So we survived Meru! All 12 of us summited—quite an accomplishment. Thankfully all the arrangements made through Lucy’s uncle worked out really well. Everyone was really glad we ended up hiring the cook—having delicious hot food ready for you is really nice after a hard day of climbing. Summiting and descending Mt. Meru was literally the hardest thing I have ever done in my life, so I’ve been procrastinating blogging about it. Sorry for making you wait! The Mt. Meru trek is designed as follows: Day 1, your choice between scenic 10 km road or shortcut 4 km path, followed by a night at Miriakamba Hut, 2,514 m; Day 2, Ascend 1,056 m to Saddle Hut (3,570 m), then take a packless day hike up Little Meru; Day 3, ascend 966 m to the summit and then back down, another overnight at Saddle Hut; Day 4, descend from Saddle Hut back to the park entrance. However, we only had 3 days (and only wanted to pay for 3 days), so we combined Days 3 and 4. We took with us one guide and one armed ranger, both very old and experienced. The porters and cook went up ahead of us.
Model of Mt. Meru, ash cone in the center and Little Meru off to the right.
Day 1
The first day, we left TCDC at about 7:30 am. Two of our teachers had agreed to drive us 12 into Arusha National Park to Momella Gate, where you begin the hike. Somehow, however, it hadn’t been communicated that we would also be providing transport for all 7 porters and the cook. I’m still not quite sure how it worked, but we fit 11 people and all of their huge hiking packs into a 7-person mini-van! On our way through the park to Momella Gate, we got to see a family of giraffes right next to us. We were pretty excited about that since we had only spotted them from a distance while on safari.
At about 10 am, we began our trek. The first day was pretty basic; we hiked along a dirt road for most of the day with a break for lunch next to a waterfall. The scenery was very lush, green, and wet—a rainforest. We came upon a large family of baboons blocking the road. They scrambled away when we passed, leaving only a horrible stench. The babies hanging from their mothers’ stomachs were really cute though! Near the end of the 10 km, we passed through a strange region where the lava had flown out across the land thousands of years ago leaving a sparsely vegetated, rocky plain sprawling from the steep volcano suddenly jutting up in front of us. It was interesting to see that intermediate stage of post-volcanic regeneration after having learned about it in school for years.
The first day, we left TCDC at about 7:30 am. Two of our teachers had agreed to drive us 12 into Arusha National Park to Momella Gate, where you begin the hike. Somehow, however, it hadn’t been communicated that we would also be providing transport for all 7 porters and the cook. I’m still not quite sure how it worked, but we fit 11 people and all of their huge hiking packs into a 7-person mini-van! On our way through the park to Momella Gate, we got to see a family of giraffes right next to us. We were pretty excited about that since we had only spotted them from a distance while on safari.
At about 10 am, we began our trek. The first day was pretty basic; we hiked along a dirt road for most of the day with a break for lunch next to a waterfall. The scenery was very lush, green, and wet—a rainforest. We came upon a large family of baboons blocking the road. They scrambled away when we passed, leaving only a horrible stench. The babies hanging from their mothers’ stomachs were really cute though! Near the end of the 10 km, we passed through a strange region where the lava had flown out across the land thousands of years ago leaving a sparsely vegetated, rocky plain sprawling from the steep volcano suddenly jutting up in front of us. It was interesting to see that intermediate stage of post-volcanic regeneration after having learned about it in school for years.
We were all really shocked when we arrived at Miriakamba Hut. It was so nice! Nothing like a hut, really. There were multiple sleeping houses containing lockable 4-person rooms. Bathrooms (with real flushing toilets!), showers (with cold water), a dining hall and viewing deck. We enjoyed our first meal prepared by Panga, our cook, and were pleasantly surprised with the quality.
Photo Credit: Marko Niemeier
Day 2
On Sunday we set out at 8 am, climbing up an endless set of staircases through humid rainforest. About halfway through the rainforest and stairs gave way to scrub plants and dusty switchbacks. The mountainside was overrun with what looked a lot like cedar trees. We thought Day 2 was pretty hard—those switchbacks were steep!—but we had no idea what was up ahead. After lunch at Saddle Hut, we put our packs in our rooms and headed up towards Little Meru, a 3,820 m peak recommended to practice with the acclimatization. Our guide set the pace really slow, and even then my heart was pounding in my ears with every step. Being from Houston, pretty much altitude zero, I’m really glad I decided to take altitude medicine. Sure, I was having hard time breathing, but others fared a bit worse. Even the most athletic, in-shape people can be debilitated by altitude. Don’t underestimate altitude! In fact, I think being really in-shape can make it worse. The most athletic guy in our group had started out practically running up the mountain, and the fast ascension took its toll. He threw up on the way up Little Meru and suffered from chills, tingling numbness in his legs, and nausea. My hands had started tingling down at Miriakamba Hut, but that was pretty manageable. The view up on top of Little Meru was incredible. Everyone just kind of sat around staring out over the clouds, at Kilimanjaro and up to the peak we’d be summiting the next day. We went to bed early that night at Saddle Hut, in preparation for a 12:00 am wakeup call for the summit.
On Sunday we set out at 8 am, climbing up an endless set of staircases through humid rainforest. About halfway through the rainforest and stairs gave way to scrub plants and dusty switchbacks. The mountainside was overrun with what looked a lot like cedar trees. We thought Day 2 was pretty hard—those switchbacks were steep!—but we had no idea what was up ahead. After lunch at Saddle Hut, we put our packs in our rooms and headed up towards Little Meru, a 3,820 m peak recommended to practice with the acclimatization. Our guide set the pace really slow, and even then my heart was pounding in my ears with every step. Being from Houston, pretty much altitude zero, I’m really glad I decided to take altitude medicine. Sure, I was having hard time breathing, but others fared a bit worse. Even the most athletic, in-shape people can be debilitated by altitude. Don’t underestimate altitude! In fact, I think being really in-shape can make it worse. The most athletic guy in our group had started out practically running up the mountain, and the fast ascension took its toll. He threw up on the way up Little Meru and suffered from chills, tingling numbness in his legs, and nausea. My hands had started tingling down at Miriakamba Hut, but that was pretty manageable. The view up on top of Little Meru was incredible. Everyone just kind of sat around staring out over the clouds, at Kilimanjaro and up to the peak we’d be summiting the next day. We went to bed early that night at Saddle Hut, in preparation for a 12:00 am wakeup call for the summit.
Day 3
At 1:00 am, we started off in the dark towards the summit. Luckily we didn’t have to take any large packs. Just about 2.5 liters of water, our cameras, and some extra layers. For the summit we took along three of the porters as extra guides in case people got separated or needed to turn around. Now, we had all heard that Mt. Meru is actually considered more difficult than Kilimanjaro because it is steeper and “more technical,” and up until this point I was feeling pretty proud of myself for excelling at this supposedly technical trek. Yeahhh, well it turns out we hadn’t hit the technical parts at all yet. All of Meru’s technicality is pretty much squashed into the 966 meters between Saddle Hut and the summit. Before we knew it, we were crawling along a tiny, windy ridge that dropped steeply off on both sides, guided only by the light of our headlamps. We reached Rhino Point (3,800 m) fairly quickly though, and were all kind of thinking “Oh, okay, this isn’t too bad, I can totally do this.” So naïve. I don’t think I can go through every detail here because words and pictures just don’t do it justice, but I’ll just give you some highlights. * = high point, happy, fun. # = low point, miserable.
At 1:00 am, we started off in the dark towards the summit. Luckily we didn’t have to take any large packs. Just about 2.5 liters of water, our cameras, and some extra layers. For the summit we took along three of the porters as extra guides in case people got separated or needed to turn around. Now, we had all heard that Mt. Meru is actually considered more difficult than Kilimanjaro because it is steeper and “more technical,” and up until this point I was feeling pretty proud of myself for excelling at this supposedly technical trek. Yeahhh, well it turns out we hadn’t hit the technical parts at all yet. All of Meru’s technicality is pretty much squashed into the 966 meters between Saddle Hut and the summit. Before we knew it, we were crawling along a tiny, windy ridge that dropped steeply off on both sides, guided only by the light of our headlamps. We reached Rhino Point (3,800 m) fairly quickly though, and were all kind of thinking “Oh, okay, this isn’t too bad, I can totally do this.” So naïve. I don’t think I can go through every detail here because words and pictures just don’t do it justice, but I’ll just give you some highlights. * = high point, happy, fun. # = low point, miserable.
** “It’s like we’re walking on the moon!”—Ben, as we ran downhill from Rhino Point along a dusty, rocky ridge. The volcanic rocks looked like toasted marshmallows!
* We’re rock climbing!
# We’re clinging to the side of a rock face in the dark, scuttling sideways. I see metal hooks for ropes…. We don’t have ropes.
** I’ve never seen so many stars in my life. We can literally see the Milky Way, and it’s beautiful.
### We’ve been trudging up the same ridiculously steep, scrabbly ridge for over an hour. It’s so windy, and I keep getting volcanic dust in my eyes. If you look at the stars you might fall off the edge. The path is all loose rock—every step you take slides back another half a step.
* Break for Tanzanian beef jerky. It’s frozen but still tastes nice and dog-foody.
## Yaaaay more windy ridges! For you cyclers, imagine the worst, windiest ride of your life, make it 100% uphill, throw some sand in your eyes, and freeze the mouthpiece of your water bottle. Oh yeah and do it while breathing through a straw, because that’s what this altitude feels like. If you can still feel your hands, you aren’t doing it right.
* The altitude also makes you loopy, so random things are hilarious.
** Break time! It’s so warm here behind this giant rock. I’m exhausted, but we must be almost there!
# Our guide tells us congratulations; we’re halfway there! What. Only halfway. Are you serious.
** The moon has started to rise.
### My HEAD. I don’t think I’ve ever felt a real migraine, but I definitely have now.
# As we near the summit, we encounter all of these horrible false-summits. You start climbing up this jagged, rocky cliff, adrenaline rushing thinking you’re almost there, only to cross the peak and see the real summit way off in the distance, separated from you by even more jutting false-summits.
** The sun is rising over Mt. Kilimanjaro. We didn’t make it to the summit quite in time to see it from there, but luckily I was on a ridge with a nice view at that point.
*** I SEE THE FLAG! My head’s still throbbing but now I’m more determined than ever.
# Clouds roll in. Which way is up?
*** I’m there! I’ve summited at 7:00 am, six hours after I began. We sign our names in the book, eat some Lindt chocolates courtesy of Keerthigan, and take photos that make us look a lot happier than we really are.
## I can’t look at the beautiful view because the light is burning a hole through my aching head.
* We’re rock climbing!
# We’re clinging to the side of a rock face in the dark, scuttling sideways. I see metal hooks for ropes…. We don’t have ropes.
** I’ve never seen so many stars in my life. We can literally see the Milky Way, and it’s beautiful.
### We’ve been trudging up the same ridiculously steep, scrabbly ridge for over an hour. It’s so windy, and I keep getting volcanic dust in my eyes. If you look at the stars you might fall off the edge. The path is all loose rock—every step you take slides back another half a step.
* Break for Tanzanian beef jerky. It’s frozen but still tastes nice and dog-foody.
## Yaaaay more windy ridges! For you cyclers, imagine the worst, windiest ride of your life, make it 100% uphill, throw some sand in your eyes, and freeze the mouthpiece of your water bottle. Oh yeah and do it while breathing through a straw, because that’s what this altitude feels like. If you can still feel your hands, you aren’t doing it right.
* The altitude also makes you loopy, so random things are hilarious.
** Break time! It’s so warm here behind this giant rock. I’m exhausted, but we must be almost there!
# Our guide tells us congratulations; we’re halfway there! What. Only halfway. Are you serious.
** The moon has started to rise.
### My HEAD. I don’t think I’ve ever felt a real migraine, but I definitely have now.
# As we near the summit, we encounter all of these horrible false-summits. You start climbing up this jagged, rocky cliff, adrenaline rushing thinking you’re almost there, only to cross the peak and see the real summit way off in the distance, separated from you by even more jutting false-summits.
** The sun is rising over Mt. Kilimanjaro. We didn’t make it to the summit quite in time to see it from there, but luckily I was on a ridge with a nice view at that point.
*** I SEE THE FLAG! My head’s still throbbing but now I’m more determined than ever.
# Clouds roll in. Which way is up?
*** I’m there! I’ve summited at 7:00 am, six hours after I began. We sign our names in the book, eat some Lindt chocolates courtesy of Keerthigan, and take photos that make us look a lot happier than we really are.
## I can’t look at the beautiful view because the light is burning a hole through my aching head.
And at 7:30, we began our descent. I really don’t think I can talk about the descent except to say that it was absolutely horrible. For the first hour and a half, I was skipping along behind Molly, jumping down boulders and happily skiing down the dusty ridges. But then the adrenaline wore off and I hated my life for the rest of it. My knees were creaking, my hips popping out, my head throbbing and my mouth full of grit. The only good thing was that the faster you descend, the easier it is to breath. The views were also spectacular: the cliffs of the crater rim dropping away on either side of you, the ash cone of the old volcano rising from the crater floor, Kilimanjaro in the distance. I’m sure I would have enjoyed the dramatic views more if I hadn’t just summited the 5th tallest mountain in Africa, but they were exhilarating nonetheless. By the time I staggered back to Saddle Hut, at 11:20, I thought there was no way in hell I’d be able to get down the mountain and be out at Momella Gate by 6:00 pm, when it closes. I was so stiff, I couldn’t open my eyes for the headache, and I had started to form blisters from the downhill. Lunch, 6 Advil, moleskin and 2 liters of water are pretty rejuvenating though, and by 1:00 pm we were off. Running back down the switchbacks from Day 2, swinging down the horrible never-ending staircase with our walking poles, killing our knees and calves.
Even going as fast as we could, carrying little more than water and cameras, we were passed left and right by porters. These guys are incredible. One guy will be running up or down the mountain loaded down with three huge packs when us wazungu can’t even manage one. And when they pass, they say pole—to you! (Pole (pronounced poh-lay) is a very common phrase meaning “sorry,” in a “ohh, I feel sorry for you” way. You say it when you see someone struggling with something.) I guess if you climb up and down a mountain every day you get to be in pretty good shape. Our guide, for example, has summited over 400 times. Just another day at work.
We took the 4 km route down after Miriakamba Hut, down down down—ow ow ow. FINALLY we reached flat ground and beelined in the direction of the gate. We passed through a herd of water buffalo (they look so much bigger when you’re on foot!) on our way out, and our ranger stood guard. At 6:15 pm, we reached the car. We had been climbing for the past 15 hours, with a few breaks in between. We smelled terrible and our bodies were ruined, but we were all so proud of ourselves. Everyone kept staring back up at the peak, wondering aloud, “Were we really all the way up there this morning?” My favorite remark was from Grace, the girl from England: “Look at that silly little hill we climbed.” In the end, I’m really glad I climbed Meru, and I feel very accomplished. But, you know what? I got the pictures, my name’s in the book, and once is enough—I wouldn’t do it again! Kilimanjaro, though, that’s another story…
We took the 4 km route down after Miriakamba Hut, down down down—ow ow ow. FINALLY we reached flat ground and beelined in the direction of the gate. We passed through a herd of water buffalo (they look so much bigger when you’re on foot!) on our way out, and our ranger stood guard. At 6:15 pm, we reached the car. We had been climbing for the past 15 hours, with a few breaks in between. We smelled terrible and our bodies were ruined, but we were all so proud of ourselves. Everyone kept staring back up at the peak, wondering aloud, “Were we really all the way up there this morning?” My favorite remark was from Grace, the girl from England: “Look at that silly little hill we climbed.” In the end, I’m really glad I climbed Meru, and I feel very accomplished. But, you know what? I got the pictures, my name’s in the book, and once is enough—I wouldn’t do it again! Kilimanjaro, though, that’s another story…