountain at at least twice our pace. The porters aren’t very big, so that load is probably about 33% of their body weight, and they’re doing this at altitude. I’m amazed – I find it bad enough hauling myself and my tiny pack up the mountain.

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Shira Camp, 22nd Sept, 16:20

September 22, 2008 in Kilimanjaro | No comments

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Monday, Day 2, afternoon.

Onwards and upwards we march. Sometimes silent but for the most part chatting, until somewhere near the Shira Plateau and Camp the rain begins. Rain isn’t pleasant at the best of times, but at 3845m (12,600ft) is cold and penetrating. I get a serious dose of the shivers despite leggings and waterproofs. The porters, being so much faster than us, have already erected the mess tent and so we cram in, all 22 of us dripping and cold to consume vast quantities of sweet tea and Milo.

After a while, the rain stops and the evening clears off. Something that becomes apparent is that the reason for the rain is that we had been walking through clouds. But now we are above them. This simple fact makes a huge impression on me and I react by taking about 57 almost identical pictures of clouds and sunset. You have to be a hardcore cloud fan to appreciate more than, uh, about two, so here is a selection of six just for kicks.

The surroundings at New Shira Camp are straight out of Lord of the Rings, the scarier bits. To say the scenery is dramatic is to do it an injustice, but it is a bleak, inhospitable place. Clouds rush up the valleys below and wrap themselves wraith-like around our plateau. Back in my tent, I discover a small rock under where my right hip would be when sleeping, this necessitates sly excavation and being prone on wet ground. This isn’t a pleasant experience.

The sun goes down very quickly at these latitudes and as it sets, the temperature duly follows. We cram back in to the mess tent for another massive intake of carbs, discover that it’s Scott’s birthday (about which he has kept very quiet) and appropriately we notice a massive electrical storm happening off to the east, the far side of the mountain. This is truly spectacular, an amazing sight to behold but something we’re all secretly hoping doesn’t come any closer. To be out on the Shira Plateau at night is a fine thing in itself, but to be stuck out there with an approaching electrical storm is a different matter entirely considering the only cover available is a cave a few hundred metres off which has been used for scatological purposes.

The storm fades off into the distance and we are spared the cave.

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Shira to Lava Tower, 23rd Sept, 08:30

September 23, 2008 in Kilimanjaro | No comments

Tuesday, Day 3, morning.

We wake to a glorious morning and a superb view to the Southwest. What we can see on the distance is Mt. Meru, floating in the clouds 70 km away. It is a captivatingly beautiful thing and predictably, I take about another 57 almost identical pictures of it.

This is a big day, the going gets tough.

We’re leaving Shira at 3845m for the Lava Tower at 4600m (15,100ft) and then dropping down to Barranco Camp at 3960m (13,000ft). The trail is steep and the pace is slow. Some of us are beginning to feel noticeable effects from altitude – some nausea, vomiting, dodgy stomachs and breathlessness. I’m lucky in that I only have is a splitting headache but chug back some aspirin and paracetemol which seems to work – I’ve still refrained from Diamox. We’re all drinking in excess of 3 litres of water per day too – this helps with the acclimatisation. The height gain to the Lava Tower is readying our bodies for the travails ahead. Onward we plod through some of the most amazing views.

Up here it’s bleak, barren, cold. We’ve pretty much left behind any meaningful vegetation except for a few grasses and lichens. The air is thin and I feel a little remote from myself, presumably as a result of the lack of oxygen. I’m not worried by this and it’s something that I’ll experience again, later in the trek.

Large crow-like birds scavenge our lunch leftovers. They look a bit ecclesiastical.

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Lava Tower to Barranco Camp, 23rd Sept, 13:30

September 23, 2008 in Kilimanjaro | No comments

Tuesday, Day 3, afternoon.

So we move on through this barren place and pass by the Lava Tower. To get an idea of the scale of this chunk of rock, click the picture to enlarge, and over towards the left hand side, you can see a tiny figure. Cornell, our guide, had advised us against going up the Lava Tower because visibility wasn’t great and the clouds were swirling round it. An amazing monument on the mountain nevertheless. Gradually we drop down towards the Barranco Valley and vegetation takes hold again. These weird things are Tree Groundsels or Senecio Kilimanjari.

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The Wall, 24th Sept, 09:25

September 24, 2008 in Kilimanjaro | No comments

Wednesday, Day 4, morning.

This Barranco Wall lark is a heap of fun. First off, after breakfast we head towards what appears to be a very steep path a goat might turn up its nose at, vertiginous, high, precarious and full of Belgians. Our friends the Lowlanders have beaten us to it. Dang! Intelligence Agents (i.e. our guides) on the mountain had overheard Umbrella Lady moaning about us Irish to their head guide in Swahili no less, opining that we weren’t very nice and that it was imperative that they left their camp before we did to get an advantage on the hill. Aw shucks! But we’re faster than them anyway and it transpires that there’s a huge bottleneck on The Wall which ends up in us taking a bit of a shortcut and heading them off at the pass. Sort of kidding but not really.

What’s above us you might wonder? Well, there’s a huge mountain above us which still has to be climbed and the antagonism fostered by Umbrella Lady has steeled our ardour somewhat. We’re more determined than ever and slightly less Christian in our attitude.

Onwards and upwards into the heights with the most breathtaking views (and Belgians) behind us. Clouds below and clouds above, Mt Meru in the distance and a couple of hours walking to the next camp. This day is amazing, high, clear, cold, thin air and great companions. It’s life Jim but not as we know it.

A note about progress up the Barranco Wall. As I said above, it’s steep, precipitous and all those other stomach-loosening things (as if some of our stomachs weren’t loose enough as it was). OK so we were gingerly inching our way up, clinging onto handholds and footholds for dear life. The porters on the other hand, were shimmying up, without a care in the world in their sandals, trainers, broken-down boots with 20 kilos on their heads without using hands! All this at about four times our speed. Those men are amazing.

At the top of the wall, we’re pretty much finished with the vertical component of our day, so we eat lunch and some of us start feeling a bit miserable from the altitude. We’re above anything that looks like a plant, and it’s bleakly beautiful up here. I’m still beyond enjoyment of this trip, but in retrospect I think I may have been a little hypoxic which helped the euphoria along. This is what I looked like:

Hypoxia, if that’s what it was, wasn’t so bad except that I looked a bit more dishevelled and Worzel Gummidge-like. I suppose we were at about 4200m (13,800ft). Being slightly more serious, I’d still abstained from Diamox and the only palpable symptoms of altitude I had were a vague headache which I successfully killed with paracetemol and aspirin cocktails.

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Barranco to Karanga Camp, 24th Sept

September 24, 2008 in Kilimanjaro | No comments

Wednesday, Day 4, afternoon.

What’s up there?
The Window – it’s where lost climbers are encouraged to go.
Where’s the mountain? Are there Yetis?
Beyond the clouds.

One of the benefits of trekking over seven days (as opposed to 6) is that you get an extra day’s acclimatisation and therefore an increased chance on the mountain. This day is it. In the afternoon we drop slightly to our penultimate camp, Karanga at 4035m (13,250ft). It boasts yet another incredible view over the plains below. We’re all conscious of the fact that this is pretty much it. No denying it, we’re not out for a picnic. This isn’t a stroll in the park. Insert your own euphemism but don’t forget to wash it down with a few litres of water. And walk slowly.

I think there’s an air of excitement, nervousness. We haven’t had a view of what’s above us quite like this before. We’re all quietly, internally asking ourselves the question and none has an answer. How could we? But just look at it, isn’t is breathtaking? My words and inadequate and pictures don’t do it justice but it is an awesome and beautiful sight.

We’re going to climb up there tomorrow night.

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Karanga to Barafu Camp, 25th Sept, 09:10

September 25, 2008 in Kilimanjaro | No comments

Thursday, Day 5, morning.

But first, we have to leave this idyllic place to get to Barafu. Barafu is the place from which we’ll leave for the top. Getting to Barafu is no joke. Barafu is at 4640m (15,200 ft). I’ll spell it out: four thousand, six hundred and forty metres. Barafu is cold. Barafu hasn’t a blade of grass in sight. It’s way up there.

What are we like? We’ve grown beards, even the girls have five o’clock shadows from the grime, our hands have disintegrated, the strong UV has burnt us, our personal hygiene has, uh, devalued, our bowels are questionable. We’re inured to the long-drops. Simply, we don’t use them. A rock with a view like no other.

Am I still enjoying myself? Yes, absolutely.

On the trail to Barafu I’m beginning to get this sense of contradiction – I can’t describe it any other way. What do I mean? Well, look at the picture above, click and blow it up. It’s bright but at the same time it’s dark. The light is extremely stark, it’s like being in a gigantic room lit only by white LEDs from above. I’m cold but at the same time hot. I’m being slowly cooked by the sun but chilled by the wind. Maybe people who are used to high altitude trekking are accustomed to it but it’s a first for me. We’re walking through this monotone landscape, the only dots of colour in this massive space. My capacity to make sentences of longer than about seven words has diminished.

Undoubtedly it’s the lack of oxygen up here. I’m a little disorientated but I press on. As a group we’re very spread out, some people are finding it tougher than others and we’re wondering what to do about that. A by-product of the increasing altitude is a gradual reduction in judgement, but the group (and especially Tom & Gary) has an overriding sense of needing to not separate into distinct groups. It’s something that has percolated into our beings right from the bottom and we don’t really question it. The aim is to arrive together.

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Barafu Camp, 25th Sept, 14:00

September 25, 2008 in Kilimanjaro | No comments


photo by Grant Kinsman

Thursday, Day 5, afternoon.

So.

Here I am with Ed at Barafu. At some ungodly altitude (4640m) and not able to form long sentences. Barafu is the real deal – we stop here briefly to eat, organise our gear for tonight’s assault on the summit, and sleep if we can. Most of us can’t. The nerves and excitement are too much. We’re all nearing the limits of our physical capabilities and possibly our sanity. We try to eat. We drink. We organise our kit – in my case very badly. We eat some more. We go to bed. We fidget. We pray to our private gods.

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Barafu and up, 26th Sept, 00:30

September 26, 2008 in Kilimanjaro | No comments

Friday, Day 6, just after midnight.

Woke at midnight for the final lurch up the mountain. We drank sweet tea and chatted nervously about the rigours ahead of us, each wondering if we had the energy and willpower to get up the mountain. Final adjustments to kit and spirit and we’re off! It had been decided that some of the stronger walkers should be dotted through the party to encourage some of the slower, colder walkers.

The pace is really slow, since some of us are feeling the effects of altitude more than others. After all, Barafu Camp is at 4640m (15,223ft) and the temperature is significantly below zero with a breeze in our faces. We’re all strangely quiet, a nervous act of reflecting on the tiny pool of light before us thrown by the head torches. When I look up I see a snake of light making its way upwards towards the summit, an indistinct margin between the lamps and the stars. Where does one end and the other begin? Breath comes fast and short and I begin to wonder if I should have been less cavalier about abstinence from Diamox. Too late now.

Trudging onwards and upwards interminably through that loose scree, fantastically tiring. I’m kind of glad about the cold though since I burn hot when I walk and this isn’t presently a problem.

Occasionally we meet people already coming down, turning back through sickness or nerves. These dark travellers undermine my confidence and raise questions about endurance. One of these is Umbrella Lady, our not-so-friendly Belgian. I’m too oxygen-starved to decide whether to be gleeful or sad. It could just as easily be me.

Frequently we stop to drink and snack, some people have problems with their liquids freezing in the chill, however I don’t seem to be freezing over, maybe because of the design of my borrowed backpack and my bulk. We thaw these folks out using warm water brought up for the purpose.

Simon, one of our Tanzanian guides on the mountain, starts to show concern for some of the trekkers and the resulting pace and is keen that we should split into two groups. Tom is adamant that we should stick together as a group however. He is right of course. I’d been having some internal mutterings to myself about whether the speed of the slowest would compromise the success or failure of the faster trekkers, and was wondering if selfishness would triumph over the communality of the effort. Such lofty thoughts shouldn’t really be attempted at altitude.


Sunrise over Mawenzi, 26th Sept, 06:04

By and by the sky to the east begins to lighten. With this false dawn comes the real cold of the night, lower than -15C with wind chill. One of our group has had to turn back with breathing difficulties and I’m worried about another. It’s a product of lack of judgement on my part and depletion of oxygen for all of us, so I defer to our guides. Guides who have been to the top maybe 75 times.

When true dawn breaks there is a feeling of hope and optimism, we’re still a long way from Stella but the day is warming and the spirits rise. There may be an end to all of this …

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Stella Point, 26th Sept, 08:10

September 26, 2008 in Kilimanjaro | No comments

Friday, Day 6, morning.

Stella Point, 5730m (18,800ft) and the highest I’ve ever been. Finally made it after what has been the toughest two hours of my life. I thought I’d lost the power in my legs, but whether it was sheer doggedness or willpower, I made it – I’ll never know. Of our group of twenty two, 21 made it here to the lip of the crater, in itself an astonishing feat considering that some of the group were doubtful that they’d come anywhere near this height.

I don’t know how I feel. Happy? I suppose so, but probably more addled than happy due to the altitude. Elated ditto. Relief that there isn’t too much more upness. The quality of light up here is extraordinary, very very crisp and clear but kind of dark at the same time. Maybe I’m hallucinating. It’s not easy to describe, but this dark brightness is causing some consternation and adding to the communal exhaustion. I can only manage four words at a time. To illustrate this strange sense of abstraction, have a look at the picture below – click and blow it up. It’s actually looking downhill but to me it’s (still) very much up.

I see one of our group parked on a rock having a small emotional meltdown which in turn starts me off. Another two of the group are in a weak state and head back down the mountain immediately with a pair of guides. I find myself concerned for a girl – not part of our group – who has literally been dragged up the last 500m of the mountain by a pair of guides. This girl should not be here and I’m thinking of HACE and death but there again, what do I know? I suspect that summit fever has had the better of discretion.

We gather ourselves into something that resembles cohesion and head for Uhuru Peak, only another 165m and 45 minutes further on.

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Uhuru Peak, 26th Sept, 10:00

September 26, 2008 in Kilimanjaro | No comments

Friday, Day 6, later that morning.

Uhuru Peak, 5895m (19,341ft) and the highest I’ve ever been. And possibly will ever be under my own steam. We are a little over four vertical kilometres (two-and-a-half miles) above where we started at Machame Gate. This place is amazing, everything is in a state of contradiction. It’s hot, it’s cold, it’s too bright but dark at the same time. What’s up is down. In short it’s the disorientating lack of oxygen. I’m fascinated by how any hardcore extreme high altitude climbers can embark on oxygen-free ascents of those behemoths over 8000m. They’re some boyos. I can’t even join up a few words.

Our other ringmaster Gary, is never stuck for words on the other hand and he rallies us for a group hug and prayer. I don’t recall exactly what he said, but it was along the lines of supreme effort and success and a nod in the direction of each of our personal gods and the recipients of our fund-raising endeavours.

Of the original twenty two, 19 have made it here to Uhuru Peak, the roof of Africa. That’s staggering – over 86% of our motley crew has been to the top. We gabble, we hug, we take snaps or at least we try. I’ve forgotten how to use my camera and instead leave that onerous task to others. I’ve shed a hat or two, I’ve shed a tear or two. I think of my family both living and dead. We’re in this alien landscape up here and there’s somebody playing a flute. One of the Polish crew who arrived a bit before us has hauled up a concert flute and is playing something slightly out of kilter with or present environs. The madness of Poles!

We pose for our group photograph and munch chocolate. The baby Jamesons I brought up go untouched, and instead I give them to our two most important guides, Cornel and Lipman. I had a curious idea that if I had mixed them in my drinking water, the freezing point would have dropped but as it happened, I didn’t need to.

Reluctantly we leave this weirdly alien place and had back down to Stella where the next major task lies ahead of us.

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Southern Icefield, 26th Sept, 10:15 am

September 26, 2008 in Kilimanjaro | No comments

Friday, Day 6, later again that morning.

Spent a little time on the top of Africa here at Uhuru Point, I’ve run out of words. This kind of sums up the whole adventure for me.

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Millennium Camp, 27th Sept, 08:30

September 27, 2008 in Kilimanjaro | 2 comments

See that mountain behind the Porters? We climbed that.

But none of us would have been there without the Porters, an amazing bunch of men who basically pushed us to the top. Here’s a couple of short clips recorded by Tom to show how they say Goodbye.

Lipman’s Song

Porters’ Song

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Trust your boots (2)

October 9, 2008 in gear | No comments

Dublin, 29th Sept.

Back home. Sea level. The world is bright with oxygen but dark with the shadow of clouds. And the banking system is on the verge of collapse? I’m drunk on the richness of air.

We were met en masse a the airport by a loyal collection of wives, husbands and some children. Reintroduced myself to Shona and the kids, to the rest of the family. I’m a different person, slightly older, slightly wiser, slightly stronger and considering what the next mountain may be, not necessarily a popular decision with the family yet, but we’ll work on it. All twenty two of us trekkers are different in some way.

We’ve achieved something good, great even. There has been a huge amount of money raised in the name of the preferred charities and we are enormously thankful to the generosity of our sponsors who are legion. People who I have barely met have donated money, people who I know can’t afford it have donated money.

You know who you are. This account is dedicated to you.

Trust your boots.

Hugh
October, 2008.

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Epilogue: Sugarloaf, 28th Oct, 17:03

October 30, 2008 in Kilimanjaro | No comments

So here I find myself a scant calendar month after being to the top of Africa, back up these lonely Wicklow hills again. Dusk late in October on the Sugarloaf, colder than I’ve ever been, wind whistling around with this beautiful, low, winter light filleting the day and night.

Pure and clean, sharp as crystal,

I’m home.

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