It’s 1.30 am - time to go.
We’re ready: all muffled up against the cold, headlamps at the ready,
water bottles filled and energy snacks stashed in various pockets and hidey
holes.
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| Setting off... |
We are at Saddle Hut on Mount Meru and it is summit day. The plan is to get to the summit around
dawn, make our way back here in time for lunch and then carry on down to
Miriakamba Hut for our last night on the mountain.
We have already spent 2 leisurely days hiking - it is important to acclimatise
properly. On the first day, we
walked through beautiful forest from Momella Gate up to Miriakamba Hut, at
2500m (around 8250’). On the way,
we saw a herd of buffalo, giraffe, warthog, bushbuck, Olive Baboon, Sykes’
Monkey and the park’s signature species, the beautiful Black and white Colobus.
On the 2nd day we woke up to glorious close-up views of
Meru’s crater, with Kili’s smooth dome backlit to the east. What a spectacular
mountain – it’s right there on my doorstep and I’ve wanted to climb for years,
but always managed to put it off.
Until now.
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| Mt Meru at dawn, Miriakamba |
We left Miriakamba after breakfast for the easy 4-hour hike to
Saddle. We started out in highland
forest, with giant Podo and Hagenia trees all festooned with Spanish Moss,
ferns and other beautiful plants.
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| Red Hot Poker |
Approaching Saddle (3500m, 11500’), Little Meru looms above us– Noah (our
guide) said we would climb it for our afternoon excursion, which seemed overly
optimistic. In the end, it was a
surprisingly easy hike and well worth the effort, with the land dropping
steeply away on all sides, giving spectacular views.
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| Summit, Little Meru |
A short distance away, Meru’s main peak hovered,
tantalisingly close. The crater had
filled with cloud and kept overflowing like a giant steam-filled cauldron, only
for the clouds to get shredded by the wind and blown away.
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| Meru Crater |
And so, here we all are in the dark, ready for the big day. Anyone with any sense would be in bed,
snuggling up against the cold. But
not us - Noah starts walking and off we trudge.
We move at a slow pace, so as not to use up all our energy
early on. We have planned this
trip to coincide with a full moon: our world is bathed in gorgeous silvery light
and there is no need for headlamps as we zigzag our tortoise-like way up to
Rhino Point. Extraordinarily,
there is a rhino skeleton here, hence the name – although why a rhino would
want to be here seems a bit of a mystery.
(Black Rhino were common in Arusha National Park as recently the 1970’s,
but were wiped out by the 80’s to satisfy the world’s weird desire for rhino
horn).
From Rhino, the trail makes its way along the crater rim, veering off
occasionally to skirt tricky sections.
Most of the time we are walking on ash and scree, but on occasion we
have to use our hands and clamber across precarious rocky slopes. Sometimes we find ourselves on a narrow
ledge, with the mountainside dropping away to Ol Donyo Sambu on our right,
while on our left, a short scree slope ends in the yawning void of the crater –
a 2000’ sheer drop.
The going is hard work, especially on the unstable scree sections, and oxygen
is in short supply. By 4.30 am, we
are getting tired and Jules announces that she’s had enough, is turning
back. Noah is horrified: ‘But
we’re almost there!’ (Yeah, right!) ‘It gets much easier up ahead’. Jules is persuaded and Noah is right: a
short while later, the going improves and we can even see the summit. It still looks dauntingly far above us,
but now our goal is clear. It’s
quite simple really: just keep putting one foot in front of the other.
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| The hard slog up |
Just before 6 am, the sun comes up, painting the eastern horizon in a
dazzling array of peaches, pinks and oranges. Kilimanjaro’s dome looms out of the layer of cloud, which
laps at the edge of the crater just below us. A magical scene.
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| Mt Kilimanjaro at dawn |
It is around 7.30 when we come around a corner and there it is:
Socialist Peak (so-called because this is where Mwalimu Nyerere came when he
launched his political theory of African Socialism) – at 4566m, just over
15000’, Africa’s 5th highest peak. It is a fantastic feeling, being on top of the world after
six hours of trudging. Jules waxes
eloquent: ‘Never – again!’ she manages in a quavering voice.
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| At last! |
But the gods of the mountain have not been kind: the clouds have now
gathered around the mountain and visibility is minimal. And sadly, 2 of our number have had to
turn back – the effects of altitude were just too much. So we don’t hang around long to savour
our achievement, but head back down the mountain once more.
It’s odd how down also means ‘down’. I found the night climb relatively easy, but the descent is much
more difficult. I suspect I was a
bit dehydrated and suffering from a sugar low, but there was more to it than
that. On the way up I was sustained by the anticipation of that sense of
achievement, of getting there: going down, there’s nothing left to look forward
to, except a looooooong hot soak to wash away the grime.
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| Lobelia |
So, of course, back home, we found that we had run out of water and had
to make do with a meagre bucket shower!
