We occasionally broke for photo ops, rest, and snacks on the way to Camp Rongai 2. Our guide, Minja, guided us with a quiet certainty but was rather unhelpful to us in getting our bearings.  Minja spoke Swahili and a few words in English but was unable to communicate verbally or in hand gestures simple concepts like distance to the camp.  At one moment he had us arriving 12 hours later at 8:00 p.m. and the next in just 25 minutes.  Kay and I elected to take a short break for snacks before our final push to camp despite his reassurance that we were almost there.  We ate a smorgasbord of snacks to give us the energy burst we needed to make one more push. The other climbers, Tom and Betty, and our tour lead August caught up with us as we wrapped up our makeshift picnic.  Not a moment too soon; the weather had begun to put a real chill into us.  We stopped together for a quick photo at Rongai Cave 1 (the second is located at Camp 2) before hauling ourselves to camp.

Camp 2 was nicer than the first one.  The latrines are much nicer and don’t stink as much.  Someone thoughtfully left a bucket of water in front of one for hand washing.  Visibility was also than at Camp 1 because 2 is sheltered by a jagged ridge rimming the camp; the weather was cooler with a slight drizzle. To the north, I could see the downhill slope where we had climbed fade into the plains and wispy cloud cover.  No fear of bugs or snakes at high altitudes.  Time to rest and think and enjoy God’s creation.  I thought about my family and wished they were here with me.  I recalled that my wife camped at this very spot exactly one year ago.  Oh how I wished she could have been with me.  Unfortunately, our son was still too young to leave in someone else’s care for over a week, and it would not have been feasible for us to climb together.  I remember how she bravely summited Kilimanjaro on the same route last year.

Porters pitched our tents and laid out our gear for us.  Betty, Kay, Tom and I washed up and ate a small lunch of carrot soup, curry with fries, cole slaw, and fruit. No gourmet cooking up this high; you eat whatever will power you up the mountain!  August told us that at this altitude you may be beset by headaches and a loss of appetite.  Thankfully, none of had experienced the adverse effects of altitude sickness.  Yet.

I slept most of the afternoon while my dedicated compadres acclimatized further up the trail.  When my tent finally disgorged me I fell into the shadow of Kilimanjaro.  The cloud cover had broken, revealing the flat-topped Kibo Peak in all its glory.  Lacey folds of snow lay gently in crevasses created by long-melted glaciers that had raked the mountainside.  The mountain disappeared behind the clouds 15 minutes later.  It was as if the heavens had opened up for a quick peek.  A brief glimpse of the incredible majesty of Kilimanjaro seems to say that only those who are worthy may behold her full beauty.

The rain returned en force following another hodgepodge dinner of soup, pasta, and something that looked like chunky sauce.  We raced back to our tents and settled in for the night.  Thus far the nights tested our collective patience.  Kay and Betty had to put up with two nights of flooding inside their shared tent.  Although mine was spared the worst of the onslaught, the discomfort of a bone chilling cold tent, hard and wet ground, and tight sleeping bag left me feeling sore and drained by morning.  It makes for a quiet albeit austere sanctuary.

Lessons learned:  Wear plenty of sunscreen at high altitudes and apply it frequently.  Although I put 70-power sunscreen on the trail and the day was mostly overcast, my face burned because my sweat wore it off.  Also, bring some Ben-Gay or another ointment to soothe aching muscles as well as a deck of playing cards to play with other climbers during frequent downtimes.  Playing cards are portable and a nice diversion from climbing and shivering in your tent.

Arriving at the entrance to the Rongai Route at midday, we feasted on a light meal of breads, fruits, and vegetables and used the latrine before setting out on our first hike. I remember the excitement and apprehension I felt knowing that I was about to take the first few steps of one of the longest and most difficult journeys of my life. I prayed for God’s protection to keep me safe and healthy during the climb. Even if I didn’t make it to the top of Kilimanjaro, I wanted to return home none the worse for wear.

Our first day of hiking from 1,800 to Camp 1 at 2,700 meters could not have been more beautiful. The weather was sunny with a hint of breeze, and the trail was dry. My wife had warned me to expect rain, but we were blessed with excellent weather conditions. We stopped several times along the way for photo ops and to play with local farmers’ children intent on searching our packs for candy and other goodies. We arrived at camp after three hours of virtually unbroken ascent. Several porters from our entourage arrived ahead of time to set up camp. The team was a large group with three guides and 12 porters and other support staff.

At a lower elevation we passed a selvaculture forest and several fields dotted with potatoes and other vegetables. The fields gave way to untamed forest at a higher altitude.  The trail wound through the woods, up rock formations, and over rocks and roots.  Along the way we encountered different species of monkey, birds, and lizards.  The monkeys reminded me of Africa.  A group of climbers from Germany and some brothers from Tanzania studying in the United Kingdom paralleled our ascent.

We were in good spirits when we arrived at camp. I went to my tent to unpack and gear up for the next day’s hike. Another climber, Betty, thought we should acclimatize a bit, so after snacking on popcorn, tea, and “Milo” hot chocolate (which climber Tom savored to the point of levity) we hiked about 300 vertical meters further up the trail. I wasn’t thrilled with hiking the same route twice but understood the need to adjust to higher altitudes. Thankfully, none of us felt the common side effects one can experience at more than 8,000 feet such as headaches and lightheadness. My chest felt a bit tight that night but I otherwise felt good.

We returned to camp at nightfall as the rain started. Seeking shelter in the mess hall tent, we dined by candle and headlamp on an eclectic meal of bread and jam, hot cucumber soup, vegetarian pasta, beef goulash, and mangos. Our guide was disorganized and offered fewer amenities than other groups using the Rongai Route such as makeshift chairs and tables. However, the meal was delicious, and the guide offered the tour at a reasonable price.

We retired for the evening as the rain picked up. I enjoyed some much needed down time after a long day of hiking. A perfect time to chronicle day two. I wrote this journal using the Amazon Kindle I brought with me for the trip. It’s a unique feeling sitting bundled up in a small tent writing on a handheld device in the middle of the night while the sky pours down on you.

Hours later the rain had yet to cease and started to cause leaking in what seemed to be an impermeable tent. I opted to defer clean-up to the morning because of the rain. The cook provided some water boiled over a camp stove for us to wash up. The camp latrine was hideous; other climbers thought the brushes were a more attractive option to use as a toilet, but I braved it.

Latrine lesson for westerners unaccustomed to using squat pots: Go #1 forward first, then turn around and do #2. Unless you’re a catcher with good balance, hold on to something to steady yourself, hold your pants away from the line of fire, plug your nose, and let ‘er rip. Bring toilet paper and use copious amounts.

Lesson learned: When climbing, try to use a two-person solo tent so you have enough room to store your gear inside. Disregard if you’re hiking with someone you love. Climbers Betty and Kay shared a double tent and had to stash their gear in the tent foyer. Their gear was soaking wet after the torrential rain. Tom and I used solo tents and were relatively unaffected.