Hello,
My first discovery is that Tanzanians really are super-human. My Kenyan crew is merely mortal - they suffer on uphills, sweat tons, and need breaks from time to time (I would guess once an hour, for 10-15 minutes). Heh, after racing along at TZ-porter pace, this is strange... We're alking at a normal backpacking pace (very easy for me). At least my ankle basically rested.
Weight-wise, I'm a little heavier than "normal" since I have my harness, helmet, some gear, plus a pair of leather heavy boots (no way I'll use them for hiking... Damn, those days of heavy feet sucked!). I'm using my vinyl heavier climbing pack instead of the GoLite because some of the rock climbing involves pack hauling and there's no way the GoLite would survive dragging against rock for hundreds of feet! I also have a tent - we decided to go wth one of the Batian View Mountain HArdware tents since there's a reasonable chance of rain and waiting for climbing opportunities might involve sitting around a lot. I would guess I'm at about 16 kilo (35 lbs) with a couple liters of water. My crew though, is carrying a lot more. It's a total disregard for lightness!
So why are their packs so heavy? It's not the stove, they don't use the 14.5 kg monstrosity of Kili teams, they use what they call a parafin stove - I dunno what exactly the fuel is, I thought parafin is solid at room temperature, and this stuff has the viscosity of water but the weight of a very light oil. Stove looks like an ordinary pump stove.
Anyway, the weight is probably the fruit. They brought tons of fresh fruit. I mean, for the four of us, 4 pineapples, more than a dozen mangoes, etc. I think about 2/3rds of a 70 liter old school pack (prolly weighs 10 lbs empty) is full of fresh fruit! Insane! Not that I'll complain, I love fruit... Other weight adders include a steel tin of jam, stainless utensils, plates, etc. Unlike Kili, there aren't scales at every station, so I have no idea what their packs weigh - looks like at least 25 kilo (55 lbs) if not more.
Anyway, the day started at BAtian's View, 7000 ft, and we drove to the Naru Meru park entrance. We then walked to 10,000 ft to the weather station, where there's a Lodge (seen lots of whitey going in, must be the norm here). I pitched my tent right in front of the lodge on the lawn. Hey, that's what the ranger said to do. My crew is sleeping in the huts - its free for locals. You can actually avoid bringing a tent on most Mt Kenya routes - you can pay to sleep in huts (many people in one big room) or lodges (cabins at a few locations, bed and room provided, use your own sleeping bag). It's not as clean (the huts) as a tent though, but the lodges are.
Ahh. Also, there are LOTS of monkeys of various species here. Most of them sound like dogs. It's pretty strange to hear a pack of dogs barking as if they're fighting, only to find little human-looking things standing on two legs, barking at each other. Probably what we look like to other animals when we argue. A couple monkeys roaming the area of the lodge are looking at my tent. I'm told that if I leave it partially open, they will go in looking for edibles...
And my final coment for this post - paramythrin or whatever that spray on insect repellant is (got it at rei, it's for clothes and cautions against getting it on skin, can be sprayed on or laundered into your clothes) is damn good. I used that on my nylon clothes before kili (pants, shirt, hat, and running shoes), with the plan of using my deet-based repellant on exposed skin. Today, I never got around to deet, but I watched my crew get covered with insects while only the occaisional beetle landed on my clothes. I can't recall the name of the biting fly that causes sleping sickness, but those were biting my crew on all their exposed skin. I didn't get touched! Usually, if there are 20 people in a group, I'll be the only one attacked... Awesome. And I don't have deet all over me!
Ok, time to find signal...
Joek
Friday, March 13, 2009
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Batian's View
Wow,
This place is a surprise. We drove through Naro Meru, a little village that looks like most I've seen in Kenya (which is to say almost identical to towns in TZ except with a greater number (or density) of ragged shops lining the street (don't think stripmall, think dilapidated buildings about to fall into a pile of dust, with store names written by hand or sometimes stenciled on their fronts)).
As we drove through this town, I really had low expectations for the place I was staying. We turned off the main route and onto a small dirt road, and I figured we were heading to a dump. Much to my surprise, though, the place we pulled into was nice! Really nice! Rustic log cabins, flowers, trees, etc. It feels like a B&B in Napa!
My room is in a cabin built for about ten people, but I'm the only occupant. The rest of the cabins are 1-4 ppl in size. There's a group of folks from around the globe (Japan, Australia, UK, US) doing volunteer work (making bricks right now, will move on to building a building at some point) who are staying in the smaller cabins.
My ankle feels better today. I slept with it raised about a foot up, with warm blankets over it. Swelling died down and pain is all gone. I wrapped it with an ace type bandage - I thought about immobilizing it with tape, but, well, then it would be completely immobile! So, bandage to support it and off we go!
This mountain is not a tourist destination like Kili. Sure, lots of people come (thousands summit the lower peak, Lenana, which involves at worst a class 3 scramble), but they're used to mountaineers here. The Diamond Couloir is supposed to be one of the best ice climbing routes in the world. There are literally dozens of famous routes up each of the dozens of sub-peaks here. Given all that, though, fewer than 100 people reach the summit of the highest peak, Batian, each year.
The point, anyway, is that as a climbers mountain, there is no enforced slowness. People who are climbing don't take a week to get to the climbs. We have some options, but to favor my ankle, we'll do a slow approach - Day 1 starts today around 11am and involves an hour or so. Day 2 will be a push up a couple thousand meters. And Day 3 will put us at the Top, or Austrian, Hut at almost 4800 meters. The faster way, were my ankle better, would be to drive the whole way up to camp 1 (the Met Station) and skip Day 1 entirely, easily possible with my already god acclimatization.) Day 4 will be rock climbing if the weather is good. Currently, there's a short noon storm every day, which we need to account for.
My technical guide, whom I'll meet at the Top Hut, is a member of the Mt Kenya Search and Rescue team. I guess I couldn't really ask for a better guide up the easiest route up the mountain. He will make the call, based on weather and experience and what he thinks of my climbing skills when we meet up, on whether we will shoot for the whole project in a single day or whether we will take sleeping gear with us. Taking it (which is slower) ensures 2 days. Not taking it makes a 1 day ascent and descent possible. It's 4-7 hours up, 3-4 hours for the traverse and back to get Batian (which includes a couple pitches up after crossing the top of the glacier - Peter is calling around to see how frozen the glacier is and if its rock hard, I'll rent boots from him so I can don crampons (seems likely given the -15C we're expecting up there... I have an ice axe waiting for me, too)), and an hour or two to rap down. 8-13 hours, but if the weather looks like we need to spend a couple hours waiting out some snow, then that becomes an instant 2-day trip.
Oh, I found out how one makes 20 anchors and still manages a 4 hour ascent - the anchor spots are always the same and there are well known anchor locations so that it's an arrive, place, belay action that takes someone familiar with the route no time at all...
On the way back, Day 5, we'll take the long, beautiful route out, as much to protect my ankle from the steep route as to let me see the prettier side of Mt Kenya. This will take 2 days as well...
So, that's the plan. There's buffer time in case we need to wait out the weather, etc. I have no idea when I'll have signal, so I'll have to let you know how things went maybe when I'm back, maybe as they happen...
Woohoo!
Joel, excited!
This place is a surprise. We drove through Naro Meru, a little village that looks like most I've seen in Kenya (which is to say almost identical to towns in TZ except with a greater number (or density) of ragged shops lining the street (don't think stripmall, think dilapidated buildings about to fall into a pile of dust, with store names written by hand or sometimes stenciled on their fronts)).
As we drove through this town, I really had low expectations for the place I was staying. We turned off the main route and onto a small dirt road, and I figured we were heading to a dump. Much to my surprise, though, the place we pulled into was nice! Really nice! Rustic log cabins, flowers, trees, etc. It feels like a B&B in Napa!
My room is in a cabin built for about ten people, but I'm the only occupant. The rest of the cabins are 1-4 ppl in size. There's a group of folks from around the globe (Japan, Australia, UK, US) doing volunteer work (making bricks right now, will move on to building a building at some point) who are staying in the smaller cabins.
My ankle feels better today. I slept with it raised about a foot up, with warm blankets over it. Swelling died down and pain is all gone. I wrapped it with an ace type bandage - I thought about immobilizing it with tape, but, well, then it would be completely immobile! So, bandage to support it and off we go!
This mountain is not a tourist destination like Kili. Sure, lots of people come (thousands summit the lower peak, Lenana, which involves at worst a class 3 scramble), but they're used to mountaineers here. The Diamond Couloir is supposed to be one of the best ice climbing routes in the world. There are literally dozens of famous routes up each of the dozens of sub-peaks here. Given all that, though, fewer than 100 people reach the summit of the highest peak, Batian, each year.
The point, anyway, is that as a climbers mountain, there is no enforced slowness. People who are climbing don't take a week to get to the climbs. We have some options, but to favor my ankle, we'll do a slow approach - Day 1 starts today around 11am and involves an hour or so. Day 2 will be a push up a couple thousand meters. And Day 3 will put us at the Top, or Austrian, Hut at almost 4800 meters. The faster way, were my ankle better, would be to drive the whole way up to camp 1 (the Met Station) and skip Day 1 entirely, easily possible with my already god acclimatization.) Day 4 will be rock climbing if the weather is good. Currently, there's a short noon storm every day, which we need to account for.
My technical guide, whom I'll meet at the Top Hut, is a member of the Mt Kenya Search and Rescue team. I guess I couldn't really ask for a better guide up the easiest route up the mountain. He will make the call, based on weather and experience and what he thinks of my climbing skills when we meet up, on whether we will shoot for the whole project in a single day or whether we will take sleeping gear with us. Taking it (which is slower) ensures 2 days. Not taking it makes a 1 day ascent and descent possible. It's 4-7 hours up, 3-4 hours for the traverse and back to get Batian (which includes a couple pitches up after crossing the top of the glacier - Peter is calling around to see how frozen the glacier is and if its rock hard, I'll rent boots from him so I can don crampons (seems likely given the -15C we're expecting up there... I have an ice axe waiting for me, too)), and an hour or two to rap down. 8-13 hours, but if the weather looks like we need to spend a couple hours waiting out some snow, then that becomes an instant 2-day trip.
Oh, I found out how one makes 20 anchors and still manages a 4 hour ascent - the anchor spots are always the same and there are well known anchor locations so that it's an arrive, place, belay action that takes someone familiar with the route no time at all...
On the way back, Day 5, we'll take the long, beautiful route out, as much to protect my ankle from the steep route as to let me see the prettier side of Mt Kenya. This will take 2 days as well...
So, that's the plan. There's buffer time in case we need to wait out the weather, etc. I have no idea when I'll have signal, so I'll have to let you know how things went maybe when I'm back, maybe as they happen...
Woohoo!
Joel, excited!
Here come the clouds again...
Yeah, well... Look carefully, you'll see the massif below the clouds. :p
Joel
Arusha-Nairobi-Batian View Inn
Hello!
Long bus ride, followed by a long car ride. It was 270km from Arusha to Nairobi, but more than half the road was out, so we were mostly on dirt roads. The bus was surpisingly pleasant - one size up from the matatu, it seats 21 US style (an isleway so people in the back can exit in an emergency), or 28 with the isle seats in place. And we only had 19. But off_roading about 100 miles in a bus is the suxxors, especially when at the end of the bus ride, you meet a guy with a taxi, and then you ride for 200 more km. Ugh!
The Kenya-Tanzania border is less secure than the California-Nevada border. At least in Cali, they ask if you have fruit! We arrived at the 'leaving TZ' side and dropped off customs forms and ou passports for stamping. One woman stood at the back of the line and when a few of us had finished, she joined us in walking to the Kenyan side. We went into the building for stamps, she went straight to the bus. No record of leaving or entering and it was never checked. Nice..
On the taxi ride, we passed many vendos hocking fresh fruit. My guide bought a bunch of pineapples and mangos and then bought me and himself sliced, peeled pineapple. All the alarms in my head wee ringing. I already got the shits once and went through my antibiotics course, which means the flora in my stomach/intestines is probabl devastated and i'm susceptible to getting sick, right? But I didn't want to offend... And pineapple is so good... So I accepted his gift and ate it. Mmmmm, sweetest pineapple ever! I sure hope I don't pay for this on the mountain!
BTW, I'm wearing a cotton t-shirt. A day of bus/taxi in 80s-90s weather... Damn, I smell worse than when I got off Kili!
OH, speaking of which, my guide says to expect -15 C (about 0 F) at the summits of Nelion and Batian (the 2nd and 1st highest peaks of Mt Kenya). He says we'll talk details tonight, but if I'm a solid climber, he thinks I can grab Nelion in 4-6 hours (20 pitches), traverse to Batian in 2 hours (about 3 pitches plus crossing the top of a glacier), return across the gap in the same time, and rappel down quickly, making it a 1-day (albeit very long) affair, avoiding carrying sleeping gear.
Sounds crazy. Looking forward to the discussion tonight!
OH^2: My guide boasts that Kenya makes the best coffee in the world. I told him I was woefully dissappointed in TZ. He promises to show me real coffee. Mmmmm...
Joel
Long bus ride, followed by a long car ride. It was 270km from Arusha to Nairobi, but more than half the road was out, so we were mostly on dirt roads. The bus was surpisingly pleasant - one size up from the matatu, it seats 21 US style (an isleway so people in the back can exit in an emergency), or 28 with the isle seats in place. And we only had 19. But off_roading about 100 miles in a bus is the suxxors, especially when at the end of the bus ride, you meet a guy with a taxi, and then you ride for 200 more km. Ugh!
The Kenya-Tanzania border is less secure than the California-Nevada border. At least in Cali, they ask if you have fruit! We arrived at the 'leaving TZ' side and dropped off customs forms and ou passports for stamping. One woman stood at the back of the line and when a few of us had finished, she joined us in walking to the Kenyan side. We went into the building for stamps, she went straight to the bus. No record of leaving or entering and it was never checked. Nice..
On the taxi ride, we passed many vendos hocking fresh fruit. My guide bought a bunch of pineapples and mangos and then bought me and himself sliced, peeled pineapple. All the alarms in my head wee ringing. I already got the shits once and went through my antibiotics course, which means the flora in my stomach/intestines is probabl devastated and i'm susceptible to getting sick, right? But I didn't want to offend... And pineapple is so good... So I accepted his gift and ate it. Mmmmm, sweetest pineapple ever! I sure hope I don't pay for this on the mountain!
BTW, I'm wearing a cotton t-shirt. A day of bus/taxi in 80s-90s weather... Damn, I smell worse than when I got off Kili!
OH, speaking of which, my guide says to expect -15 C (about 0 F) at the summits of Nelion and Batian (the 2nd and 1st highest peaks of Mt Kenya). He says we'll talk details tonight, but if I'm a solid climber, he thinks I can grab Nelion in 4-6 hours (20 pitches), traverse to Batian in 2 hours (about 3 pitches plus crossing the top of a glacier), return across the gap in the same time, and rappel down quickly, making it a 1-day (albeit very long) affair, avoiding carrying sleeping gear.
Sounds crazy. Looking forward to the discussion tonight!
OH^2: My guide boasts that Kenya makes the best coffee in the world. I told him I was woefully dissappointed in TZ. He promises to show me real coffee. Mmmmm...
Joel
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
The final score... Sprained ankle... Sigh...
Hello,
So, a perfect trip. I learned a lot about myself (as if I didn't know already that 90% of this stuff is mental and i'm so pig-headed that of course I can make it up anything...), about gear, etc., and I had a great time. Probably would have enjoyed it more with some constant company (ahem, my friends, that means some of you have to get off your butts!), but I eally had a good time. The excitement and exposure of the Western Breach, especialy after getting lost in the clouds, will stand out in my memory. Watching James, Babu, Joshua, and Simon climb crazy shit that their insane mazungu client lead them to, will also stick in my mind. Oh, and suffocating in the cater of the tallest free standing volcano in the wold will also, painfully, stay in my memory for a long time.
This was an excellent adventure and despite the high cost (relative scale, I talked to many mazungu on the mountain and I paid orders of magnitude less for my almost self-sufficient trip), I would do it again in a heartbeat. I know there are great mountains to climb in the US, in South America, Europe, etc., but Kili is an interesting place, and I'd love to show it to my friends.
Now, back to Day 8. My muscles were sore from Day 7. James and I jogged much of the way from the peak to 3100 meters - decending by jogging more total distance than you can find almost anywhre in the continental 48 states. My thighs and knees were beat to heck. I mean they felt like mush.
So on Day 8, when we had about 2000 meters to descend, I knew it would be easy but painful. Well... The surface was slick mud and while not thaaaat bad, weak muscles conspired. I rolled my ankle pretty good and heard a slight crunching noise. Ouch! I tested the ankle and it felt fine, but weak. I continued along, and Of Course, I rolled it two more times before the end. Now, as Turtle will attest, I don't believe in sprained ankles. Oh wah, you stretched the tendons and ligaments, stop complaining and get on with it. So of couse I assumed that my superhumansuperflexible body would take care of things.
I got to my crappy Arusha hotel and took a shower. Odd... I had dirt engraved into the left pointy-bone of my left ankle. Engraved! As in, when I rolled my ankle, the pointy bone at the outside of the ankle hit dirt hard enough to embed that crap into the ankle skin. Wow, lots of roll. Oh well.
I sat on my bed and emailed for an hour or two, waiting for my friend to show up. When h messaged that he was here, I stood up and fell back onto the bed. What?!?! Maybe one of the multitude of roaches or other bugs bit my ankle to make it hurt that bad? I stood up again. Nope, no bugs, it's the fact that my left ankle is 3x the size of my right that appears to be the problem. Sigh...
Now I know how Turtle mnanged to walk most of Tenaya with a sprained ankle. The body, like me, doesn't believe in them and doesn't create pain until the ankle becomes as big as a thigh. Stupid body... Argh. I would have borrowed a walking pole and not abused the heck out of the ankle if only my body had let me know...
OK, body, you have 2 days to heal and then we're climbing a much harder mountain than this wussy ankle twisting 19k peak!
Erf!
At least I scheduled 2 days recovey time and no porters to carry my crap :D
Joel
So, a perfect trip. I learned a lot about myself (as if I didn't know already that 90% of this stuff is mental and i'm so pig-headed that of course I can make it up anything...), about gear, etc., and I had a great time. Probably would have enjoyed it more with some constant company (ahem, my friends, that means some of you have to get off your butts!), but I eally had a good time. The excitement and exposure of the Western Breach, especialy after getting lost in the clouds, will stand out in my memory. Watching James, Babu, Joshua, and Simon climb crazy shit that their insane mazungu client lead them to, will also stick in my mind. Oh, and suffocating in the cater of the tallest free standing volcano in the wold will also, painfully, stay in my memory for a long time.
This was an excellent adventure and despite the high cost (relative scale, I talked to many mazungu on the mountain and I paid orders of magnitude less for my almost self-sufficient trip), I would do it again in a heartbeat. I know there are great mountains to climb in the US, in South America, Europe, etc., but Kili is an interesting place, and I'd love to show it to my friends.
Now, back to Day 8. My muscles were sore from Day 7. James and I jogged much of the way from the peak to 3100 meters - decending by jogging more total distance than you can find almost anywhre in the continental 48 states. My thighs and knees were beat to heck. I mean they felt like mush.
So on Day 8, when we had about 2000 meters to descend, I knew it would be easy but painful. Well... The surface was slick mud and while not thaaaat bad, weak muscles conspired. I rolled my ankle pretty good and heard a slight crunching noise. Ouch! I tested the ankle and it felt fine, but weak. I continued along, and Of Course, I rolled it two more times before the end. Now, as Turtle will attest, I don't believe in sprained ankles. Oh wah, you stretched the tendons and ligaments, stop complaining and get on with it. So of couse I assumed that my superhumansuperflexible body would take care of things.
I got to my crappy Arusha hotel and took a shower. Odd... I had dirt engraved into the left pointy-bone of my left ankle. Engraved! As in, when I rolled my ankle, the pointy bone at the outside of the ankle hit dirt hard enough to embed that crap into the ankle skin. Wow, lots of roll. Oh well.
I sat on my bed and emailed for an hour or two, waiting for my friend to show up. When h messaged that he was here, I stood up and fell back onto the bed. What?!?! Maybe one of the multitude of roaches or other bugs bit my ankle to make it hurt that bad? I stood up again. Nope, no bugs, it's the fact that my left ankle is 3x the size of my right that appears to be the problem. Sigh...
Now I know how Turtle mnanged to walk most of Tenaya with a sprained ankle. The body, like me, doesn't believe in them and doesn't create pain until the ankle becomes as big as a thigh. Stupid body... Argh. I would have borrowed a walking pole and not abused the heck out of the ankle if only my body had let me know...
OK, body, you have 2 days to heal and then we're climbing a much harder mountain than this wussy ankle twisting 19k peak!
Erf!
At least I scheduled 2 days recovey time and no porters to carry my crap :D
Joel
Off Kili
Hello,
The last day of the hike is almost not worth mentioning. Last night, we camped right above the rain forest, so it rained on us. Got up this AM and walked a steep dirt trail that eventually became a road and walked out of the park. Well, and got the cheesiest 'certificate' of completion (looks like a 3rd grader could make it).
Nothing much to say other than that... I'll post closing thoughts later, my battery is dying now.
I'm in Arusha and at 7:30am, I'm bussing to Nairobi. Yay, more 3rd world busses! Hahahah... I wonder what would happen if you put you average 3rd world bus driver on a race track...
Joel
The last day of the hike is almost not worth mentioning. Last night, we camped right above the rain forest, so it rained on us. Got up this AM and walked a steep dirt trail that eventually became a road and walked out of the park. Well, and got the cheesiest 'certificate' of completion (looks like a 3rd grader could make it).
Nothing much to say other than that... I'll post closing thoughts later, my battery is dying now.
I'm in Arusha and at 7:30am, I'm bussing to Nairobi. Yay, more 3rd world busses! Hahahah... I wonder what would happen if you put you average 3rd world bus driver on a race track...
Joel
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Day 7 - Crater to Summit to Mweka camp
Hey,
So picking up where I left off... It was *COLD* before sun-up. So cold, in fact, that I decided lots of hot tea was more important than catching the sunrise esp since my camera does nothing well but document stuff (its a full moon, the most picturesque time of every day is night when the clouds clear and there's a perfect view of Kili and her glaciers lit up by the moon, stars in the background inches off the sides of the mountain, or all the towns slightly lit by 3rd World low level lighting. All that stuff comes out as pure black with the Oly Stylus 1050.).
We drink up tea and head out. Knowing that we have some rocks to negotiate, I don the trusty 5.10s. BIG MISTAKE. I take 10 steps on the permafrost and my toes start to freeze. I assume they'll recover as the blood starts flowing (that's how its been for the last couple days). Nope. As we climb, I feel stronger and stronger. 1000 ft above the crater floor, I'm back to being ready to run a marathon. Damn, it must really have been sulfer or something because 1000 ft up should have thinned the air, not made me feel strong.
Strong as I feel, I'm starting to panic. I've lost al sensation in the left thumb toe, and the next two are feeling frozen. Also, the pad of my foot is starting to freeze. On the right foot, its my pinky toe that goes first, then the 4th and then the 3rd that start to freeze. It dawns on me that the problem isn't the fact that its hell-frozen-over cold, it's the damn tunda we're walking on. In that case, the thicker running shoes will help even though they flow air like there's no tomorrow. I also have one of those heat pads (air activated) for emergencies. I sit on a frozen rock, pull off a shoe and the outside socks down to the skin-layer sock, and stick the heat pad on the sock under my pad. The nice freezing wind isn't helping, but I have 0% sensation in my thumb toe. The rest, on both feet, hurt. Pain is good, no feeling at all is frozen. I smack the feet to get circulation and don the runners. We pass the summit sign, take a couple pics, and start running. I tell James we have to book to (1) get blood flowing in my toe or (2) find someone with hot water in which case, I can do an assessment of my toe and if its not actually frozen tissue (it wasn't hard as a rock, just zero sensation) then I can warm it with 100 deg F water. We take off down the mountain and get to the first camp in 90 minutes. OH, I forgot to mention, my crew aside from my guide skipped the summit, hitting Gilman Point without going over the top. We caught them as we entered Barafu camp. My feet were no longer cold. At all. I was drenched with sweat.
We moved to a good spot and I saw a group of whitey, so I dropped pack where my guys were going to make breakfast, and jumped down the rocks to say hello. Chatted fo a couple minutes and wished them luck and then ran up to the rocks and jumped up them back to my guys. I overheard 'how could he go up the rocks as fast as he went down them?' A few minutes later, they passed by with the typical (infuriatingly slow) polepole walk (if I had to guess, it's under 1mph on flat, smooth trail).
We headed down some more and I took pics of how terrible the trail was - will post later. What a long day - we climbed over 1000 ft and then decended over 9000 ft. I think that's like coming down from the summit of Whitney and continuing to Lone Pine, except 5000 ft higher. Yes, my knees are destroyed and my quads aren't talking to me. Or rather, they're screaming at me.
Ok, time to find signal. Once again, all the vodacom folks have perfect signal.
Joel
So picking up where I left off... It was *COLD* before sun-up. So cold, in fact, that I decided lots of hot tea was more important than catching the sunrise esp since my camera does nothing well but document stuff (its a full moon, the most picturesque time of every day is night when the clouds clear and there's a perfect view of Kili and her glaciers lit up by the moon, stars in the background inches off the sides of the mountain, or all the towns slightly lit by 3rd World low level lighting. All that stuff comes out as pure black with the Oly Stylus 1050.).
We drink up tea and head out. Knowing that we have some rocks to negotiate, I don the trusty 5.10s. BIG MISTAKE. I take 10 steps on the permafrost and my toes start to freeze. I assume they'll recover as the blood starts flowing (that's how its been for the last couple days). Nope. As we climb, I feel stronger and stronger. 1000 ft above the crater floor, I'm back to being ready to run a marathon. Damn, it must really have been sulfer or something because 1000 ft up should have thinned the air, not made me feel strong.
Strong as I feel, I'm starting to panic. I've lost al sensation in the left thumb toe, and the next two are feeling frozen. Also, the pad of my foot is starting to freeze. On the right foot, its my pinky toe that goes first, then the 4th and then the 3rd that start to freeze. It dawns on me that the problem isn't the fact that its hell-frozen-over cold, it's the damn tunda we're walking on. In that case, the thicker running shoes will help even though they flow air like there's no tomorrow. I also have one of those heat pads (air activated) for emergencies. I sit on a frozen rock, pull off a shoe and the outside socks down to the skin-layer sock, and stick the heat pad on the sock under my pad. The nice freezing wind isn't helping, but I have 0% sensation in my thumb toe. The rest, on both feet, hurt. Pain is good, no feeling at all is frozen. I smack the feet to get circulation and don the runners. We pass the summit sign, take a couple pics, and start running. I tell James we have to book to (1) get blood flowing in my toe or (2) find someone with hot water in which case, I can do an assessment of my toe and if its not actually frozen tissue (it wasn't hard as a rock, just zero sensation) then I can warm it with 100 deg F water. We take off down the mountain and get to the first camp in 90 minutes. OH, I forgot to mention, my crew aside from my guide skipped the summit, hitting Gilman Point without going over the top. We caught them as we entered Barafu camp. My feet were no longer cold. At all. I was drenched with sweat.
We moved to a good spot and I saw a group of whitey, so I dropped pack where my guys were going to make breakfast, and jumped down the rocks to say hello. Chatted fo a couple minutes and wished them luck and then ran up to the rocks and jumped up them back to my guys. I overheard 'how could he go up the rocks as fast as he went down them?' A few minutes later, they passed by with the typical (infuriatingly slow) polepole walk (if I had to guess, it's under 1mph on flat, smooth trail).
We headed down some more and I took pics of how terrible the trail was - will post later. What a long day - we climbed over 1000 ft and then decended over 9000 ft. I think that's like coming down from the summit of Whitney and continuing to Lone Pine, except 5000 ft higher. Yes, my knees are destroyed and my quads aren't talking to me. Or rather, they're screaming at me.
Ok, time to find signal. Once again, all the vodacom folks have perfect signal.
Joel
Day 6 adendum...
Hey,
Might as well start with what I missed last night in the cold. 15.x to 18.x thousand feet. All previous days were easy and almost boring. Not so, day 6! We had about 2500 ft of gain and at the easiest, it was class 3. At the hardest... Well, more on the 5.3 free solo later.
We started off on a very enjoyable scramble reaching for some pretty lofty, but cloud covered goals. Hmm, I guess I could have said we were reaching for the clouds... Anyway, this trip and the constant clouds and constant rain at low altitudes (I'm writing this at 3100 m in a dumping rain storm) tells me that next time, we avoid the rainy season like the plague! I'd rather compete with the hordes of tourists than NOT SEE ANYTHING!
Back to the story. We were scrambling good class 3/4, so of course the team gave up on reminding me of pole pole (slowly). We came upon a part of the route that climbed sharply but it looked like an ice cascade, not something that a bunch of guys in 15 yr old leather boots and a jackhole in well worn 5.10 approach shoes should be messing with. James scouted another route and got stuck 3 ft off the trail. But his judgement seemed good, so I took over. I scrambled onto the route and started cimbing. It was very sustained, technical climbing, made difficult by the lack of oxygen, the 33 lbs of pack (long story short, the guy the porters in several companies have taken to calling commando muzungu, took lunch food and a thermos full of hot tea in addition to the standard 14 kg pack I carry), the break-away nature of the rock (think crappy Pinnacles rock), etc. It felt like 5.7, but I tend to over rate climbs under adverse conditions and it certainly wasn't class 4 with about 100 ft of non-stop moves.
As I finished, I looked back and Joshua (cook) was half-way up and positive that he could move no further. I found a rock to park my pack against and I dropped down the climb to meet him. He looked a bit scared and wanted a hand so I braced mysel and reached out. Three assists later, he cleared the route. He only "wore" a backpack, no porter load, and he was sure the porters couldn't make it, and we knew James couldn't. I scouted more routes and found what looked ideal. Sustained Class 4/5.0. Meanwhile James (guide, so no porter load either) found a route that he could make it up.
I dropped down the 5.0 I found and met Simon. I grabbed the 22~25 kg bag (varies by food/trash/gas, etc) off his neck and immediately wondered not only whether it was humanly posible to climb today's route with that load on your neck plus about 15~20 kg of your personal needs in a backpack, but also if I could manage to be helpful! Holy crap! I took the load, stuck it against the wall, made a move or three, hauled the bag up, repeat until we made it about 100 ft up... Back onto the "trail". Babu, carrying a similar load, but having been climbing the mountain for 20+ years, as many as 20 times a year, remembered an alternate route and went after that. James and Joshua maintained position with Babu and sent me to follow Simon. Well...
Simon didn't know where to go any more than I did. Look around for trail and follow it. Argh. After a while, I remarked that the scree we were on was getting close to vertical and it felt unsafe. About 5 minutes later, about a football field to our right, James, Joshua, and Babu called out to us: we were way off track. Crap! Crossing 100 yards of near vertical scree is not... Crapcrap, there goes Simon. He went for a 60 meter slide and came to a stop uninjured among some big boulders. Lucky for him, those boulders also provided a reasonable way to cross the scree I decided NOT to test my luck by seeing if I could survive the 200 ft slide of death, so I continued to make slow progress. Some places, nothing stuck and you couldn't 'press' into the wall to prevent slides. In those places, I controlled my slides with dug in hands and toes and aimed for likely suspects. Sometimes they tuned out to be just what I wanted, somwtimes they inceased my sliding mass. Exciting to say the least.
When I finally got to the finger of rock I was supposed to be on, it took a few hundred feet of class 4 to get onto the 'trail' which mixed class 3 and 4 for long distances.
Very awesome day and so far, by far, the most memorable, even if visibility was a hundred feet or less most of the time!
Reaching the crater was kinda anti-climactic. A big giant field of permafrost with the remnants of some big glaciers. We dropped gear and climbed the mountain in the middle of the crater (Hans Peak? - they all say its pronounced hash peak, so I guess I need to look it up) where we found a great view of a giant hole with a fearsome smell of sulfur.
Now that reminds me. I felt rock solid up the Western Beach. Best adventure in ages. Hard, but I was strong and could sprint when necessary, could shoot up a climb, could drag a 22kg bag while technical climbing, etc. BUT, a few hundred feet higher, in the crater, walking up a very non-steep, very easy climb, I felt wasted. I could barely move. I chalked it up to the end of adrenalin
But that night, frezing cold aside, I couldn't sleep and constantly awoke needing O2 desperately. The crew said the sulfer displaced a lot of the O2 and the effective amount of oxygen was really low. But... I smelled sulfer when we could see into the pit. I didn't smell it elsewhere in the crater.
I feel like I wrote already about the cold..Yes, f'ing cold. That comes into play on the summit bit...
Joel
Might as well start with what I missed last night in the cold. 15.x to 18.x thousand feet. All previous days were easy and almost boring. Not so, day 6! We had about 2500 ft of gain and at the easiest, it was class 3. At the hardest... Well, more on the 5.3 free solo later.
We started off on a very enjoyable scramble reaching for some pretty lofty, but cloud covered goals. Hmm, I guess I could have said we were reaching for the clouds... Anyway, this trip and the constant clouds and constant rain at low altitudes (I'm writing this at 3100 m in a dumping rain storm) tells me that next time, we avoid the rainy season like the plague! I'd rather compete with the hordes of tourists than NOT SEE ANYTHING!
Back to the story. We were scrambling good class 3/4, so of course the team gave up on reminding me of pole pole (slowly). We came upon a part of the route that climbed sharply but it looked like an ice cascade, not something that a bunch of guys in 15 yr old leather boots and a jackhole in well worn 5.10 approach shoes should be messing with. James scouted another route and got stuck 3 ft off the trail. But his judgement seemed good, so I took over. I scrambled onto the route and started cimbing. It was very sustained, technical climbing, made difficult by the lack of oxygen, the 33 lbs of pack (long story short, the guy the porters in several companies have taken to calling commando muzungu, took lunch food and a thermos full of hot tea in addition to the standard 14 kg pack I carry), the break-away nature of the rock (think crappy Pinnacles rock), etc. It felt like 5.7, but I tend to over rate climbs under adverse conditions and it certainly wasn't class 4 with about 100 ft of non-stop moves.
As I finished, I looked back and Joshua (cook) was half-way up and positive that he could move no further. I found a rock to park my pack against and I dropped down the climb to meet him. He looked a bit scared and wanted a hand so I braced mysel and reached out. Three assists later, he cleared the route. He only "wore" a backpack, no porter load, and he was sure the porters couldn't make it, and we knew James couldn't. I scouted more routes and found what looked ideal. Sustained Class 4/5.0. Meanwhile James (guide, so no porter load either) found a route that he could make it up.
I dropped down the 5.0 I found and met Simon. I grabbed the 22~25 kg bag (varies by food/trash/gas, etc) off his neck and immediately wondered not only whether it was humanly posible to climb today's route with that load on your neck plus about 15~20 kg of your personal needs in a backpack, but also if I could manage to be helpful! Holy crap! I took the load, stuck it against the wall, made a move or three, hauled the bag up, repeat until we made it about 100 ft up... Back onto the "trail". Babu, carrying a similar load, but having been climbing the mountain for 20+ years, as many as 20 times a year, remembered an alternate route and went after that. James and Joshua maintained position with Babu and sent me to follow Simon. Well...
Simon didn't know where to go any more than I did. Look around for trail and follow it. Argh. After a while, I remarked that the scree we were on was getting close to vertical and it felt unsafe. About 5 minutes later, about a football field to our right, James, Joshua, and Babu called out to us: we were way off track. Crap! Crossing 100 yards of near vertical scree is not... Crapcrap, there goes Simon. He went for a 60 meter slide and came to a stop uninjured among some big boulders. Lucky for him, those boulders also provided a reasonable way to cross the scree I decided NOT to test my luck by seeing if I could survive the 200 ft slide of death, so I continued to make slow progress. Some places, nothing stuck and you couldn't 'press' into the wall to prevent slides. In those places, I controlled my slides with dug in hands and toes and aimed for likely suspects. Sometimes they tuned out to be just what I wanted, somwtimes they inceased my sliding mass. Exciting to say the least.
When I finally got to the finger of rock I was supposed to be on, it took a few hundred feet of class 4 to get onto the 'trail' which mixed class 3 and 4 for long distances.
Very awesome day and so far, by far, the most memorable, even if visibility was a hundred feet or less most of the time!
Reaching the crater was kinda anti-climactic. A big giant field of permafrost with the remnants of some big glaciers. We dropped gear and climbed the mountain in the middle of the crater (Hans Peak? - they all say its pronounced hash peak, so I guess I need to look it up) where we found a great view of a giant hole with a fearsome smell of sulfur.
Now that reminds me. I felt rock solid up the Western Beach. Best adventure in ages. Hard, but I was strong and could sprint when necessary, could shoot up a climb, could drag a 22kg bag while technical climbing, etc. BUT, a few hundred feet higher, in the crater, walking up a very non-steep, very easy climb, I felt wasted. I could barely move. I chalked it up to the end of adrenalin
But that night, frezing cold aside, I couldn't sleep and constantly awoke needing O2 desperately. The crew said the sulfer displaced a lot of the O2 and the effective amount of oxygen was really low. But... I smelled sulfer when we could see into the pit. I didn't smell it elsewhere in the crater.
I feel like I wrote already about the cold..Yes, f'ing cold. That comes into play on the summit bit...
Joel
Day 6- holy crap!
The Western Breach.
I do not recommend this route to casual tourists especially at a fringe season. This is a route.. Exposure, climbing moves, scree with good long death slides, etc
Ok, I givee up writing. More later. I'm in mmmy sleeping bag with everything on. Down jacket included. The soft sand turned rock hard within seconds of falling in the shade. My fingers froze so fast it tookk 30 mins to set up my 2 min setup bivy. It took alnost an hour to boil a pot of water b/c the gas is so cold. If I had to guess, based on my experience, -10 F no wind right now. Spit doesn't freeZe in the air but it does within a few seconds of hitting the ground.
This is an f'ing cold end to an f'ing cold but freaking awesome day. Highlights include a half pitch free solo 5.3 at 17k, significant class 4 / 5.0 sustained at 18k, all because the correct route was completely snow and ice covered, thick and slick...
Good night, no signal here, more tomorrow.
Joel
I do not recommend this route to casual tourists especially at a fringe season. This is a route.. Exposure, climbing moves, scree with good long death slides, etc
Ok, I givee up writing. More later. I'm in mmmy sleeping bag with everything on. Down jacket included. The soft sand turned rock hard within seconds of falling in the shade. My fingers froze so fast it tookk 30 mins to set up my 2 min setup bivy. It took alnost an hour to boil a pot of water b/c the gas is so cold. If I had to guess, based on my experience, -10 F no wind right now. Spit doesn't freeZe in the air but it does within a few seconds of hitting the ground.
This is an f'ing cold end to an f'ing cold but freaking awesome day. Highlights include a half pitch free solo 5.3 at 17k, significant class 4 / 5.0 sustained at 18k, all because the correct route was completely snow and ice covered, thick and slick...
Good night, no signal here, more tomorrow.
Joel
Interesting situation... 2 of 4 porters are showing signs of AMS
Hello,
Dunno when I'll brave the elements next, but I thought i'd share this. Babu (or Mzee which mean "grandpa" or "old man" respectively, because he's 43, real name is Gerald) has a strong headache and a desire to do nothing more than sleep. Simon is not as bad, but has a throbbing headache. Simon was willing to take my aspirin, Babu still resists. Since we will have dinner soon, he wants to see if that makes him better. Heh, in a funny role reversal, it's the muzungu who is insisting that the porters drink more fluids - warm water or tea (warm because its freezing and I don't think we should waste energy warming cold liquids in our stomachs).
Babu decided to show he is fine by doing a water run - its about 8 minutes away to the runoff from the glacier which should be making water still since we've occaisionally seen sun on the upper reaches of the mountain. Ahh, he made it back... And brought water with him.
Just btw, I feel great. When I arrived at Arrow Glacier Camp, I developed a slight headache that immediately subsided with two cups of tea. I'm quite surprised how little effect the altitude is having, given how messed up I get at 14k ft in California. I guess I owe it all to Diamox, the best drug ever!
Babu feels better after eating, but we'll see how things go tomorrow. I suggested that anyone not feeling well should meet us not tomorrow, but the day after (lower altitude, they'll be able to sleep in porter huts), and we'll just take pre-made food (lunch boxes) up to the crater.
More tomorrow, I suppose!
Hmm, bored, sitting in the tent with the porters. One of the porters called his girlfriend of over 3 years (damnit, vodacom has way better signal than zain) and a dude answered. The porter (name withheld for his sake) asked 'who are you' (duh, in Swahili) and the guy hung up. The porter said he trusts his girlfriend, and meanwhile, the rest of the crew said no way, she's cheating. So he called back and she answered. She explained that she left her phone out and some stranger answered it (err... Come up with a better story, sheesh). Here in the tent, his sim ran out of money, so he scrambled to transfer credit from one of the other guys. A quick call back and the dude answered again. Another call back and the girlfriend answered and my crewmate said 'have fun with your boyfriend, we're over.' She laughed at him and said she was already spending her time with her new boyfriend.
Kinda sucks to happen while you're 16k ft up... What makes it worse here in Africa is the prevelence of AIDS. The crewmate is now concerned about his own health. Also, the dating process takes on a strange new ritual because of this disease. First, the guys have a 6-month break rule so they don't rush into something stupidly. Then, you get to know a girl well enough that you feel confident that you understand her sex life. If it seems safe, then you go get tested for AIDS together...
OK, last night my plan was to search for signal before heading to my bivy (found it last night, read mail, but couldn't send this for some reason...) and crawl into my vapor barier (over wool clothes, which I did until I was completely sweaty from the waist down... Warm at least, then slid the barrier down) and stuff the down jacket in my biggest drybag so worst comes to worst, its dry and fluffy.
Well, the problem with the plan is my head. I went to bed with a wool hat and a nylon hat but my face froze. I made the always regrettable decision to favor immediate warmth over dryness and zipped the vent mostly closed. Not enough. I pulled the drawstring on the bag all the way to 1" open, and the air coming in that was too cold. Argh. So I curled up a little, making my head come below the shoulder girth of the bag. This woked for warmth but gave me some claustrophobia responses... I also ran out of good air and had to cause cold air to enter the bag every couple hours.
Hmm. I need to learn what others do in such extreme cold, because people sleep in much colder places than this! How do you heat the face air? I think the bivy is part of the problem. There is no warmed air around me - right above my face is the only vent. Last night, anything wet we put in the foyer part of the tent (covered by the rainfly but outside the very breathable tent) froze quickly, but water, even small amounts, inside the tent (3/4 season LaFuma 3-4 person tent, woefully inadequate for the rain - had they known it would rain that first night, they said they would have brought the much heavier waterproof tent they have) stayed liquid. Mayhaps the bivy should remain an above freezing device? But it's also not a great rain device. So above freezing and good weather device? Might as well get a lighter bivy...
Joel, getting out of bed now, will look for signal to send this...
Dunno when I'll brave the elements next, but I thought i'd share this. Babu (or Mzee which mean "grandpa" or "old man" respectively, because he's 43, real name is Gerald) has a strong headache and a desire to do nothing more than sleep. Simon is not as bad, but has a throbbing headache. Simon was willing to take my aspirin, Babu still resists. Since we will have dinner soon, he wants to see if that makes him better. Heh, in a funny role reversal, it's the muzungu who is insisting that the porters drink more fluids - warm water or tea (warm because its freezing and I don't think we should waste energy warming cold liquids in our stomachs).
Babu decided to show he is fine by doing a water run - its about 8 minutes away to the runoff from the glacier which should be making water still since we've occaisionally seen sun on the upper reaches of the mountain. Ahh, he made it back... And brought water with him.
Just btw, I feel great. When I arrived at Arrow Glacier Camp, I developed a slight headache that immediately subsided with two cups of tea. I'm quite surprised how little effect the altitude is having, given how messed up I get at 14k ft in California. I guess I owe it all to Diamox, the best drug ever!
Babu feels better after eating, but we'll see how things go tomorrow. I suggested that anyone not feeling well should meet us not tomorrow, but the day after (lower altitude, they'll be able to sleep in porter huts), and we'll just take pre-made food (lunch boxes) up to the crater.
More tomorrow, I suppose!
Hmm, bored, sitting in the tent with the porters. One of the porters called his girlfriend of over 3 years (damnit, vodacom has way better signal than zain) and a dude answered. The porter (name withheld for his sake) asked 'who are you' (duh, in Swahili) and the guy hung up. The porter said he trusts his girlfriend, and meanwhile, the rest of the crew said no way, she's cheating. So he called back and she answered. She explained that she left her phone out and some stranger answered it (err... Come up with a better story, sheesh). Here in the tent, his sim ran out of money, so he scrambled to transfer credit from one of the other guys. A quick call back and the dude answered again. Another call back and the girlfriend answered and my crewmate said 'have fun with your boyfriend, we're over.' She laughed at him and said she was already spending her time with her new boyfriend.
Kinda sucks to happen while you're 16k ft up... What makes it worse here in Africa is the prevelence of AIDS. The crewmate is now concerned about his own health. Also, the dating process takes on a strange new ritual because of this disease. First, the guys have a 6-month break rule so they don't rush into something stupidly. Then, you get to know a girl well enough that you feel confident that you understand her sex life. If it seems safe, then you go get tested for AIDS together...
OK, last night my plan was to search for signal before heading to my bivy (found it last night, read mail, but couldn't send this for some reason...) and crawl into my vapor barier (over wool clothes, which I did until I was completely sweaty from the waist down... Warm at least, then slid the barrier down) and stuff the down jacket in my biggest drybag so worst comes to worst, its dry and fluffy.
Well, the problem with the plan is my head. I went to bed with a wool hat and a nylon hat but my face froze. I made the always regrettable decision to favor immediate warmth over dryness and zipped the vent mostly closed. Not enough. I pulled the drawstring on the bag all the way to 1" open, and the air coming in that was too cold. Argh. So I curled up a little, making my head come below the shoulder girth of the bag. This woked for warmth but gave me some claustrophobia responses... I also ran out of good air and had to cause cold air to enter the bag every couple hours.
Hmm. I need to learn what others do in such extreme cold, because people sleep in much colder places than this! How do you heat the face air? I think the bivy is part of the problem. There is no warmed air around me - right above my face is the only vent. Last night, anything wet we put in the foyer part of the tent (covered by the rainfly but outside the very breathable tent) froze quickly, but water, even small amounts, inside the tent (3/4 season LaFuma 3-4 person tent, woefully inadequate for the rain - had they known it would rain that first night, they said they would have brought the much heavier waterproof tent they have) stayed liquid. Mayhaps the bivy should remain an above freezing device? But it's also not a great rain device. So above freezing and good weather device? Might as well get a lighter bivy...
Joel, getting out of bed now, will look for signal to send this...
Damn White Necked (Ringed?) Ravens
Hey,
They're everywhere and I haven't really cared, but this AM while drinking coffee in the main tent, we heard a bad noise. I ran out to find a stupid raven tearing through my gear. I'd left the bivy cracked open for better venting/drying. There's a poke mark where the raven nipped the screen and then he got the zipper and opened the bivvy all the way. He'd removed my gloves and dry bags and was tearing through my toiletries bag. He'd already pulled out my lenses. Unfortunatley, I ran out with not enough clothes, so I tossed everything back in, and put some big rocks on top to keep it secure. Then I ran into the tent, no pics.
No luck with sun today - it's 9:15am and we have total cloud coverage and strong winds. I would guess about 10 degrees F right now, windchill, since I have only my skin to guage. All wet stuff even in the light is still frozen solid - unusual for this trip. Mornings after 8 am are usually reasonable. We're going to get a slightly late start to maximize temps and give everyone a chance to hydrate. Everyone claims to be feeling well..
OH, lenses reminds me - since day 2, I've given up on lenses. I'm way too filthy to be sticking lenses on. So I'm wearingmy glasses. They darken in bright light and surprising to me, they get as dark as dark sunglasses. Unfortunately, they allow a lot of light around them - they ain't glacier glasses. If I take a snow-bound trip, I'll want surgery or prescription inserts for some good wrap-around glasses. I like having vision all the time and no need to clean hands in ice solid water all the time... Plus my eyes feel nice and relaxed.
After this trip and before I forget, I should take notes on all my gear. I'm learning a lot.
Joel
They're everywhere and I haven't really cared, but this AM while drinking coffee in the main tent, we heard a bad noise. I ran out to find a stupid raven tearing through my gear. I'd left the bivy cracked open for better venting/drying. There's a poke mark where the raven nipped the screen and then he got the zipper and opened the bivvy all the way. He'd removed my gloves and dry bags and was tearing through my toiletries bag. He'd already pulled out my lenses. Unfortunatley, I ran out with not enough clothes, so I tossed everything back in, and put some big rocks on top to keep it secure. Then I ran into the tent, no pics.
No luck with sun today - it's 9:15am and we have total cloud coverage and strong winds. I would guess about 10 degrees F right now, windchill, since I have only my skin to guage. All wet stuff even in the light is still frozen solid - unusual for this trip. Mornings after 8 am are usually reasonable. We're going to get a slightly late start to maximize temps and give everyone a chance to hydrate. Everyone claims to be feeling well..
OH, lenses reminds me - since day 2, I've given up on lenses. I'm way too filthy to be sticking lenses on. So I'm wearingmy glasses. They darken in bright light and surprising to me, they get as dark as dark sunglasses. Unfortunately, they allow a lot of light around them - they ain't glacier glasses. If I take a snow-bound trip, I'll want surgery or prescription inserts for some good wrap-around glasses. I like having vision all the time and no need to clean hands in ice solid water all the time... Plus my eyes feel nice and relaxed.
After this trip and before I forget, I should take notes on all my gear. I'm learning a lot.
Joel
Sunday, March 8, 2009
I lied... Its f'ing cold.
I froze in about 2 minutes outside.
Now if I had to guess, I'd put it at about -15 - 0F (-26 - -18C, which my team agrees to). Tonight is going to be cold - if it drops another 10-15 degrees, and the wind picks up, it will certainly test my gear to the limit!
Oh, and while I was sending the last emails, for lack of a better way to describe it, my phone's screen froze? I poked it with my fat gloved hand and I lost about 2% of the pixels a shape that looks like an old school rooftop tv antenna. Dunno how i'm going to send this since I need to walk around with the phone exposed to see where I have signal. Maybe find signal and then shove the phone in my pants for aminute, then hit send? I'm in the group tent right now...
All but one of the guys is passed out and the one is looking for a radio station, something he does all the time, every day. Crap, it just started snowing (hailing? Heavy, hard sounding snow).
Joel, wishing I never described the weather as fair!
Day 4, 5 - Shira 2, Lava Tower, Arrow Glacier Camp
There isn't much to say about that relatively easy day. I had no good pictures of the camp, though, and I was able to snap one from the spire I scrambled up today at Arrow Glacier Camp Zoom in and you can see a bunch of tents and bathrooms, with a lava tower to the left. That's the camp I was at and that is the spire I climbed for good signal yesterday. Turns out there's an easy class 2/3 route up it, I didn't have to make it as hard as I made it (duh, eh?).
The one weird thing yesterday was being at the highest point I'd ever been at, knowing I had another vertical mile to ascend. Now that I'm at Arrow Glacier Camp, it's still daunting to look up at the Breach 2500 feet above. Tomorrow will be a tough day...
Joel
Temperature...
Hey,
One thing I realized I haven't talked much about, is the weather. If you recall, I awoke to frost at Shira 1. From that point on, of course, the temps kept dropping. Last night, a bowl of soapy water (that I washed my feet and socks in) froze solid, as did a bowl of cooking water (full o salt, oil, etc). The night was very cold and a couple layers of wool in the bivy and 0-degree F sleeping bag was not enough. I got pretty chilly. Tonight, I will be sleeping in all my wool and I'll keep the down jacket available. I'm also going to keep the vapor barrier in the bag with me. I know that setup had me toasty in colder situations on the JMT.
During the day, the temp hovers a bit below freezing at 14k ft and above. I don't have a thermometer, but water left out in the shade or under cloud cover turns to ice pretty quickly, but that same ice, moved into the brutal sun melts just as quickly. What's that mean re temp? Well, since it is cloudy 90% of the time, it means its damn cold, right up until you pull on all your layers. Then the sun comes out and makes you sweat buckets!
Speaking of which, of course, I'm sun burnt. A little on my face and on the backs of my hands. And my lower lip. Though I can't tell if that's actual sun or just freezing wind burnt...
Joel
One thing I realized I haven't talked much about, is the weather. If you recall, I awoke to frost at Shira 1. From that point on, of course, the temps kept dropping. Last night, a bowl of soapy water (that I washed my feet and socks in) froze solid, as did a bowl of cooking water (full o salt, oil, etc). The night was very cold and a couple layers of wool in the bivy and 0-degree F sleeping bag was not enough. I got pretty chilly. Tonight, I will be sleeping in all my wool and I'll keep the down jacket available. I'm also going to keep the vapor barrier in the bag with me. I know that setup had me toasty in colder situations on the JMT.
During the day, the temp hovers a bit below freezing at 14k ft and above. I don't have a thermometer, but water left out in the shade or under cloud cover turns to ice pretty quickly, but that same ice, moved into the brutal sun melts just as quickly. What's that mean re temp? Well, since it is cloudy 90% of the time, it means its damn cold, right up until you pull on all your layers. Then the sun comes out and makes you sweat buckets!
Speaking of which, of course, I'm sun burnt. A little on my face and on the backs of my hands. And my lower lip. Though I can't tell if that's actual sun or just freezing wind burnt...
Joel
The daunting view from Lava Tower Camp to the Western Breach
Here you can see the barren wasteland looking area around Lava Camp and the Western Breach and Kibo summit of Kili a mile above me. The sun was causing crazy glare on the lens no matter how I blocked it, unless I stuck my hand in the FOV, so that's what you see..
Joel
Clouds parted! Arrow Glacier Camp!
I'm freezing right now. Just spent 15 mins on a spire at about 16k ft to get signal. Was going to put up some psts but i'll do that later, when my fingers recover. Anyway, while I was here, the clouds parted and I got this shot of Arrow Glacier and the Western Breach. Looks like a lot of climbing for tomorrow!
Joel
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