Climbing Mount Kenya

After a nearly 8-hour (BUMPY) bus ride back from Kisumu, I had exactly 30 minutes to:

1. buy a wind-proof jacket (done! on sale for 2700 shillings at Nairobi Sports House, even if it was filthy and missing a hood)
   
2. get from the CBD (Central Business District) to Hurlingham (thanks to JatCo taxi, and not thanks to all the mid-day traffic)
   
3. unpack my backpack from Kisumu (hot weather, staying in a full-amenity house)
   
4. repack my backpack for cold Mount Kenya (bitterly cold mountain hiking)
   

Fortunately, Dave was running late ... and when he finally did arrive didn't mind waiting a few extra minutes for me. Unfortunately, in my rush, I erred on the side of including items, failing to adhere to Brady's wise, wise adage, "ounces to pounds" and ended up with quite a heavy pack.

But all the scrambling aside, soon we were on our way with Charles (a fantastic taxi driver if you're ever looking for one in Nairobi) and George (my Naivasha and Mount Kenya guide) on our way to Nanyuki, the base town for the Sirimon Trail up Mount Kenya.

Mount Kenya is the second highest peak in Africa and located only three-plus hours northeast of Nairobi. Given tight time constraints (my flight, Dave's work schedule) we only had time (four days) to ascend and descend along Sirimon, rather than descend along Chogoria or some other longer route, but fortunately Sirimon came highly recommended as a) not too crowded, and b) beautiful for flora and fauna.

Our hiking party contained George (our guide), Patrick (our assistant guide -- primarily responsible for escorting one of us down the mountain if we suffered from altitude sickness), and Samuel (our amazing 24 year-old cook). They arranged everything (from paying our park fees to arranging for accommodations to buying all the food) which meant that all Dave and I had to do was walk and look around, actually a harder task than I anticipated.

I am only recently coming to terms with the fact that I am no longer the a) young b) athlete that I once was. My first five years out of college I could pick up and get into shape with very little effort and barely needed to think about fitness. I've noticed in the last few years that the muscles I took for granted for so long leave me if I ignore them ... which I have been since about mid-spring when I dropped out of the Brooklyn half-marathon after 9 miles.

Add my general lack of being in shape (and assuming I am in better shape than I am) to the fact that we started our hike at 2700 meters and would ascend to nearly 5000 meters, covering as much as 23 kilometers in a day, and that my pack was pretty darn heavy, and that my hiking companions were a 23 year-old former football player who still works out a lot and three Kenyan men in their mid-twenties who climb mountains for a living ... and for the first time of any hike or really any sort of athletic activity I found myself being the pacesetter (read: slowest member) of the group. I really am okay with it. But my new-school-year resolution is to start running again and re-join a gym so I can lift some weights.

Mount Kenya may also have been one of the hardest hikes I've ever done. Unlike Machu Picchu or mountain ranges in the northeast, the hike didn't cover rolling hills that gradually ascended, but rather was a steady climb up. And up. And up. Or at least it felt that way. And the weather on Mount Kenya is famously unpredictable, and we had rain (or hail) for at least a portion of our hike each day (usually in the late afternoon).

But, the scenery made up for it.

Our first day was a 9km hike from Sirimon Gate to Old Moses Camp. No one was there when we arrived, although a 30-year old Irishman named Stephen arrived while we were enjoying the views and and a raucous group of late 30s early 40s expats/Brits on vacation from their wives and families drove up in a car shortly after dark. The hut was simple and efficient -- one long common area with nails to hang your wet clothes, two bathrooms (with flush toilets!), a sink, and a half dozen bunk rooms with at least four bunk beds in each.

The best part of Old Moses were the spectacular views from a small outcropping of rocks just behind the cook tents. It was a lovely place to watch the sunset, and later to watch the stars. That is, until Dave heard a hyena call (I thought it was a bird) just a few meters away in the tall grass. Apparently, hyenas are not only scavengers, but will attack weak prey in groups and are as such rather dangerous to humans, so we had to cut our stargazing short.


The next morning we set out at around 7AM for an 18km hike that would ascend 900 meters to Shipton Camp. This was the tough day for me. But the scenery was incredible along the way complete with really interesting plant life (amazing cactuses and the softest, most serene long grass), constantly changing views of the mountains and peaks, and a landscape not quite like anything I'd ever seen before. At times it felt like I was on an alien planet, the cactuses were so big and omnipresent (Joshua Tree in California is probably the best comparison). The only people we saw on the trail were our friends from Old Moses, but we didn't even see them very often.

This is actually the same plant -- young, old

The closer we got to Shipton, the harder I realized summiting to Point Lenana would be, while only 3km away, the beautiful views of the peaks also made it clear just how much climbing would be involved. Once at the camp, our group from Old Moses quickly became a little family, all sharing a single room with at least 8 bunk beds, as the camp was overrun with hikers either from other trails or who had decided to spend an additional day at Shipton resting and preparing for the summit to Lenana.

Our third day would be the most exciting and rewarding -- waking up at 2AM for a snack before leaving to hike the 3km (but at a steep incline) to point Lenana for sunrise, returning for breakfast, and hitting the road again by late morning to return to Old Moses. I left early, wanting plenty of time to rest and walk slowly up to the peak, but George kept pushing me to walk faster, so we were the first to reach the top and spent quite a lot of time in the cold waiting.

Nothing quite beats a mountain sunrise.

The return to Old Moses was definitely easier -- both for the downhill and because George no longer had anything to carry, and so he carried my pack. But I was also excited because Catherine and her sister were supposed to be climbing Mount Kenya and coming up Sirimon that very day -- and I was hoping to see them at Old Moses.

Once again small world Kenya came through and through the fog of an inadvertent nap (the huts are extremely cold and I decided to "read" in my sleeping bag at around 4pm after my 24 km of hiking and being up for a solid 14 hours) I thought I heard Catherine laugh. I woke up and listened hard ... but all was quiet. I couldn't quite motivate to get out of my warm sleeping bag, until suddenly our door burst open and Catherine and her sister were ushered in by her guide and the hut proprietor.

Screams and hugs ensued when I called her name from deep inside my sleeping bag ... we weren't sure we'd see each other again in Kenya. It was an especially nice treat for me to see them as a bit of closure on Mount Kenya, and Kenya itself, before walking that last 9km to the waiting car and a matatu back to Nairobi (and a plane back to New York). Although it was also highly strange to be finishing something Catherine was just starting in Kenya. With the one exception of graduating three years ahead of her from Princeton, I've definitely been following Catherine around -- especially to Kenya.

After summiting Lenana, Dave said, "That is definitely the coolest hike I've ever done." Dave has hiked a lot more than me, but his words ring true -- both for Mount Kenya and my time in Nairobi.