We did the research before getting here, of course. We think we are ready. We think we have everything we need, or at least a plan on how to get it. We prepared, we trained, we did all we knew to do. We are ready, right? Oh gosh. How can you ever be ready? What have we done? What are we about to do?? We are not mountain climbers. We are barely even hikers. We are not campers. Not even a little bit. Help?
We meet Charles, our lead guide, when he comes to see us at our hotel. He is there to brief us on what to expect, answer our questions and most importantly, get an actual visual on our gear. He is great and has been helping sorry souls like us get up that mountain for years. He is calm, confident, gentle, reassuring and the exact type of person we need to help us. We will be spending 7 days together with him, it is important that we like him!
Jason and I wanted to put all the odds we could in our favour to make it up that mountain, so instead of taking 6 days, we added on a 7th. We chose the Marangu Trail because it has huts we can sleep in. But don’t let that lull you into thinking that it is the easy trail. It is not. Altitude sickness, the great equalizer, is very, very real. About 70% fail to summit on the 5 day trek, and 50% fail on the 6 day trek. Fingers crossed we are on the good side of the stats with our 7 day trek.
We have options on how we can use that 7th day, and we can mostly decide on the trail where it will be best used for us. The only restriction is when we start the summit walk, we have to commit. We will not be allowed to turn back and try again the next day. It is a one shot, one try deal. So we best be ready.
The morning of day one starts with some logistics. Charles picks us up and takes us to go and rent our sleeping bags and winter jackets. That is an important piece for our chances of success. Luckily, they had excellent quality bags and all kinds of winter jackets.
The minivan taking us to the trail head is jam packed with gear. We didn’t even notice our second guide, Ola and our chef, Simon squished amongst it all. It was a long drive and it was all uphill. We were very grateful that we didn’t have to walk it. We drive through villages and through the rain forest until finally we arrive at the gate. Wow. It is getting really real now. Although, we still haven’t actually seen the mountain. It is the tail end of the rainy season and there has always been cloud covering it. Maybe this is a good thing. Ignorance is bliss. Right?
In the parking lot, we meet our crew. Do you have any idea how many people will be helping us get up that mountain? Ten. Ten men. For the two of us. Ten. We have our two guides, our chef, three porters each and an extra porter who is in charge of our private toilet. Hey, they offered it as a service so we figured it must be for a good reason!
Jason and I were so diligent in packing our backpacks to make it comfortable for our porters to carry. We had the bare minimum and it was all organized carefully in our packs. Apparently, we did not need to worry. They took our backpacks and squished them both into one larger waterproof bag and put that bag on the head of one of the porters! What? This porter was not only carrying his stuff, but both of our backpacks as well. Wow.
As we ate our lunch, we watched the crew pack up the food – baskets and baskets of fresh food, the dishes, pots, their gear and all the incidentals we’ll need up on that mountain. So much stuff. The whole time they are joking around, smiling, laughing and having a seemingly great time. Before we knew it, everything was all packed up and they were off. Their trek had started. Jason and I were still eating our sandwiches. Getting nervous.
Charles and Ola came to grab us. It was time. Time to say goodbye to civilization. Time for one last real bathroom break. Time to get on our daypacks. Time to register. Time to take the ‘before’ picture.
Time to take our first step on the Kilimanjaro Trail.
Gulp.
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