Day 3 on Kilimanjaro

Never a good sign when there are rainbows at breakfast.

Day 3 camp is already set up when we arrive.

The clouds started breaking up in the evening. That’s the famous icicle in the book The Breach. The first ascent of which was ultimately done by Reinhold Messner.

Evening light on the 6000′ Breach wall.

The lights of the town of Moshi, 10,000 vertical feet below.

A rare outdoor breakfast… Beats being inside the damp dining tent.

No direct sunshine yet…

Ahh, finally. Too bad our guides are telling us to pack up and go…

(Here’s day 3 alternate version. Tom has predictably bad cell service so he sent the above via text and the below via email, I’m not sure which I’m supposed to post but they’re both interesting so for now I’m posting both – Alec)

I got up to pee at 4 am and had a fantastic view  of the mountain bathed in moonlight… my first view of the mountain from camp.  Unfortunately, when I emerged from the tent again at 6:30, we were all back in clouds.  It’s too bad because the views would have been amazing this day.  From  our camp 2 at 12,600”, we hiked up another inclined plane up to a mini saddle at 15,200.  We’re now above timberline and the landscape was mostly a volcanic wasteland with occasional meadows that reminded us of the Scottish highlands… well a hypoxic Scottish highland.   At various points we would pass bizarre otherworldly vegetation to remind us that we’re still in Africa. Because of the mists, we could rarely see farther than a few hundred yards.

The 5 hour hike ended with an easy descent in light/moderate rain to the Baranco camp at 13,100’.  We both felt good and were moving fast which made me fear that we would beat the porters to the camp, but apparently they took a shorter route and our tents and a hot lunch were waiting for us.   Hallelujah.  Money well spent.

So far, our 16 member support team has been awesome.  The food has taken some getting used to, but we’re adapting, and it has always been served with love and enthusiasm.  I have to seriously wonder what sort of appetites their previous clients have had, as they give us mountains of food.  Even when we beg for smaller portions, we can’t finish it, and when Francis takes our uneaten food back to the kitchen tent, he doesn’t hide his disappointment like some sort of doting parent.  With that said, if we ever did eat that mountain of food and then he called us fat pigs, then all would be forgiven.  That would be hilarious. 

In Nepal, it’s easy to intuit how the porters are so strong, as they are born and raised in the mountains.  Here, nobody lives in the mountains.  They live on a flat plain that goes on as far as the eye can see at 3000’ above sea level.   There’s no geographic advantage here (although through dint of circumstance there might be a lot of competition, and I’ll leave it at that).  Some are super strong.  I was passed in descent today by a porter running down a loose trail wearing a backpack and  balancing another duffel on his head… no hands.  I pulled out my camera and started running down the trail to get a picture. 

Respect.

The porters here don’t use tumplines (?) like the Sherpas.  Rather, they wear a modest backpack and then balance another duffel on their head.  Ouch. 

That’s all for today.

Our guide Romli on day 3:

We’ve learned that these minor breaks in the morning mists usually presage rain. Scottish highlands, day 3.

Lunch!

Our crew singing a song to us before the day’s hike. I don’t think every group gets this treatment, but we’ve seen a couple of others, so it’s not just us.