Dsy One on the Mountain

Sunday February 10, 2013

      As is so true anytime a large group tries to do anything together – it's hurry up and wait. First we were to meet at 7:30, then it was 7 – so we showed up only to find out there was no meeting, just bring all your stuff down to the parking lot. Then it becomes take your stuff and go for breakfast, come back with all your gear after you eat so the trekking company can check out what you're planning to bring to ensure it's appropriate. We stood, and stood, and stood and finally loaded up, leaving at 9:11. Since we had planned on a 9:30 am departure, we were actually very, very early for African time.

      We were in two buses with a third empty bus. We stopped on the side of a highway in what I assume was a small town based on the number of people hanging about in their Sunday best and proceeded to pick up our porters for the trip. I'm not sure how they fit 100 guys onto that bus, but they must have done so, since that was about the number we ended up with. Each porter can carry 20kg plus his own gear up the mountain.

      It took about two hours to get to the departure point. My bus stopped for an "au naturel" pee break on the side of the road in some nice bushes, and the other bus stopped to pick up fresh meat for the trip. And no, it wasn't roadkill....I think....

      The drop off point is more waiting and waiting and waiting. We signed into the registration book and eventually got some boxed lunches to consume before starting off. What actually took so long is the dividing up and weighing of the gear. They have a large scale and all the baggage is weighed. They have it down to such a science that sometimes two cans of something will be removed from a bag and be replaced by a loaf of bread, or other similar changes.

      The porters pack everything into large woven plastic bags, tie the end shut and then place the bag on their head or on their shoulder/neck just above their back packs. The amount of gear being carried is incredible and not evenly shaped. One guy carries four tables that we will eat off of balanced on top of his head.

      There are 34 of us, and 104 porters and guides with us. They have to take everything we need up the mountain with us except water, which we get from streams at the campsites. That's a lot of food, tents, sleeping pads, chairs, propane tanks, stoves.....you get the idea how much stuff is going with us.

      These porters carry this gear and basically trot by us on their way up the mountain, all the while admonishing us to go “pole pole”, which means slowly, slowly. We need to go slow to give our bodies time to acclimatize and they need to go fast so they can have the camp set up by the time we get there.

      When we finally start up the mountain I get in last place in the line. I hate the thought of holding people up and figure the last place will be the safest for that. The path was wide and well packed down and I was able to chat with the guide. His name in English is “Living” and is something very similar meaning in Swahili – his dad wanted him to really live his life and named him appropriately. I learned about the 5 climate zones, the people who live in and maintain the park and in turn are able to farm the arable land near where they live. Corn, beans and something else are the most common crops around here. One of the villagers passed us with some plants under his arm, and Living stopped him and got one of the beans off the plant for me. It was about the size of a pea pod, but shaped more like green beans. It was reddish pink and the beans inside were white, similar to what we call Navy beans.

       We passed a "store" set up for the tourists along the side of the path that sold pop and a few snacks. The ground just past the store had a few plastic packages strewn around, which is unusual as this country has been very free of litter so far. These 2x3 inch flat envelopes of clear plastic hold poor mans' gin and can be purchased for about 500 Tanzanian shillings (TSH) which is about 30 cents Canadian. Rich guys can buy their gin in bottle but the poor man buys his like this.

      We hiked about 4 hours and the trail was gradual (every single trail was “gradual” according to the guides, which leads us to wonder if “gradual” is the only descriptive word they know or they are just laughing at us!)

     The campsite for the night is just a semi flat spot on the side of the mountain at a location called Simba or First Cave. Our tents are so crowded together I fell over the tie  down lines while going to the bathroom in the middle of the night. I twisted my ankle and woke the people inside the tent.

     Supper is served in one of three dining tents on tables, with table cloths and small camping "chairs" - which are so small only one of my butt cheeks can be on it at a time. Since the mountain is not flat at this point everyone gingerly sits around the table and tries to move as little as possible, otherwise we will all go down like stacked dominoes. We have a vegetarian tent and only one male vegetarian. We always make him sit at the downhill corner to catch us if we  fall over. Supper is soup, a main course and fruit for dessert.. We are all tired, its late and eating is a bit of a chore even though the soup is delicious (cream of leek - made fresh because I saw the leek peelings).

     It becomes dark when we are eating and none of us had enough foresight to bring our headlamps to dinner. The porters don't use artificial light and can easily guide us to our tents even though I am in danger of falling over at any second.

     Glorious walking today on a wonderful trail!