Day 6: "You guys will be best friends by the time you're at the bottom of the mountain"

I awoke before breakfast and laid in the tent for quite some time before getting up even though I was excited to finally see the view from our camp. After our whole tent was up and laughing we all got out to join everyone else. I noticed my muscles felt very unrested but I didn't want to jump to any conclusions before I gave my body time to wake up. I sat in my crazy creek and ate breakfast... pancakes and coffee on the mountain!! How could this day go wrong?

Coffee and Smiles photo courtesy of Isaac Johnson

After a class on the different zones of the mountain and leave no trace we broke camp. Most of my stuff was divided up and given to the porters to carry. Connie checked with me on how I was feeling and I told her my muscles still felt like they didn't recover at all but I decided to try.

We began hiking and it wasn't long at all before I felt my body shutting down again. I thought logically about the climb ahead, the dropping temperature, the chance of me getting good sleep and the rest of my classmates. I knew from experience that my body has a harder time when I'm camping in the cold and when I don't get a good night's sleep. Seven more days of this on my body..... was it worth it??

"Pole Pole!" I shouted to the front. I explained how I was feeling and we went ahead a little more to the Old Moses Camp sign where we could sort everything out. I told Methoga I could walk down to the gate and didn't need a ride. I still wanted to see as much of the mountain as I could. Connie said I should be really proud of making it so far and I was. There was no way I could have gone that far a year ago. I made it 10,830 feet above sea level.

I asked the group who wanted to take a picture with me to show how far I made it. Everyone came over and we took a few pictures by the sign. I gave my lesson on climate change and chatted with everyone a bit while we waited for a porter to escort me down. Knowing me fairly well Brandon said the porter and I would be best friends by the time we made it to the bottom of the mountain. Tina, a kinesiology graduate student, told me that she had been watching me before I collapsed the day before and that she saw my legs swerve out below me before my body collapsed like you see happen to marathon runners on occasion. It kind of made me feel good to know I pushed myself to my limit.

Brandon gave me a quick mental check to make sure I was making the right decision and I knew I was. Methoga and Connie told me what I could do while I was waiting for them to return and I was actually kind of excited. I asked if anyone wanted the gear I didn't need. Sarah took my gloves and Gishuru took one of my hats.

Sarah gave me a big hug and said she was proud of me for making it that far. I started to cry, again, but I knew it was okay. I was going to get a chance to explore more of Kenya.

Gishuru said "Kwaheri ja kuonana" (see you soon) as he took those that wanted a slower pace on a head start. Everyone went but Brandon, apparently they were all feeling it or just wanted to go. The porter arrived with my gear and I said kwaheri to Connie, Methoga and Brandon as I began my journey down the mountain.

My porter's name was Amos. We chatted about many things as we made our way down. He told me there had been elephants at our camp overnight because he saw fresh dropping in the morning. I wondered if they had been close by during our 3am tent bathroom break. We talked about animals in Kenya vs. America, hunting, fishing and several other things.

We talked about sports and I asked if Kenyans play basketball like Obama does. "Obama is a basketballer?" he asked, which I thought was kind of funny. I told him that Obama plays everyday at the white house. I think he thought that was cool. He asked me what my favorite part of the United States was, should he get the chance to visit. I told him I liked the Pacific Northwest area and Minnesota, of course.

We passed the Kenya electric company along the way. Amos talked with them a short while and then we continued. He told me that if they passed us on their way down they would give us a ride. We continued on for a little while and soon enough they did pass us. They stopped and talked to Amos. The vivid memory of diving out of the way of that same vehicle as it came sliding down the road sideways the day before became very clear in my mind. That, combined with the fact that I wanted to see more of the mountain influenced my decision to tell Amos I wanted to continue on foot so that I could see the bamboo that I missed on the way up.

We continued on and of course it began to rain. We stopped to put on our rain gear. I helped Amos reach his umbrella. He was so polite and soft spoken I could barely hear him over the sound of the rain. I told him how I love coffee and he offered to take me to a coffee farm. Him being a porter I was unsure if it would cost me anything so I gave a very nice but vague reply.

The rain stopped and we rested for a minute. Amos pointed out the bamboo to me and explained how it grew like sugar cane. He was shocked and almost laughed when I told him I had never seen sugar cane. He told me how you could chew on it and that he would try to find some so I could try it.

We continued on and Amos politely stopped each time I wanted to take a picture. We approached another porter who was with a white girl. Amos, almost in laughter, pointed at her bare feet and asked, "what is the problem?" She just kind of smiled and said her feet hurt in her boots. Amos and the porter began talking. I asked the girl where she was from, she said Australia and asked where I was from. I asked her where she was camping at, the porter told me Old Moses. I let her know she was almost half way there and she heaved a sigh of relief and said good.

Amos and I continued on our way passing a few more porters and again, it began to rain. Just as I was seriously regretting not hopping into the Kenya Power truck a white jeep appeared and it was for us. A bunch of porters jumped out of the jeep and took off up the mountain. A younger looking guy jumped out of the front and immediately introduced himself as Patrick as he shook my hand. Amos and I climbed into the back seat and we took off down the mountain.

We stopped at the gate to check out and remembering the "bumpy road" ahead of us I ran to the bathroom quick. Off we went down the road I had already been stuck on twice. Again we started spinning and tipping in the mud, I could have reached the ground out my window twice. No getting stuck this time though.

We went to the Kiboko Wilderness office and got my luggage. Then we went to get lunch at a small cafe nearby. Patrick ordered me sausage and nduma. He explained that nduma was a food that had historical importance in their culture. Eating the nduma (arrowroot) helped Kenyans to grow big and strong.

Amos and another porter came and joined us as we ate our lunches. They asked me what kind of things I like and what I wanted to do. I told them that my dad worked for Coca-Cola and they got really excited to show me Coca-Cola stuff. The other porter used to work in a Coke factory and was telling me about the air compressors and boilers with a lot of enthusiasm. After my meal I ordered a cup of black coffee rather then tea and Patrick took note that I had a coffee preference. He said he was going to get some so that I could have coffee during my homestay. I couldn't believe how nicely I was being treated. Amos wanted to take me to a coffee farm, the other porter wanted to show me his nursery and Patrick was special ordering coffee for me.

We finished our meals and started walking around town. You had to watch your step because it was like walking on a beaten farm road with deep tire tracks going every which way. There was litter all around and even in some places broken glass. Everyone would look at me as we walked by. Patrick would say something to them in Kiswahili and I would just say jambo!

Patrick spotted a coke stand and we crossed the street. Patrick spoke to the salesman and then told me it was okay to take a picture. Amos, Patrick and the other porter all stood in the picture and smiled. The salesman then came out and wanted his picture taken in front of the coke stand. Then Patrick offered to take my picture in front of the coke stand. They always wanted to see each picture after it was taken and I gladly showed them.

We made our way back to the jeep. I said kwaheri to Amos and the other porter and shook their hands. Patrick, myself and Jack the driver were on our way to Bantu Camp.

Once we arrived Patrick and Jack helped me carry my luggage in. Patrick set up my room and meal times with the receptionist. They then walked me to my room and Patrick came in to make sure my room was okay with the receptionist. He made sure my bathroom was okay, the wardrobe was okay and that the electricity, which was temporarily out, would be working again. After he approved everything he said kwaheri and that he would see me the next morning.

I looked around at all my stuff and didn't know where to start. I gathered my muddy clothes, boots, rain gear and bags into the bathroom. I started by rinsing all the mud off everything and then showered. It felt great to sit and pamper myself for a while. Brushing my hair and plucking my eyebrows had never felt so great.

I got dressed, grabbed my Kiswahili notebook and headed for dinner. I was greeted at the door to the restaurant and given the table closest to the fireplace. The waiter told me about the three courses they were serving that night. I was immediately overloaded with soup, ugali, chicken, beef, potatoes, veggies and kale. The "bartender" brought me a coke and I ate happily while studying my Kiswahili. On occasion the staff would come and talk to me but I was still new to them so they kept things professional.

A young lady working there took my plate away after I said I was full and as I walked out the server asked me if I wanted any tea or coffee. Knowing I had a lot of laundry to handwash I said yes to the coffee. He had me sit in the lounge area where other tea and coffee drinkers were gathered.

I sat close to the bar on a couch knowing that Steven, the bartender, would come talk with me. The bar is funny here, you see the beer and liquor back there but all anyone ever orders is coffee, tea or coke. Sure enough Steven came over to ask me about America. The server brought me a plate of fruit which was amusing to me being I was full. None-the-less I ate my fruit which, per Kenya usual, tasted quite good.

The server then brought out a mug with hot water and milk mixed, sugar and a packet of Nescafe. This is how "white coffee" is served in Kenya. Then Steven told the server I prefer my coffee black so he went and got that in addition to my "white coffee." I sat and chatted with Steven and the other servers while they were not busy. I saw a lizard on the wall and inquired about it. Steven told me it was a harmless little lizard that stayed on the wall. So that was that, I could see three lizards on the wall and nobody cared so I guess I wouldn't either.

I soon realized it was ten o'clock so I said, "lala salama" and headed off to do laundry and then to bed.

I fell asleep wondering in excitement what the next six days solo in Kenya would bring.