The Hike: Mount Kenya

Day 1: Nairobi to Old Moses Camp (3,300m and 9K)

Leaving Nairobi at 7:00, the morning was spent driving through the Kenyan countryside. We crossed the equator and passed through Nanyuki, arriving at the Sirimon Park Gate around noon. After lunch, the walk uphill started. We arrived at camp around 3:30.

After the Kilimanjaro hike, we learned some lessons from extended backpacking trips. One lesson was not to rely on the camp cooks for food. Before we left Nairobi, we stocked up at Nakumatt, Nairobi’s well supplied grocery chain. We had exactly enough peanut butter and jelly and banana sandwiches to last us the entire four day hike– along with nuts, fruit, and one can of Sour Cream and Onion Pringles.

Cloud cover at Old Moses Camp.

Blue sky!

Day 2: Old Moses Camp to Shipton Camp (4,200m and 14K)

We woke up around 6 and left Old Moses at 7:00. Clear skies, a slight breeze, and cooler weather with each step. We crossed the Ontulili River and hiked through Mackinders Valley.

You can see Mount Kenya’s various peaks peeking out behind hills.

Blue skies.

The hike up the valley was particularly picturesque.

Getting closer!

Mount Kenya has three peaks. Our destination was Lenana, just shy of 5,000m.

Shipton’s Camp!

First Part of Day 3: Shipton to Mt. Lenana

I spent most of the night tossing and turning– with a pounding headache, flu like symptoms, and general achy-ness.

The thought of food repulsed me.

It was so very cold. I had on six layers on top, and three on the bottom. Two pairs of socks were heating each foot.

Altitude sickness galore.

Around midnight, the wind started howling. Raindrops beat down and drummed on the camp’s tin roof, leaking onto the concrete floors. For fuck’s sake, I thought. Nightmarish flashbacks to Kilimanjaro raced through my mind.

I pulled the sleeping bag over my head.

Flashlights cut through the darkness.

Knock.

Knock knock.

Knock.

“Girls. It’s 2:00. Wake up.” Our guide, Josephat, was standing at the door. Even in the dim light, I could see that his raincoat was soaked through.

“We’re up,” Q said, rolling over on her sqeaking bottom bunk.

The lights disappeared, and Q and I were left alone again in the dark.

“Is it raining?” I ask.

“Pouring,” Q groggily replies.

“Do we still have to go?”

“You don’t have to.”

“But you’re going?”

“Yes.”

She fumbled for her headlamp.

“Do we have to go?”

“You don’t have to,” she said as she reached for her ski jacket.

“But if you’re going, I have to,” I said.

The conversation continued like this for a while.

At 3, we were standing in pitchblackdarkness outside of our hut. Rain had already soaked my outer layer.

At 3:10, we had begun out ascent. The rain had turned to snow. Each step was slippery and difficult and inches of snow under our boots. There was no path to be seen, the trail was long buried below layers of ice and snow.

Frozen. Cold. Couldn’t feel my fingers.

“JUST LEAVE ME HERE TO DIE!” I wailed. I sat down on a rock, cursing myself for coming. It was too late to turn around– it would be impossible to make it back without help. Q was determined to get to the top, and we only had one Josephat.

It was a blizzard. We couldn’t see more than three feet in front of us. A complete white out.

The hike went like this:

Each step we took, we would slip or lose our balance and fall backwards.
I tried to focus on placing one foot in front of the other.
Sheets of ice layered in crusts on my jacket and covered my hat.
There were tears.
There were claims that I would rather be left to die and have hypothermia take me.
It was impossible to know the time, as my watch was long buried under layers of clothes and mittens.
There were multiple claims of frostbite.

Q kept her resolve and said inspirational and coach-y things like:

“Come on, almost there,”

“You can do it,”

“It’s all in your head,”

We trudged on in the darkness. In the inches of snow. In the frozen tundra blizzard storm.

I prayed for daylight to break.

At 5:00, Q’s alarm on her phone went off. She had forgotten to turn it off, but at least we had some concept of the time of day.

It was still pitch black, and snowing heavily.

Around this time, Q almost collapsed in the snow. Josephat had to grab her hiking poles.

“Come on,” Josephat said. “We’re almost there.”

Q silently pulled herself off of the ground.

We trudged on.

I could see a hint of light.

“How much longer?” I gasped.

“See up there?” Josephat pointed to a faint mountain top. It seemed like it was a million miles away.

“Let me just stay here. I’ll wait for you at this rock. I can’t continue.” Tears. Whining. Stomping.

We stopped and stood in the sideways snow.

“Will you hate me if I stay here?”

Silence.

“Come on…”

They forced me along.

On the final ascent, Josephat (bless him) dragged me up to the top. He had said (it probably was just for our benefit) that he had never seen that much snow.

At 7:30, we reached the top.

At the summit.

Exhaustion.

Lenana.

Second part of day 3: Lenana to Mount Kenya Bandas (29K)

The sun came out on our descent in full force– melting the snow away and reflected off of the remaining snow, burning my eyes and skin. We walked the entire day– I ate my Pringles for lunch– and limped into our next camp around 4 in the afternoon.