Kilimanjaro Day 8 – Mweka Camp to Mweka Gate

Kilimanjaro Day 8
Mweka Camp (10,065′) to Mweka Gate (5,380′) and OFF THE MOUNTAIN
Zone: Rain Forest
Quoted Distance: 10km/6 miles
Guide Service: Everlasting Tanzania

Amazingly I slept great last night. All the cold medicine in all the land combined with temazepam, being up for over 24 hours, and climbing 4,000’ up followed by 9,000’ down over 21 straight hours is a perfect recipe to sleep no matter where you are or how you feel. I’m so glad to be packing up my gear for the last time this morning. The constant unpacking and repacking at camp each day gets a little tedious.

It’s a beautiful clear morning but we know the mountain well enough to know that clouds will be rolling in. Over breakfast the four of us gathered all our gear that we want to donate and asked Saidi the best way to go about it. Saidi explained that he’d lay out all the gear just as he did with our donation pile on day one and then call on porters to choose what they’d like. Today he’d go in reverse order of how he called them up one day one though so it would feel fair. And then we would have the tipping ceremony.

The ground was muddy but Saidi laid out canvas bags and placed all of our donations on top of them, It was interesting to watch which items were picked first. Like on day one, items of warmth were definitely hot commodities with the Nalgene bottles also going quick. To thank us; Swaeeba led the team in a round of songs; pulling each of us in to dance with them. It’s not easy to try to dance when your lungs are completely shot.

Then it was time for the tipping ceremony. Katie, Kyra, and Shane quickly nominated me to give a speech on our behalf and hand out the tip envelopes. All four of us were overwhelmed with emotions of the week and the phenomenal support we’ve received from this team. We simply could not have done this without them. They’ve laughed with us. They’ve cried with us. They’ve danced with us. They’ve been a crucial backbone for our safety and well-being. With Katie, Kyra, and Shane all sniffling behind me I choked back the tears as best as I could to thank them for everything they’ve done for us and let them know how much we appreciate them. “Nzuli zaidee, ninyi ni mashujaa” – “You’re the best, you’re our heroes.” I did my best but finding the right words to articulate such an overwhelming experience in a way that can be easily translated was not going to do our level of appreciate justice. One by one I handed each member of our support team their tip envelope, hoping that we were making a meaningful impact on their lives in some way since they have had some meaningful impacts on each of ours. I gave GodBless an extra special gift, my flashlight that he had fished out of the toilet for me our first night. One team, one dream.

After my little speech, Saidi translated to the porters and Swaeeba then gave a speech on behalf of the porters, expressing their gratitude for us. So. Many. Tears.

Our emotional ceremony was lovely but there was still work to do! We finished breakfast and got our gear together while the porters finished tearing down camp. Soon, all that was left standing was our bright yellow outhouse. Us ladies took a moment to express our respect for it and what a memorable part of the trip it has been.

My ears are still plugged, my lungs tight, and my sinuses clogged but I’m rested and excited to get this day going. This is the smile of a girl about to get off a mountain after eight days.

None of us were willing to hike back towards the top of camp to get a picture of the Mweka Camp sign so this one we’ll chalk up as a loss for a picture. With camp almost packed up it was time to get moving. The stupid stone steps were slick and getting out of camp took some concentration to make sure I didn’t slip until we finally got back to a raw dirt trail and road.

Back in the rain forest zone, everything was damp and it felt like we were descending through a mossy fairy forest. Someone spotted brown ants along the trail and with the PTSD of brown ants in my socks and biting me at Arusha National Park the day before we got to the mountain I went into overdrive and hauled ass through the next several yards of trail. There were gasps of astonishment at how it was the fastest anyone had seen me move over the last eight days!

A trio of porters passed us coming up the trail and greeted us all, calling Shane “Dingy” as they passed. Our nearby porters and Saidi all laughed, explaining that it’s basically calling him an old man; a respectful name for an elder. From now on, he shall be known as our Dingy.

Saidi explained to us that the second half of our hike this morning would be along the rescue road and if we wanted we could actually have a car come up the rescue road and get us; it’s a service that was already on call if we needed it. But no, we had not come this far to not walk off this mountain by our own power.

As promised, Saidi told us it was story time and now that it was our last day he would tell us about the rock and cave we had passed between Shira II Camp and Lava Tower; the cave that he said was tough to talk about. Sure enough, my guess from that day was right, that was the site of the Ian McKeever tragedy. Ian was an Irish mountaineer who regularly brought large groups to climb Kilimanjaro. He and Saidi became good friends with Saidi often leading the treks for his groups. In 2013 they were leading a New Year trek and faced massive rains. As Saidi told the story, the day they left Shira II Camp he was planning to take the lead per usual but Ian said he would take the lead that day. As they approached the rock that had been pointed out to us; lightning shot through the air and struck Ian. Saidi ran to his aid and as Ian agonized they carried him into the little cave for shelter as they called for help and waited for rescue to arrive. Saidi told us how they did everything they could to ease Ian’s suffering as he died. We had known about this from researching Saidi and Everlasting Tanzania when selecting them to lead our trek. Katie and I had discussed how this gave us extra confidence in Saidi because we knew he had experience with emergency situations. Hearing Saidi tell the story and the details was tough and was emotional for Saidi.

We stopped for a break in a little hut at the top of the rescue road to have snacks, and more importantly, for Chaz and Saidi to teach us their pistola dance. This is it, we’re at the rescue road, we’re basically off the trail, this trek is really almost over.

As the rain lightly sprinkled off and on we took our ponchos off and put them back on. Finally I gave up and left mine on regardless, it’s annoying but too much work trying to keep up with the fickle rain pattern. A poncho is definitely a Kilimanjaro gear MVP. We realized that Shane had rushed ahead and was no longer in our sights. Saidi sent Chaz to go catch up to him as we weren’t far from the end of the trail and it would be bad if a ranger saw Shane without a guide with him.

Even with my annoying plugged ears I am able to carry on conversations today which is nice. I kept thinking they’ll pop as we continued descending to lower and lower elevation but no luck. Lost in casual chatter, Katie, Kyra, Saidi, and I were stunned in our tracks by a loud noise when Shane yelled “BAAAHHHH” and jumped out of the bushes at us. I reacted appropriately and called him an asshole while he laughed hysterically about reactions.

We passed a weigh station and knew that meant we had to be soooo close to the gate. Sure enough, minutes later, 4 1/2 hours after leaving Mweka Camp this morning, the Mweka Gate sign could be seen in the misty distance. We had caught up with another pair taking their last steps off of the mountain as well; a woman slightly stumbling as her guide held her hand to support her as she made the final steps to the gate and gratefully said to him, “Thank you for saving my life.” Given what we’ve just endured I have no doubt that was an earnest statement and very real.

And then we were there. The Mweka Gate. The sign. The official building. The vans. The activity. We just completed trekking fucking Mount Kilimanjaro.

A group of young boys called to us with buckets and scrub brushes. For $5 they scrubbed the mud off of our boots while we waited for the Mweka Gate sign to clear of other trekkers.

Saidi led us into the very bare but very official building and took us to a small office to sign the log book and officially sign ourselves off of the mountain. My first time being inside in eight days! And there was a real bathroom! And a sink with running water! And real chairs! As we sat in the building waiting for Chaz and Saidi to finish doing all the official business and organizing the porters one of the Aussies we started with on day one walked into the building. But this wasn’t right, they were supposed to finish tomorrow. We all said hi and I asked him why he was back early. “My mate couldn’t make it, he had to turn back at Lava Tower.” Being a good friend he decided to hasten his trek by a day so his mate wasn’t alone waiting for him in town for as long. Man, to have to turn back at Lava Tower, that was days ago!

Saidi reappeared and looked completely refreshed in clean clothes. He told us that he had taken a “passport” – the gist of it is that he had taken a sink bath and cleaned himself up as quick as he could. It seems this is a thing that the guides and porters do at the gate! I was jealous of this passport.

Making sure we had a our fill of pictures at the Mweka Gate sign we were loaded into a van with all of our porters, with all of our gear strapped to the roof, and just like that we were leaving the mountain.

We didn’t go far though. After a few short minutes the van stopped in Mweka Village where Steven, Kasimu, and Essau were making us another hearty lunch in a little shared kitchen outside of a large shop. Everyone drank beer and gin but I abstained save for a taste because my focus is on getting healthy and alcohol is not going to help this bronchitis or do any favors for my antibiotics. Steven joined us for lunch and shared a couple of his recipes; I so wish he had a cookbook. Together we reflected, laughed, and my appetite was back! It’s been maybe three days since I’ve had much of any appetite but suddenly I was ready to eat. The effects of altitude are no joke.

After lunch we did some damage in the little village shop (why yes I do need a metal sculpture of a pumba in my life) before climbing back into the van with our team to be transferred back to Arusha. As the van pulled away from Mweka Village, Swaeeba led the porters in song. These men (and woman), seriously, eight days of back breaking labor for us and now instead of being exhausted and over it at the end of the trek they are smiling, laughing, and singing for us.

Ten plus minutes of singing later the van quieted. Kyra pulled out the bottle of gin and it started going around the bus poured into whatever vessel folks could come up with. Swaeeba reached out and touched the kula cloth on Katie’s pack to inquire what it was. Is it a mask? At once all of us ladies hollered for him to stop touching it and poor Saidi could barely talk through his tears of laughter as he translated for us to explain to Swaeeba that it was her pee wipe cloth.

Each time the van stopped along the way to let more porters off I felt a pang of sadness to say goodbye. Thankfully we had great distractions like Katie’s hair after she took her braids out, the same braids she has had in since the night before we started, to entertain us!

Finally, finally it happened, my ears unclogged! Over an hour after we left Mweka Village my ears finally popped and I could hear like a normal person again; such sweet relief! My phone began to get a little reception and I checked into the real world to let everyone know we’d made it off Kilimanjaro safe. Every few minutes I’d look out the van window and each time see Kili getting smaller and smaller; I can’t believe we just climbed that thing!

Three hours later, just after 7pm, we arrived back at Ilboru Safari Lodge in Arusha. The porters formed an assembly line of sorts pulling our duffels off of the roof and passing them down. Saidi had everyone gather around. We all offered our thanks again and he presented Katie, Kyra, and I with our official Kilimanjaro summit certificates and gave Shane a card. Saying goodbye to everyone and walking back to the lodge, into real civilization, is so surreal.

I felt like I was in a daze as the van, with the team who we had just spent so much time with and relied on for eight days, pulled away. The Lodge staff took over caring for us; ready with our room keys in hand and staff to carry our duffels and the luggage we had stored at the lodge to our rooms.

We have to meet our safari guide this evening to get details for the rest of our trip so we agreed on a time to meet back in the main building for dinner and our guide meeting. But now, now it was time to shower. The first shower in eight days. I was so thankful to turn mine on and discover that it had better water pressure than the last room I had at the Lodge, over a week ago. I went over a week with no shower.

Standing in the steamy water I could literally feel and hear my sinuses crackling. I’ve never experienced anything like this before; it both felt and sounded like pop rocks in my face. I scrubbed my body, washed my hair, shaved my legs, and stood there until the crackling in my sinuses had subsided and I was running out of hot water. I hate to be crass but I cannot believe what I coughed out of my lungs after I turned the water off; I didn’t know it was possible for a cough to produce so much. Immediately my congestion felt so much better and so much pressure was released from my body. Stepping out of the bathroom, I caught a glimpse of myself in the full length mirror, holy crap, my body is cut. Apparently there’s something to eight days of functional training. My entire body looked and felt strong, muscular, and so lean.

We met back in the main building for dinner at 8pm and found ourselves missing Steven’s mountain meals. Sam, whom we had originally worked with on arranging our trip, met us himself to review our safari itinerary and let us know that Soloman would be our driver and guide. He’ll pick us up at 8am tomorrow; talk about no time to rest. After meeting with Sam we ate and reflected on our experience; I’m still in disbelief that we just did that – just spent eight days climbing Mount Kilimanjaro. And I slept in a tent and didn’t mind it! I am eager and anxious for safari but wish I was feeling better. Climbing Kilimanjaro definitely tested me both physically and mentally – more so mentally. My main reflection though is the people. All the people. Katie, Kyra, Shane, Saidi, Chaz, Steven, Kasimu, Essau, GodBless, and all the other porters who kept us safe and supported us. I stepped onto that mountain with friends who are now family and met strangers who are now friends.