Up The Mountain With Mohammed

Mount Kenya: second highest mountain in Africa, the peaks are the highest point in Kenya, at 5000 metres above sea level and covered in snow all year round. The country of Kenya is named after the mountain and it retains an important place in the beliefs of many tribal cultures…

Those of you who know Dan and I well, will be surprised to learn that our aim for this recent trip was not to summit the mountain, but just to climb part of the way up.  Invited to join a trip to the Mount Kenya National Park by a VSO volunteer living nearby, we discovered just how much of an adventure it could be to even climb half-way....

Presenting: a mountain adventure

Featuring: Sally, Tara, Liz, Helen and Dan

Friday

A 6am start, we took a 4 ½ hour ‘express-cab’ journey from Nairobi to the mountain town of Chogoria – it cost 500 bob or £3.50, and took us out of the smog for the first time in a month, past unbelievably green rice fields and tea crops.  We arrived and joined our fellow VSOs for lunch in the shade and met Mohammed, the trek leader. 

This was our first experience of assisted trekking, a cross between tour-guiding and mountain-leading.  For the next 3 days we would be relying on a local crew to show us the way, carry our tent, encourage us and cook for us so all we focus on is: the climb.  In order to hike some of the prettiest trails in the park and gain some real height in just one weekend, we were to travel the first 33kms of the journey by car – we had been told ‘4x4 required’.

Climbing into the Landrover after lunch, a quick count revealed that the 5 of us trekkers were to be supported by a crew of 8 Kenyan guys, led by Mohammed.  We sat in the front, the guys in the back, feeling excited to be on our way and got our first look at the sticker that boasted: This vehicle is protected by the blood of Jesus Christ.  

And thank goodness it was.  The tarmac disappeared immediately, giving way to steep earth tracks that led to the gates of the National Park, and from that point the road continued through thick bamboo forests all the way to our first overnight spot.

The 3 hour journey which followed stretched my personal definitions of ‘road’, ‘danger’ and ‘car accident’.  The deeply rutted tracks and lake-sized puddles were deftly negotiated by our driver, Chris, who tackled each ‘sticky patch’ with gusto, his hands guiding the steering wheel so fast they blurred.  Only with attack, speed and sharp changes in direction could the road be conquered.  Back home they would have closed the road, or at least given us seatbelts….

The car seemed to lean into every 45 degree angle and threaten to topple twice every minute.  Our hands gripped the bar, our hearts were in our mouths, our stomachs disappeared and we swung violently from side to side, collapsing on each other in a vain effort to distribute the weight.  Yes, it was scary, and we wondered whether walking 33kms might be preferable – but we were laughing and, in an odd way, loving every minute.  Looking behind us, the rest of the crew in the back didn’t move, they just calmly took the lurches that were punishing us, showing us up to be the risk-averse wazungu that we are.

‘Don’t worry!’  says Mohammed, ‘even if we fall, we will just push it back up.’

It took me a while to realise that the only way to carry 13 people in one vehicle is have two guys sitting in the roof rack and a few hanging on the back.  And longer still to realise that these outlanders had their own jobs to do, putting weight on the right wheel at the right time, and jumping off to push the car, saving us from disaster at several points.  Then disaster happened...

...The car took a violent lurch to the left as many times before, but this time toppled past the point of no return, landed on its side on the verge, and inside the car, I landed on Tara.  We only had two wheels on the ground.

All the guys get out to push, righting the car and make sure we’re OK.  We were.  We survived!  But now we knew that could happen again.  A silence descended in the car as we all concentrated so hard on the up-coming road, you’d think we were in the driving seat.

After that, there were a few equally treacherous sections during which we were allowed to get out and walk.  It was fantastic seeing Chris rev hard over the mounds and through the lakes at speed with just one guy gripping onto the roof-rack, being thrown around whilst wearing an expression of utter nonchalance.

The final section on foot took us all the way into the Mount Kenya Lodge, a ‘self-service lodge’ with basic cabins for sleeping and a main dining shed where the guys set-to heating water for our tea and preparing dinner. 

It was so strange not to be doing anything, and to be served a beautiful dinner on a tablecloth: soup, followed by battered fish and fresh-done chips with fruit for afters…. up a mountain.  Very strange but wonderful, and returning to our cabins through the now rainy evening to enjoy the fire and lantern light prepared for us, we felt very lucky indeed to be fed and alive all at the same time.

Saturday

A clear view of the peaks - the destination for all 'summit-ers'

Another 6am start.  None of us slept too well, it was completely freezing and one blanket didn’t really do the job.  My pre-breakfast highlight was watching Dan bounce and shriek around the bathroom, hating every second of his very very cold shower. His comment that ‘It’s lovely and warm once you’re out, Helen’ did not persuade me.

But the morning was truly spectacular – a sun-drenched, dawn panorama of waking forest and clear peaks.  Wow.  And a hot breakfast with egg and sausage and a cup of tea was fantastic after a cold night.

Then, 24 hours after leaving home, we were off, trekking in the national park through hills and streams that could have been the Scottish Highlands.  A good enough impression of the UK landscape to cure any homesickness I’ve had.  The blue skies warmed the morning as we found huge trees and weird and beautiful flowers that only grow at altitude.

The views looking back across the forest were fantastic but the climb up was hard.  We could blame the altitude, the effects of Nairobi smog on our lungs or the steepness.  But we’re just a little unfit.  Mohammed and his crew, of course, skipped past us with smiles, overloaded with items in order to set up camp before we arrived (carrying a plastic table up a mountain?  anyone?).  After only a 4 hour hike we’d reached our destination – Ellis lake, where the guys had pitched a little village of tents and were already stuck into the cooking.

‘Who’d’ve thought we could get waiter service up a mountain?’

The shuka: tablecloth becomes backpack becomes tablecloth

Our hot lunch was brought out to our special dining tent and was completely delicious, In the afternoon we walked around the lake, played cards and wondered why we didn’t pack any beer.  At dinnertime, we enjoyed a steak dinner: the most tender meat I’ve had in Kenya.  As night drew in we gathered round the peat fire and prepared for a night camping at 3000 metres.

The East African Cotswalds catalogue shoot

It was even colder than before – wearing everything and burying ourselves in our sleeping bags took the edge off, but it was a long night.  Stepping out of the tent at 2am to answer the call of nature, I looked up and nearly fell over; a dizzying display of what seemed like a billion bright, twinkling stars reaching across the clear skies and down to my feet.

Sunday

We were encouraged out of our now icy tents at dawn by a hot cup of tea, before following Mohammed for an early morning ascent of a lower peak.  45 sweaty minutes later we were at 3500m and the view was immense, looking down on the forests, clouds and the flat-topped feature known as the Giant’s Billiards Table.  Wonderful.

That's the clouds down there

We caught our breaths and headed down to find an alfresco breakfast.  Leaving camp at 10am, we retraced our steps back down the track to the edge of the forest.  Lunch, a quick wash, then back in the car, which was still protected by the blood of Jesus Christ but also had chains on the back wheels. 

The way down through the forest was just as hairy but now we knew the drill.  Stopping a few times, the guys were on hand to fix the fuel line with tape, and tighten the back wheel with an enormous wrench.  But three hours later, I was ready for the journey to be over; the sore throat I’d been harbouring was threatening to become a cold and I wished to be back on tarmac for the ride to Nairobi.

I should have been more careful what I wished for.  Back in Chogoria at 4.30pm, there was barely time to thank the crew and say goodbye to our friends before we jumped on a matatu leaving immediately for Nairobi.

‘Excuse me, is this an express to Nairobi?’

The journey home was unending, my worst time in Kenya so far.  Driven at speed by a maniac, who slammed on the brakes to take local fares every half-mile, this matatu was massively overcrowded and did not allow me to sleep; my fever raged.  I was very bad company, crushed by the weight of passengers and luggage, hanging on to my sick-bag, not saying a word.  Dan and Liz took care of me best they could from seats behind mine.  Back in Nairobi late at night, we marched through the downtown area, shunned the bus for a cab back home and fell into bed.

I didn’t make it into work on Monday.  Lying in our own bed (amazing) after hot showers (incredible), we reflected that camping out in freezing temperatures, being thrown around in a jeep and crushed to death in a matatu was a small price to pay for escaping the city and having our first Kenyan mountain adventure.  When’s the next one?

Special thanks go to:  Sally for inviting and arranging; Mohammed and the entire crew for providing real adventure and taking such good care of us  Check out Mohakin Climbers here; Tara for staffing out her camera to us when I forgot mine; Liz for being great company and looking after me on the way home.

Apologies for: not having an actual picture of Mohammed - will be rectified soon...