This weekend’s Feeding Crane seminar was pretty intense, since it was around 10 hours of training in two days, most of it Gung-Li exercises. We were fortunate to be training in this beautiful dojo, the home of the Shaolin Hung Mei in Boulder, Colorado. Here, Shifu Liu Chang I, Grand Master of Feeding Crane, is demonstrating a footwork exercise.
On a backpacking trip in September, I had an opportunity to visit Image Lake. I was up with the false dawn, and up by the lake before the sun crested the horizon. The lake calmed as I looked for a vantage point that showcased Glacier Peak dramatically over the lake, and started setting up my 4×5. There wasn’t much color that morning, and due to the hazy clouds the alpenglow was subtle, but the dramatic clouds make for a beautiful shot nonetheless. The slides I sent to the lab should be back pretty soon, and I’ll see about getting the negatives to Panda Lab this week. It may be possible to add a large print to my display at Art on the Ridge, and if so I’m hoping that it will be one of the images from this trip.
Last week, the Fish and Wildlife commission held a public session to solicit comments about the wolf restoration plans that they have proposed.
Many of the commenters were lobbyists, and yet they acted as if they had never spoken in public before, constantly going over their time limit and rushing their last few sentences. Most of those people used pretty poor science to back their resistance to wolf restoration.
They ignored, for example, the fact that when park rangers reintroduced wolves into Denali National Park, the sheep populations recovered, because the wolves primarily ate rodents, and of the sheep, killed mainly the elderly, sick, and infirm. They also pointed to Yellowstone’s elk and bison populations, and how much they have declined since the wolves’ reintroduction there, ignoring once again the fact that just a few years ago, rangers were expressing concerns about the bison’s health because they were so emaciated.
They also ignored the fact that for thousands of years before we arrived and screwed everything up, all of these species co-existed here; coyotes, wolves, bison, elk, marmots, pikas, you name it.
Among the most memorable statements came from this young lady, 12 years old, named Story, who drew attention to the face that if we don’t restore the wolf population to healthy levels here in Washington, her generation may never have a chance to hear the sound of wolves in the wild.
That made me think of one of the most memorable nights I spent in Tanzania. On our first night in Ndutu, while we sat around the campfire beneath a towering acacia, we could hear lions roaring as if they were right around the bend. It was humbling, knowing that we were in their territory and that there was nothing between us and them but a few trees and hills, and uplifting because they were living wild, as nature intended.
Conservation Northwest has some information about restoring the gray wolf in Washington
here.
The porters awoke us at 11pm, on a clear, cold night with a full moon. After yet another hearty meal and some coffee and water, we gathered in a line, all bundled up in layers. We could already see the lights of other groups heading up toward the summit. We got our water bottles back from the porters and lined up, eager with anticipation. The porters also gave us snack packets for the trip, pastries, chocolate, and that sort of thing to help provide energy on the long climb ahead.
Once we were all ready, and Good Luck satisfied that we were ready, we began the climb. Still below the snowline, we trudged along a rocky trail, at this point with a gradual slope, though it wasn’t long until the trail became steep, and not long after that we reached the first snow.
On the way up, I heard a guide sending someone back to Kibo Hut with instructions to stay there; I supposed that he was experiencing HACE or HAPE, and his guide was sending him back down for his safety. It reminded me of how dangerous the elevation could be, and how unpredictable its effects.
Onward we trudged, making our way slowly up the mountainside. The group gradually fragmented, but no one was climbing alone. Togalay, one our porters, climbed with me, and somewhere along the way, when he realized that the altitude was affecting me significantly, he grabbed my day pack in order to help me reach the summit.
As we gained elevation, we started seeing more and more snow. This early in the morning the snow helped to stabilize the scree, while it remained frozen, which in turn made the climb easier. The trail continued to switch steeply back and forth across the face of Kibo as we gradually gained elevation. The air grew thinner, making everything seem more difficult, yet onward we plodded.
I was nearly out of water before I reached Gilman’s Point, the first point on the summit of great Kilimanjaro. I could feel the altitude’s effects as I had more and more trouble staying focused on the task at hand, except when I drank… as long as I had water. Shortly before reaching the summit, I ran out. I knew then that I was in trouble, because I was feeling the first effects of high altitude cerebral edema, and had no more water with which to fend it off. The sun at my back lead me to turn around, just in time to witness a truly glorious sunrise, with the sun perched atop the jagged summit of Mawenzi, with a bank of clouds crashing like a surf across the face of Kibo nearly 3000 feet below me. That sight enabled me to focus long enough to capture the image with my digital camera, but I knew that I didn’t have much more time, because I wasn’t quite at the summit yet, and I was already out of water.
Yet I pressed on.
At Gilman’s Point, I realized that without water, I couldn’t continue to Uhuru Point; it was only one more mile, and only 600 vertical feet, but I was already feeling the disorientation setting in. Instead, I paused at Gilman’s Point long enough to get a few pictures, and then began the long trip back down.
Once Togalay realized what was going on, he started pulling me downward toward camp. Good Luck caught up with us when we were back on the scree, below the snowline, and helped Togalay keep me standing up while we scree-skated our way back to Kibo Hut Camp. On the way, I felt the disorientation fade, the relief of having my faculties back far overshadowing the exhaustion I felt upon our return to camp, where I immediately crawled back into my sleeping bag to rest and recover from the adventure.
A crisp, clear dawn offered glorious views of Mawenzi, towering high above our camp. Mawenzi towered above us, glorious in the cold dawn light. Even some of our porters seemed to be feeling the chill that morning.
After breakfast and a water refill, we started our hike across the ridge between Mawenzi and Kibo, known as The Saddle. As we hiked along the trail on the way to the Saddle, clouds rolled in and limited our view to the barren moonscape of Kilimanjaro’s ridges.
There was very little vegetation in this harsh clime. Unlike the mountains of the Pacific Northwest, there is no snowpack to protect the plants from the harsh winds that frequent this region. Our guides showed us evidence of the power of winds; on The Saddle is a wrecked plane, brought down by those winds. As the story goes, a pair of honeymooners chartered a private plane in the hopes of seeing the Snows of Kilimanjaro. Against regulations, the pilot flew them over The Saddle on the way to Kibo, and the winds brought the plane down, killing the newlyweds.
The park service removed the bodies, but left the wreckage because it would have been to costly to remove.
As we continued our trek across The Saddle, the weather grew harsher. It started raining and sleeting, and the wind picked up. It reduced our views to short distances, and made photography more difficult; I kept my camera under my jacket in order to keep it out of the rain.
The weather held until we reached Kibo Hut camp, at a lofty 15,500 feet. The thin air made everything feel like quite an effort, so most of us were moving fairly slowly by this point.
We had an early dinner, and Good Luck briefed us on our summit plans. The porters were going to get us up at 11pm for dinner, and we would convene at midnight to begin the last leg of our trip to the rooftop of Africa.
We awoke to a breaking dawn on a clear sky, the early morning light shining on the magnificent Kibo.
Today’s hike was the steepest of the trip, gaining 300 feet in 3 miles. Moses kept our pace slow, as usual. We still saw signs of the burn, though the sage was busily reclaiming the land.
The clear sky didn’t last all that long; even before our break, the fog had rolled in, obscuring the vistas once again. The altitude was making itself known also; the temperature was lower, and the air thinner. The fog added to the chill.
We continued on through the fog to the crowded Mawenzi Tarn Camp. Once again, our porters greeted us with a song and dance, every bit as welcome as it had been the previous evening.
After lunch, some adventurers rested, and some hiked up along the ridge above Mawenzi Tarn to help with acclimation. The sky cleared while we hiked, offering us views of jagged Mawenzi.
After the acclimation hike and some rest, we had another hearty dinner and headed off to bed.
The rain that began that night persisted into the morning. Even that wasn’t enough to impede our excitement about climbing Kilimanjaro, though.
After a hearty breakfast that included eggs, sausages, cheese, coffee and bread, we got our day packs ready for the day’s hike. The porters brought us purified (by boiling) water and packed up our tents while we started heading out. With a group of 14 people, it took a bit of time to get everyone together and get going, so we got a later start than we’d planned.
Once again, Moses kept our pace, Good Luck brought upt the rear, and porters passed us regularly. We stepped off of the trail to let them pass, marveling at the ease with which they carried their packs, some on their heads, some on their backs and some both, frequently wearing just shorts, t-shirts, and flip-flops.
The weather continued to obscure the mountain’s summits, but it didn’t dampen our spirits. Onward we trudged, pole pole (slowly, slowly), hoping that the cloud cover would clear so that we could see Mawenzi and Kibo in their full glory. Kilimanjaro’s beauty isn’t limited to the majestic, however.
We paused for pictures at first cave, where climbers once stayed; now it’s considered unsafe, so people don’t camp there anymore, but it still looks nice!
We broke for lunch at Second Cave. Our porters set up our table in the cave, and prepared a hot lunch with pasta for us, and also refilled some water bottles for those of us who were running low on water. One group making the ascent paused here to get an extra acclimation day into their schedule, but most pushed on.
It was a bit of a surprise to find the skull of a cape buffalo at this elevation, but there it was, right by the cafe entrance. Good Luck told us during the hike that some cape buffalo made their way up to the moorland every once in a while, which explained the skull at the entrance to Second Cave.
After lunch, we set out once again across the moorland. I marveled at Kilimanjaro’s beauty, stopping frequently to admire and photograph the scenery. The cloud cover came and went throughout the day, offering brief glimpses of Mawenzi and Kibo as we trekked.
Good Luck told us that a large area on this part of the mountain had burned in a wildfire, and there were still some charred, blackened brush and rock visible among the new growth as we climbed over the last ridge before Kikelewa Cave.
After cresting the ridge, the views of Mawenzi continued to grow more dramatic. The jagged spires of Mawenzi’s summit towered over us, drifting in and out of the clouds.
When we arrived at Kikelewa Cave, our porters surprised us by greeting us with a song and dance:
Asante Sana
Pole pole!
Hakuna Matata!
Which loosely translates to “Welcome, welcome! Slowly, slowly! It is nothing!” For a more precise translate, you’ll have to consult with someone who speaks Kiswahili.
The dance cheered us — and our group of porters was the only one that greeted their party with a song and dance. Quite an end to a long day’s hiking on Kilimanjaro!
Today, after an early breakfast, we got ourselves ready to head over to Kilimanjaro to begin our climb. The folks at the Impala had a room by the office ready for us to store the luggage that we weren’t taking with us to the mountain, so all that we had to do was pack our duffel bags for the porters to carry, and our day packs for us to carry.
We were scheduled to depart at 8am. Between the bus arriving late, getting everyone situated, and getting our gear secured on top of the bus, we ended up departing from the Impala at closer to 10am.
It was a scenic drive, through forested countryside with villages here and there, some with bustling markets. The banana trees and the occasional baobab were a reminder that we weren’t in Washington.
We stopped at Marangu Gate and waited while Good Luck got our national park passes sorted out, paid our fees, and arranged out porters for the trip. What we though would be a brief visit ended up being a pause of several hours, so we had time to wander about and do a bit of shopping. Several street vendors started hawking their wares, mostly small art pieces similar to what we had seen in Moshi Town, and of course haggling with us. A few of the folks in our group were getting quite good at haggling.
Though it took a while, we were back underway by around noon. It was another 90 minutes or so to the Rongai gate and the trailhead where the real adventure was to begin.
The porters started unloading our gear from the truck while we got ready start hiking.
They set up some folding tables in the tourist shelter and laid out a light lunch for us (complete with fresh bananas and avocados), and we were off on our journey. Most of our porters headed out on a short cut so that they would beat us to the camp site.
Spirits were high for the most part on this leg of the trip; we were excited, just getting started, and still at relatively low elevation. The challenge today wasn’t to finish the hike, it was learning “pole pole” Kiswahili for “slowly, slowly” — the way to reach the summit was to maintain a slow and relaxed pace. While Good Luck brought up the rear, Moses lead, and kept us on a sedate pace that had us gaining elevation quite slowly, and conserving our energy so that we’d be able to do it again the next day.
In addition to “pole pole” there were a lot of calls of “Jambo” (welcome) as porters passed us — which happened frequently. Some carried packs, some carried stuff sacks on their heads, and some carried both. They made the trip look easy, passing us constantly. Everyone cleared the way for them to let them pass.
At these moderate elevations, we were traveling through forest not much different from the forests of Washington, lush and verdant. Signs indicated that there were something like 20 different species of trees in the “erica” family along the route. The children walking through the forest were a bit of a surprise; Moses told us that there was a school nearby, and the children were walking home from there. They followed the trail asking for chocolate, and occasionally getting photographed.
One of the highlights of our first day was sighting several monkeys, native to Kilimanjaro, leaping among the trees. We stopped for almost fifteen minutes watching them, and attempting to photograph them.
They weren’t easy subjects; they were pretty far away, moved pretty quickly, and didn’t stay still for long. It was worth it just to see them, though.
We gained nearly 3000 feet in elevation, bringing us to the transition zone, as we passed from rain forest to moorland. The clouds hadn’t parted much yet, so we still hadn’t gotten any clear views of Kibo or Mawenzi, even though they were towering above us the entire time. The silver lining is that it was much less hot than it would have been had the sky been clear, and the tropical sun beating down on us.
The weather and the foliage both changed as we neared our first camp. The temperature dropped and the clouds rolled in. The thick clouds swallowed up the setting sun, and not long after we reached camp and sat down to dinner, the rain began — and lasted all night.
The porters had already set up our tents when we arrived, along with a mess tent. They provided us with a multi-course dinner; complete with fish and chips and a wonderful vegetable stew. It was quite a meal, and a good way to end our first day of hiking on the Mount Kilimanjaro.
Our group of 14 Enticing Adventurers departed the US and Canada in February. Most of us traveled through Amsterdam and then Nairobi on the way to Kilimanjaro. Most of those who took the flight from Nairobi to Kilimanjaro had to wait a day or two for their luggage, which didn’t make it onto the small plane. Apparently Precision Air had been bumping baggage all day in an attempt to catch up on baggage for earlier flights.
Things were very different at the Impala. We arrived well after 1am after all of that travel, and most of us were both tired and hungry. In spite of the late hour, the cooks actually got up and made us several platters of french fries, along with various different types of chutney. It was quite a welcome after all that traveling, as well as an introduction to Tanzanian hospitality, something we call came to appreciate during this trip.
We had a day at the Impala before heading for the mountain, so we used that day mostly to relax. Some of us headed into Moshi town to cruise around and do a bit of shopping. In addition to exploring a spice market, we found I Curio, a great place to get a wide variety of arts and crafts, and as it turned out, with good prices. Not far from there is an independent artists cooperative, which was similar, with the exception that we were talking with the artists directly, and had a chance to see some of them at work.
That evening we met with Good Luck Charlie and Moses, our mountain guides for the Kilimanjaro trip. Good Luck brought a map and showed us our route, and also told us about how the trip would work.
The plan was to depart the following morning fairly early, and stop at the Marangu gate to take care of permits and hire arrange porters and all. From there, we would continue to the Rongai Gate, where we would have a light lunch and then begin hiking to our first camp. The first two days were at low enough elevation that there was a distinct possibility of fairly hot weather, as well as cold. So it goes on moutains.
Good Luck also told us a bit about altitude sickness and how to prevent it. The big things he emphasized were to be sure to eat and drink enough, especially since at higher elevations people’s appetites begin to suffer, and also to maintain a nice, slow hiking pace.
Good Luck also gave us some advice about what to keep in our day packs, and what else to pack in our duffel bags. The porters would be carrying the duffels from one camp to the next, so anything we might need while hiking we would have to carry. Our day packs were mainly limited to snacks, water, layers, and rain gear; I added my large format camera and tripod to mine.
After that, it was off to bed, with the plan for an early start.
