(Editor’s note: This story is among the 17 submitted for this year’s Travel Tales supplement in this week’s paper.) By CINDY SIMON My husband came home from work one day last November and casually said, ‘I’m climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro next year. Can you join me?’I was not too enthusiastic. As someone who has been hiking for many years, I thought of myself as being in pretty good shape. But climbing a mountain in Africa”one with an altitude of 19,340 feet; to go seven days with no shower? It just didn’t sound all that appealing. I listed a bunch of reasons to my friend, fellow Palisadian Donna Fol. She was totally unconvinced by my plea and said, ‘You should not miss this chance of a lifetime.’ And so we departed from Los Angeles on February 6 and flew overnight (about 11 hours) to Amsterdam, then south to Tanzania (another 10 hours), landing at night at Kilimanjaro airport, just outside the town of Moshi. The next morning I awoke early and grabbed my camera. I could see Mt. Kilimanjaro, one of the world’s coveted Seven Summits in the far distance, but what struck me at that moment was the ebb and flow of the morning people traffic. Ladies in their bright and colorful traditional dresses strolling along, some with straw baskets on their heads filled with bananas, and some with babies on their backs. There were groups of young children in their navy and white school uniforms, carrying heavy backpacks and jugs of water, and men riding bikes into town to work at the small shops and open-air food markets. The next morning, we woke up ready to climb. Our guide had picked the Umbwe Route, one of six ascents to choose from. I looked in my trekker’s book, which described it as ‘a very steep, wild, exhilarating climb.’ This was not the first time I found myself mumbling, ‘What have I gotten myself into?’ The Umbwe trailhead started at about 6,000 feet elevation. Soon, we were hiking through dense forest with giant trees draped with thick green moss and bearded lichen hanging over every limb. It was hot and humid, and seven hours later as we approached our first camp, Cave Camp, at 9,300 feet, I was pretty well spent. The next day, we continued our climb up through the dark forest zone, and, after several hours, we broke into the sunshine and before us was a striking view of the majestic Mt. Kilimanjaro. Before long, the fog started coming in and we couldn’t see far ahead of us. We were now surrounded on either side by the most unusual trees”giant senecios. They look like tall thick sticks with a burst of green cabbage leaves shooting out of the tops. We reached our second camp, Barranco Camp, at 12,926 feet. After a long hot day, I was ready to relax and enjoy a delicious dinner. To my surprise, we were served an African delicacy: sliced banana soup. At this point, I started dreaming about In & Out Burger and Jacopo’s pizza. Day three was an ‘acclimatization hike to altitude’ day, and we stayed overnight at the same camp. On day four, we set off for Karanga Camp, which ironically would be about the same elevation as the one we had just left. We wrapped around the mountain and had to attack the infamous and much dreaded Barranco Wall, a giant vertical gash in the hillside full of jagged boulders and uneven rocks. Even the porters slowed down as we all worked our way along the zig-zagging trail, often groping our way up the side on hands and feet. The views behind us were of a vast valley dotted with tall, rushing waterfalls and the giant senecio trees. But mostly we kept our eyes focused on the Barranco Wall, not wanting to make the wrong move. When we finally reached the top, it was high-fives all around. Then our guides gave us the good news that the next five hours would be spent hiking up and down small rolling hills. We continued through a dry, dusty lunar-like landscape, the ground full of dull gray rocks that looked like they’d been sliced with a cleaver. We never saw any wildlife except for a few tiny alpine birds and a monarch butterfly. Finally arriving at camp, we were weary with exhaustion. We woke up with renewed good cheer: it was Valentine’s Day! The ladies had come prepared with paper valentines from home, and small heart-shaped rocks that we had obsessively started collecting during our trek. We set quite a fancy breakfast table with our valentines. This was an exciting day, as we headed to Barafu Camp (15,100 feet), where we would go to sleep early, then wake up in the middle of the night to begin our final ascent to the summit. It was a long day of climbing along dusty wide-open trails surrounded by nothing other than the occasional grasses peeking through the boulders and rocks. When we arrived at camp, there was a porter who had a carton of Coke. We bought one for $5 and it was worth every penny. Soon we were off to our tents, as we would be sleeping only a few hours before being awakened to begin the final climb. At 10:30 p.m., our guide shined a light into the tent. The night sky was clear and the winds were calm. We had slept in our hiking clothes, so we put on our headlamps and quickly made our way to the food tent for a light breakfast. Everyone was quiet around the table. By 11 p.m., we set off in a single file with our layers of coats, gloves, scarves and hats. It was cold, but we knew we would soon be working up a sweat, as we were pretty much going straight uphill. The sky held a million stars but it was still pitch black outside. All you could see was a string of headlamps winding up the mountain. Due to the altitude, we walked very slowly, taking deep breaths to get enough oxygen into our lungs. We climbed up ledges and over boulders on a narrow path that wound back and forth. Sometimes a boulder was so high and difficult to navigate that one of the porters had to push me up from behind while Sara, our guide, had to pull me up over it. Many people have asked, ‘Why do you begin the ascent in the middle of the night?’ and it’s a valid question. My answer: ‘If you saw what we were climbing in the light of day, you’d never do it!’ But the actual reason is threefold: 1) to ensure you arrive on the crater rim or at the summit in time for sunrise, 2) in case the weather turns at any point, your chances are better that you will be descending in daylight, and 3) by setting off early, you guarantee you will have sufficient time to descend from the summit not only to Barafu Camp, but five hours further down to the next camp (i.e., you don’t want to spend another night at 15,100 elevation). After climbing seven hours, daylight came upon us in a beautiful and dramatic sunrise over the African plains. By this time the switchbacks had ended, and we were walking up a direct ascent on fine, loose gravel”almost like a sand dune. We paused a few times to catch our breath and take in the incredible red and gold colors before us in the horizon. We stood before enormous glaciers that were the whitest of white; gigantic sheer walls of white. Now we were in arctic conditions in the summit zone: barren and icy cold. We reached what seemed like the top, but wasn’t, rather it was the crater rim, called Stella Point, at 19,000 feet. At this point, you mentally feel like you’ve done it, but you still have a ways to go. We walked ever so slowly around the rim, which gradually climbs upward for well over another hour to the high point called Uhuru Peak at 19,340 feet. There were some in our group who knew they’d make it. They were mentally and physically prepared, and were confident from the very start. Then there was me, who told everyone ‘I have no intention of going all the way to the top’I’ll go as far as I am comfortable, and then will relax in my tent and do my needlepoint until the rest of you come down.’ But here I was at the very top of Mt. Kilimanjaro’Once again, my husband had quietly pushed me out of my comfort box, and I’m a better person for it. (Cindy Simon and her husband Bill have loved living in Pacific Palisades since 1990. They have four children: Cary, Willie, Lulu and Griffith. Cindy is active in local beautification projects, and enjoys volunteering for special projects at the Palisades-Malibu YMCA. She loves to travel and hopes to go on many more journeys far and wide.)
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