... and I have to show the sunrise again (this time, Resha's version), because it was such sweet satisfaction after the seven-hour, ridiculously brutal ascent. More on that below.
But we all know that's cheating. The real peak is Uhuru Peak. But that's for next week. This week's post will be about how we got from Kibo Hut to Gilman's Point. As you will see, it will be very light on period pictures because, well, it was freaking dark and we were concentrating every ounce of muscle, mental acuity, consciousness, etc., on placing one foot in front of the other for seven hours.
If you want a general idea what we looked like during this entire time, however, here it is.
Beautiful, isn't it? Don't we look happy? BTW, this is only about halfway to Gilman's Point at 3AM. Ouch.
Before we get that, however, I haven't done a logistical post in awhile (or really any substantive posts) so this week's installment is the answer to the question "what equipment will I need to summit?"
Now a couple of things to keep in mind. First, we were trekking during the dry season, as covered in a previous post, so we were a good bit lighter on wet/snow equipment than the average trek. Second, summit day equipment is different than equipment for other days since the day (and weather) is relatively extreme compared to even the preceding day. There is a big difference in climate between 16,000 feet and 19,000 feet.
Onward ho! Let's start with the skivvies.
The first layer you need is a wicking shirt. One of the biggest mistakes people make is bringing cotton, and in particular, making that the layer closest to your skin. BIG MISTAKE. While cotton when dry and loose is great, cotton in pretty much every other situation is death. This is because when cotton gets even the slightest bit wet, and it will get wet from your sweat, not only does it chafe like crazy, but it takes heat away from your body, leaving a cold rash behind. So, do yourself a favor and wear pretty much any other material except cotton on these journeys.
This goes for underwear also. I could care less if it's briefs or boxers (helloooo Tisha!), just make sure it's not cotton. This goes for brassiere's too ladies.
The next layer is a good long underwear. Either polyester (or any synthetic fiber) or wool works.
For socks, they sell trekking socks (the two lower, lighter colored socks) which have extra cushion at the toes and heel (and are not made of cotton - sense a theme? - this is where cotton actually hurts the most - blister city). I would also recommend an inner liner sock, like that shown above in black. Your extremities get the coldest quickly, and although you could vaguely function without your hands on the trek, it's pretty much over if you lose feeling in your feet.
Over the long underwear, I opted to go with the layer route, and so went with safari pants. The have a zipper around 1/3 of the way down the leg that can convert them into shorts. I wore them for pretty much 10 days straight (with only one wash), but since it was over the long underwear layer and they didn't really get that wet or dirty, they were still fine to wear.
Over the safari pants, I put on a waterproof layer. Not much to be said here.
Resha and William opted to go with ski pants, like those shown above, to put over their long underwear. That is a perfectly viable option as well. I opted to go with the layer method, however, to (1) adapt better to the temperature and (2) to save luggage space. Since the porter's carried our big packs, this didn't end up being a huge concern, but still... I like packing light.
Over my wicking top layer, I wore a wool thermal layer. Wool is best for heat retention purposes since it creates a lot of air bubbles in the fibers to retain heat.
At the beginning of the trek, my outer waterproof jacket layer was my last layer.
As we got going on our trek, however, it got cold pretty quick, so I opted to put on the above wool fleece layer about halfway up (around when we took the above picture where William looks like death). Resha and William opted for ski jackets under the same rationale of the ski pants. None of us got overly chilly, and in fact, we were almost comfortable temperature-wise on the entire ascent to Uhuru Peak. So whatever floats your boat.
The most important item you could buy singularly for the trek are good shoes. Don't go on the cheap. Pay good money for them. Could you get by on sneakers? It has been done. However, the people who did that told me that the blisters were horrendous, and I can see why. The above low top boots are waterproof, have good padding, and have soles that are very difficult to wear down. They did their job very well.
If you wear low tops, however, I would recommend gaiters. The ascent to Gilman's Point is essentially a gravel pit with rocks jutting out. Every two steps forward includes a step back due to sinking into the gravel. For low tops, gaiters are essential if you don't want to be fishing rocks out of your shoes every five minutes.
If you have high top hiking boots, like the ones shown above, however, my endorsement of gaiters is more mixed. The gravel comes to about two or four inches how on your foot, so as long as the boots are high enough, they should be fine.
Gloves. Probably the hardest thing to keep warms are your fingers, for various reasons. Thus, good waterproof, warm gloves are a must. On a trek like this, liners are also recommended, like those shown on the right.
Even better from strictly a keeping-fingers warm-perspective, however, are mittens. The juxtaposition of the fingers together helps keep them warm collectively, and you can place a handwarmer in a back pocket of the mittens.
On your head, you need a good wool cap. I went with the hometown variety, as much as it pained me to give money to Daniel Snyder.
After boots and gloves, probably your next most essential item is a headlamp. Nothing fancy. Any Petzl brand version will do.
And sunglasses. It is really, really bright at 19,000 feet.
So, that's it for clothing. For equipment, you need a good day pack, as opposed to an overnight pack. All you're really carrying is extra clothing, food, and water. The pack should ideally strap around at least the chest (and preferably also the waist) to take weight off your shoulders.
For hydration, you could just do a water bottle, but a Camelback is best. Not only is it easier to get to water at any time, but you can stuff handwarmers around the pouch to keep your water form freezing, which is the number one problem people told me about who had done the ascent before. I also bought an insulation line and cap for the tube, however, I don't know if they did anything. One thing I think did help was that after each time I finished drinking, I blew all the water out of the hose and back into the reservoir so it wouldn't freeze in the line. Using these methods, I am happy to say that I had enough fluid during the entire hike - about three quarts worth - leaving me free to worry about other things.
And last, but not least, sustenance. The focus here is on both minimizing weight, but maximizing calories and sugar to give you energy. And also food that doesn't freeze. On the left we have little gel blocks, with my logic being that even if they froze, we could still suck some calories out of them. Next was an energy bar, beef jerky, granola bars, and just some good ole fashioned candy. While the company will provide food for pretty much every other part of the journey, this is the one day you need to feed yourself - so stock up at Costco or REI, and bring it to Africa.
Okay, back to the trek. So what was it like? Well, in a word it sucked the big one, big time. Let me lay it out for you.
- Our day (night) began at 10:30pm. Although in theory we slept since about 4PM, in reality because it's so freaking loud outside, we got maybe two hours. To it's credit, the camp is pretty quiet at this point.
- We put on clothes and then get a full meal to eat. Unfortunately, due to the weird time of day, grogginess, and altitude, we eat less than we should.
- As you walk outside, you can barely make the edges of the mountain in the starlight. It's actually pretty marvelous. You see strings of light go up in front of you, as other groups also begin to summit. If I had to guess, I think about 100 people are going up with us.
- As we begin the ascent, the first part actually isn't that bad. We go pretty slow (same pace as in the previous post), with a LOT of switchbacks. It gradually gets steeper, however, and more difficult. You are concentrating on the small piece of Earth in front of you, so you think you are on a path being expertly lead by the guide, but on the way back you realize that while there is vaguely a path, it's more a big gravel pit that you can take any number of lines along.
- The gravel pile sucks the big one hard. Every step up you feel the ground moving from beneath you as you sink in, so you are convinced your using twice as much energy as necessary, between keeping your balance, and picking your foot out of the gravel and reinserting it in more gravel. Imagine doing this for SEVEN HOURS.
- We take a break about every hour or so. This is most welcome. When we begin to worry, however, is when we seem to be taking more, longer breaks than the other groups as some pass us. Eventually, we realize it is because our guide, Ronald, is sick. He was kind of sniffling and stuff before, but he's in a full on wheeze and convulsions at this point. After about hour three, he collapses and says he cannot go on. Luckily, Jonas is Mr. Bionic, so he takes over our journey. That's Ronald on the left of the below blurry photo, right before he dropped out.
- One thing that made us a little mad when we came back down, is that we saw that the easiest way to climb is following a small rock ridge line that provides a little better footing than the gravel pit. Had we fastidiously held to this line, we would have expended less energy. However, fortunately for Ronald, we were too tired to shake our fists at the end of the climb - and Jonas is just too awesome to be mad at.
- Our group sticks together pretty well, with Ronald in front (until he drops out), Resha next, William next, then Myself, and Jonas trailing. I stare a lot at William's backside. Other, larger groups, however, don't do so well. At one point, we gain a french guy of Middle Eastern descent we had met the previous day. His group had gone on without him, but he couldn't quite keep up, so he keeps tagging onto later groups. The guides don't seem to mind much. Eventually, however, even we are too fast for him, so he drops back. We saw him when we got back to the bottom, and he didn't make it. Sucks.
- At around hour 6, the sky gets lighter as the sun begins to rise, and we can actually see where we are going. This is welcome, especially since the gravel pit gives way to actual rocks and boulders, so seeing where we are going is a huge help. At this point, I find my second wind and make it to Gilman's Point a little faster than the others. And what a sight for sore eyes it is.
That's the crevass we climbed out of, and that's Mawenzi in the distance as the sun rises. Hell has been conquered... sort of.
More from Gilman's Point next week...
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