Wednesday 22 August 2001
BARRANCO TO KARANGA VALLEY
Woke up with the worst of the three headaches I had over the past three nights. Two acetaminophens quickly took care of things. The Ivanovs had much worse headaches. Andrea was merely bored. As we ate our first meal of the day, other groups, most likely heading straight to Barafu camp, were already working their way up the Breakfast Wall. We were in no rush as Karanga camp was perhaps 3 hours away.
The Breakfast Wall Trail is part hike/ part scramble. You’ll definitely get your hands dirty on the way up. As others have noted it’s really quite amazing that all the porters carrying large loads make it up the wall as well. Teamwork is a big help, particularly on the steep, exposed portions where a fall could easily prove fatal. Ianko and Andrea decided to demonstrate their rock climbing skills after growing impatient with the progress of the masses. Godi warned them off certain paths from time to time. At one point we were on a narrow ledge looking down over the valley to see waterfalls otherwise invisible from our camp. The climb was supposed to take us one to 1.5 hours. It lasted somewhat longer due largely to the crowds. In keeping with previous days’ hikes I slowed down considerably near the top where the steep rock face became smooth enough to be slippery. Compounding that, I was quite winded by that point, prompting more than a few choice epithets.
At the top, numrous hikers rested while enjoying the magnificent views of Kibo’s summit glaciers (especially the Heim) and Mount Meru floating in a sea of clouds to the west. We took some photos then rested before setting off for Karanga through a series of intermediate valleys. Descending into Karanga Valley, we saw a large number of campsites and a steep trail leading up out of the valley to the east. No sooner did we arrive at the bottom of the valley than we continued up the steep switchback ahead. I was not pleased at this prospect due to fatigue. Toward the top I became dizzy and teetered backwards while 2 other climbers, ironically discussing altitude sickness, walked around me as if nothing was wrong. Love those South Africans! At the top of the wall a few clusters of tents spread out across the plateau to the east and south. Our tents and meal table were already waiting for us. From here we had a spectacular view of Kili’s south face, and the Barranco Wall's Window Butress arch. I tossed my daypack in the tent, unpacked some gear, and then joined the others at our meal table.
Philip brought over the usual crepes and a fine tomato-potato soup/stew, which everyone devoured. Some sliced vegetables made it over to the table too. I recall this as being the best meal of the trek: appetizing food and breathtaking scenery in all directions. For the first time in 2 days I had a considerable appetite for lunch.
Afterward, Nik and Ianko went off to take photos while Andrea and I worked on our journals. When the Ivanovs returned, Ianko and Andrea retired for a siesta. Nik reviewed my journal entries, most, if not all of which, passed his muster.
It got colder earlier in the afternoon here—from the altitude and the wind—so we bundled up by 3 or 4 PM. Godi came by to chat with Nik and I for an hour or so. We had a wide-ranging conversation about his interest in working in America so that he could save up to start a business in Tanzania. Also figuring into the talk: Tanzanian politics and ethnic groups, Uhuru Point, the Reusch (Inner) Crater, the next day’s hike to Barafu, and (on a sobering note) the unusually high number of deaths on the mountain this August. Godi said that over the course of June-July-August of any given year, an average of 4-5 people die on Kili. So far in just August 2001 there were 4 deaths including the Israeli cardiologist who died at Mawenzi Tarn hut of a heart attack brought on by altitude sickness. Attempts to revive him failed. The man’s young daughter had accompanied him for the climb. We found out many of these sad details after returning to New York. The good climb companies always warn clients not to underestimate Kilimanjaro and ZARA is no exception.
For dinner we squeezed into the meal tent for the first time since Machame hut because the wind had picked up a lot. The table was left outside so we sat cross-legged in a cramped fashion while gingerly passing food around to avoid spills. The process had its amusing aspects, but was mostly a pain in the ass. Think of the game Twister and you'll begin to get an idea of our situation.
After dinner, the real fun began. Nik and I disagreed over how to deal with the broken zippers on our tent. I brought along duct tape, the universal fix-all, and was prepared to seal the tent from inside. Nik rejected this on account of both his claustrophobia and his stated need to relieve himself every hour (which in other circumstances is a good thing at high altitude). The argument became heated and I started yelling in disgust, to no one in particular, about bad tents and no tips. "Tips" was the magic word as Godi soon came running over to settle things down. I proposed the use of a pee bottle to which Godi offered his wholehearted agreement. The idea revolted Nikola’s refined Slavic dignity so more arguing ensued. I angrily suggested that Nik sleep outside or trade places with one of the porters. Also unacceptable, but it calmed us down enough for a rough compromise to be worked out: Nik would use some duct tape to seal part, but not all, of the entry after returning to the tent. It didn’t keep out as much dust and wind as either of us would have wanted, but at some point I got a few hours sleep, Nik probably less so. Needless to say, there was little if any chit-chat that night.
