Day 7: June 16th, 2009
The first thing I think about when I wake up this morning is Paul. Thankfully, he's also the first person I clap eyes on as I stagger out of my tent, cursing my thermarest and tripping over my washy-washy bowl.
Paul's recovery is nothing short of miraculous. I can't quite believe that I'm looking at the same person who crawled into his sleeping bag looking like a corpse just a few hours earlier. This morning he's bouncing around like Tigger, eager to please and ready for anything. He also believes that he's Jesus, but we'll skip over that.
Palma, on the other hand, doesn't look happy. Her head cold is in full force today and she's clearly worried about the Barranco Wall that looms ominously behind us. Both Palma and I suffer from vertigo, and this part of the trek has been niggling away at the back of our minds ever since we signed up.
I decide to skip breakfast, nibbling on a pineapple wedge just in case a porter notices and decides to force feed me some porridge. It's a decision that I'll come to regret later.
The Barranco Wall can be deceptive. When you observe it from afar you immediately convince yourself that the only way to scale this 200m obstacle is by clinging to the rock face while your feet dangle precariously over a precipice. In reality, of course, the Barranco Wall is a piece of piss. In fact, all it really entails is walking up a gentle, but very narrow, pathway that zig-zags its way to the top. No technical climbing skills are required, although the odd step is high enough to warrant the occasional scramble. And while there is a bit where you have to cling to a rock as you shimmy around a tight bend (we were told to kiss it for luck), it's fairly tepid stuff.
How the porters do it with all that weight on their heads is a different matter altogether.
That morning, the Barranco Wall is packed with climbers (including those from smaller, independent groups), dozens of guides and close to a hundred porters. The path is incredibly narrow and the only way to let the porters overtake you is to stand aside and hug the rock. As a result it doesn't take very long for the Barranco Wall to resemble a queue for a theme park ride. We spend more time standing around waiting for gaps to open up than we do climbing. I was led to believe that the wall would take approximately 90 minutes to conquer but as we enter our second hour I still can't see the top and my stomach is starting to grumble.
As a result, the Barranco Wall starts to get on my nerves. I'm not the most patient person in the world and I'm eager to get into a rhythm that never comes. Palma, on the other hand, is loving it. In fact, she hopes that summit night will be just like this and I realise that the altitude has finally gotten to her.
When we finally reach the top we are afforded yet another stunning view of Kibo. It almost looks assailable now.
And then we walk. For hours. There aren't any major disasters to report, although Brian does take a tumble and slices his thumb open, but aside from a very steep ascent towards the end, today's trek is pleasantly uneventful.
When we reach Karanga Camp, bathed in mid-afternoon sunshine, everyone is in good spirits. The view is incredible (that rolling sea of clouds never seems to get old) and mobile phone reception is very strong.
Actually, this is a bone of contention for me. It just doesn't feel right. Now don't get me wrong, I can see how regular contact with home would have been of paramount importance for some of our party (especially for people like Palma who had young children) but I would have been happier if we'd been out of contact with the outside world for the whole trek. And while I was happy to talk to my wife every day, I had to force myself never to ask her about anything important that I'd missed at work. I can't get mobile reception on the Castle Eden Walkway, and yet here I am chatting about impending module assessment boards 14,000ft up a mountain. It's just not right.
After dinner, Karsten decides to present his summit night briefing. I
can't remember the exact reason why he decided to do it now instead of tomorrow, but at least It will give us a chance to dwell
on the gory details for the next 30 hours.
We are told to expect the hardest night (and day) of our lives. We are instructed to draw on the fact that we are doing this for charity and we are being supported by our friends and family back home. Our determination and desire will drive us on, he assures us. We are told to drink in the sunshine when the dawn finally breaks and we are warned about waiting too long at Stella Point before making the final push to Uhuru Peak.
It's a lot to take in but Karsten is clear about one thing: we can all make it.
And I believe him.
Karanga Camp Altitude: 3,900m (12,800ft)
Highest Point reached today: 4,200m (13,800ft)
Neil
The barranca wall is very intimidating when you stare up at it. This is probably the longest day other than summit day. Great video!
Posted by: Climb Kilimanjaro | September 15, 2010 at 10:52 AM