First South African to visit the highest peaks in Continental Southern Africa

Karen Hauptfleisch’s Trip to Morro Mocco

 Karen Hauptfleisch has a personal dream to visit the highest peak in every African country and has to date been fortunate to have seen the “sunrise” on 30 African peaks.  This adventure started in 2002 when she climbed Kilimanjaro and then decided to continue to visit all the 54 African countries in support of an initiative called Sunrise on African Peaks (SOAP).
 
Karen has chosen to take the long road, deciding to get to know Africa, its people and its cultures as part of this adventure which culminates in her visiting a local high point or peak.  This commitment has allowed her to explore Africa, enjoying the challenges of local transport, cuisine and the many diverse cultures.  It is this approach which differentiates her from other adventurers as she realises that getting to her destination is a crucial part of the trip and her stories recall these experiences and her personal growth.

Her travels have seen her travel in southern, eastern and western Africa; however the one country which she struggled to visit was Angola.  Challenges included the high cost of accommodation, air travel and the requirements for the necessary permits, etc.  She once had a plan to drive from South Africa, but was warned about the perils of such a journey and it seemed a distant dream to travel to Morro Mocco, near Huambo.  Some people will say that good things come to people who are willing to wait and this is definitely true in Karen’s case.  After scouring ticket prices and making contact with local Angolan businesses, things fell into place at the beginning of June 2012.  Plane tickets were suddenly realistically priced and local contacts facilitated accommodation and logistical support in Angola.

Using local contacts and knowledge a plan was forged and the trip was underway.  Utilising commercial flights, she arrived in Huambo and immediately realised that she could have used the local bus services as they would have been far more fun.  It is sometime difficult to get sound information regarding local transport, roads, etc. and this would have allowed her to see the scenery along the way whilst saving money.  The highest peak in Angola, Morro Mocco (2620m) is situated about 120km north of Huambo and would require travelling to the local village and finding transport to Konjonde, the local village, was a bit of a challenge.  However her local contacts were very helpful and a local scout master and teacher offered to take her party to the mountains. 
The village
Spending time in Huambo, allowed Karen to get to know more about the local history and the challenges faced in the recent past.  The local people were positive, friendly and very helpful, whilst being very fascinated by her trip to the local mountains. 

Over and above spending time on the highest peak in Angola, the highlight of the trip was the time spent in Kanjonde, the village at the base of Morro Mocco.  Her Karen got to meet the local people who were quite used to the visitors who visited their village from time to time to walk up the mountain. 


Sunset
After spending close to two days exploring the village, the mountains and the local environment, she started to get an appreciation of the local villagers and their day-to-day challenges.  The village is about 15km from the closest tar road and basic services such as clinics, etc. require motorbike travel or a long walk.  The local school and church are however functioning well and the local chief was very philosophical about the people and their future.  They see the local mountains as a source of clean drinking water but are not able to realise the value of the tourism due to the limited facilities.   There are ablution facilities that have been built for the visitors and the chief speaks of maybe building a place where people could sleep with a shop for basic provisions.  This vision to improve the livelihood of the village is distant from the hustle and bustle of the outside world; however is a dream of the local community to move forward and progress.  Karen could not help to wonder what could be done to improve the local village in the foothills of Morro Mocco?  The local community use the mountains as a source of fire wood and grazing for their cattle and the effects of this utilisation can be seen with the loss of trees and the erosion which is prevalent on the steeper slopes.  Having a source of income would help to alleviate the problems highlighted earlier and realising the value of tourism maybe an option to this community. 

The trip to the summit of Morro Mocco was a pleasant hike where Karen had the opportunity to see amazing scenery, vistas, fauna and flora including an African Rock Python.  The mountain had recently burnt and the stark contrast of the green vegetation versus the burnt areas was phenomenal.  The team, including a local guide from the village, was humbled by the trip and was able to walk away with a new appreciation of the local area and its customs. 
 
Reaching this peak allowed Karen to realise an important milestone in her adventure when she became the first South African to visit the highest peak in each of continental southern African country.  Since this trip, Karen has visited another three eastern African countries and will continue to travel on this amazing continent whilst growing as a person and learning about the local humanity, nature and the adventures of travel.  

Karen would like to thank the Angolan people for their hospitality and assistance in this endeavour and would furthermore like to thank her hosts in both Luanda and Huambo for offering their assistance and furthermore opening her mind to this fabulous country.

Countries visited in Africa
 

 ------ooOoo------

DRC - Nyiragongo - July 2012

Day 1:  I was not very happy with the "bubble-wrappers" attitude towards me at the airport – they told me I was a rich lady – and once in Rwanda, I felt extremely guilty since the bubble wrapping of my luggage was something I have never done before.  Plastic bags are banned in Rwanda and everything is pristine.  Even the leaves in the streets are being swept and you won’t find a pothole on the roads.

Taxi Rank in Kigali
After a short taxi ride from the airport to the local taxi rank, I paid $3 for a ride all the way to the border of DRC.  I even received an official receipt.  It was hot, but I suffered from a ‘StuckInaTaxiWithaFullBladder” fear - so I did not even bother to buy water along the way.  After an hour, there was an official stop.  But I have been in countries before where the bus/taxi just left passengers behind, so I was not moving from my seat.  Much to my shock the passenger in front of me just threw out his plastic bottle.

In Gyasina, I followed an Ugandian to the border but he told me to rather follow the locals, which I did.  It was not long before I heard “Musungu, Musungu!”.  They were obviously not use to tourists. The Rwanda officials explained to me that they do not have a problem letting me through that specific border post but that I would encounter problems on the DRC side. 


I followed the locals to the wrong border post
It was no problem jumping on a motorbike for a ride to the other border post but my helmet’s visor was cracked and it was only after a while that I realised that the driver was taking me to a guesthouse instead.

My motorbike ride to the right border post









When I saw the huge new building I presumed there would be a huge influx of tourists but I was mistaken and was shown to a dilapidated building.  I was asked for my letter of invitation by the grumpy official and it took me at least 45 minutes to explain to him that I have a visa and therefore don’t need a letter of invitation. I was starting to regret leaving my calming tablets at home but luckily I had proof of payment of my trip to see the volcano with me and he reluctantly stamped my passport.


My 'fancy' shower/bath with 3 taps - and little water
I can’t say the locals were over friendly and I took another motorbike to the hotel and yes, my driver got us lost. A lack of sleep, dehydration and a full bladder made me cranky and my 1st impression of the hotel was not great.

There was one lonely desk at the reception and no one knew about my reservation but they rushed to clean out a room.  Everything in the room was huge.  The tv screen, the bed, the tiles in the bathroom and there were even 3 different taps in the shower. I was finally able to empty my bladder and drank lots of water.  I was also looking forward to wash 16-hour old sweat off me. And then I discovered that there were only 10 drops of water in the tap and it took me 10 minutes to rinse my hair.  But luckily I had 40 000 seconds to kill!



I went to the local shop next to the hotel to get some water and was quite surprised to see three guys making toasted sandwiches using snackwich machines that was placed on the floor.

There was no fan, a lot of light fittings with very little bulbs in the huge room but luckily it was not hot.  I drifted in and out of sleep.

Day 2:  The touring company ‘forgot’ to pick me up and I spend another day relaxing in Goma. When I asked for a cheaper room, I was shown to a small dingy room which costed $80.  I have paid $30 via booking.com for the huge room so decided to stick to my room with all the fancy taps.

Some of the porters
Day 3:  This time there was no misunderstanding and my driver dropped me at the Kibati station (trailhead for Nyiragongo) by 9:00.  It was quite a big group of people and thank goodness I asked for a porter because it turned out to be quite steep and it was very humid.  I hiked most of the way with a group of elderly men from Singapore. 

At one stage, a tourist was really struggling and my porter offered to carry his backpack as well. 



Once on top, I was shown to a shelter where I quickly changed into warm clothes.  The wind was howling and it was freezing. Luckily I had enough warm clothes to hand out to some girls who were freezing.  


Shelters on top of the volcano
Booze for sale at start of hike
Someone played Lucky Dube’s music and we all started dancing to keep warm.  Back in my shelter which I shared with one of the guides, I could not miss the smell of something rotting.  It turned out to be my backpack that was full of my porter’s sweat.

Dancing to get warm
On top of Nyiragongo
The active volcano - breathtaking
Day 4: After coffee, we started descending.  I could feel my legs and once down, I repacked everything.  The sweat smell was overwhelming.  I was driven to the border and took a bus back to Kigali where I spend one night before flying back to sunny South Africa.

Rwanda - July 2012

Karisimbi, the highest mountain in Rwanda:  I can’t keep up with the different time zones – this morning I was an hour early.  

I had Mr Day - the movie star - as my guide, Emmanuel, a feisty Italian who demanded to either have his own guide or a $100 discount as fellow hiker. John (my poor porter that had to carry my smelly backpack and then Claude - Mr Day’s porter. 

The feisty Italian
Mr Day

20 wood carriers and … 20 soldiers.  I was expecting 2 rangers with weapons to scare buffaloes away.  I am dying to take pics but was explicitly told that it was forbidden. One carried a bazooka that I was sure would blow 10 elephants up in 1 go.  I huffed and puffed for 6 hours before I pitched my tent at 3500 m. 


Our campsite
Mr Day and 2 porters slept in a contraption that looks like a manger. Except for 2 soldiers, the rest are inconspicuous.  

At 16:00, whilst I was sitting around a fire, they appeared out of nowhere before they disappeared again in different directions, carrying some wood. They were still grumpy – or  maybe they were instructed not to smile and mix with tourists?  It seemed as if Mr Day had  flu.  I crawled into my tent to read at 18:00.


I was halfway dressed before I realised it was only 04:00 and not 5:00 so I tried to be quiet till the Italian’s alarm went off.  I love hiking in the dark, so without consulting the Italian, I woke Mr Day at 5:10 and advised him to stay in his manger and sleep off his flu. 
Hiking through some bushes

I knew we had John, Claude and an undisclosed number of soldiers to prevent me from getting lost. 3 hours of huffing and puffing followed and because of the altitude, I had to rest often. I also took some pictures of the soldiers whenever I thought I could get away with it.

The last bit to the top was quite slippery, but luckily they had some fixed ropes to hold on to.  I was disappointed with all the steel and other building material lying on top – but I trust Mr Day will make sure that the Parks board remove it. 

The last stretch to the top
I hauled out the South African flag and several pictures were taken BEFORE I was approached by 3 soldiers who asked me if they could take a picture with me.  I was flabbergasted. A photo shoot on top of Karisimbi with the 3 soldiers followed.  Two of them still refused to smile and unfortunately, the one put down his gun to take selfies so I still don’t have any good pictures of the weapons.



On top of Karisimbi
I took my time going down the steep volcano (5 hours).  I knew I was going to miss being called “Missis’ by the Italian guy, “Madam” by Mr Day, “Mam” by the porters and … well, being ignored by the soldiers.

On top of the clouds


"Gorillas in the mist"

My experience with the Mountain Gorillas of Rwanda left me with many mixed emotions. 

The start of the hike
Being so close to these majestic apes in their habitat was humbling. The gorillas are enormous and you always had the feeling that they know you were in their territory and that they had the upper hand. Our presence did not seem to bother them, however they were very aware of us.  We were able to see them in their own environment doing “gorilla” things and this was an awesome experience. 

It was absolutely awesome
 
2 meters from the group
You are only allowed to be near them for one hour to minimize the stress to the animal and I found it difficult to decide if I should just observe or use the time to take photos and videos.  One did not want to miss anything and looking through a viewfinder seemed to restrict the view of the family so close to us.

The "brother" who played with everyone
The incessant noise of the shutters and beeps from the cameras also did not seem natural but in hindsight I am glad I did take photos/videos as IO have watched them over and over again and have relieved the experience and see different things every time.

A Chameleon
The whole experience left one me with a feeling that we as humans need to do more to ensure that our children get to see these great apes in their natural habitat and the high park fees which we paid are helping to pay for the guards, the local villagers and much more, therefore ensuring the park’s viability and sustainability.

The group which we went with included an American ape veterinarian.
 
Her experience in conjunction with the local guard and park ranger left us with a better appreciation of the gorillas and their unique behaviour.  This included trying to learn ”gorilla” and the sounds they make to communicate amongst each other.  The one sound we needed to know was how to calm them down and literally say “we come in peace”

Whilst on the mountain we also got to see the mountain buffalo and many different plant species and this made the trip something to remember.

 After bidding our fellow group members and guides farewell, I left, humbled and very aware that I had just been fortunate to experience something very special.
 
The 9 month old baby captured everyone's heart
  


Mt Bisoko (Volcano)

The last two days have been hectic.  After arriving in Rwanda for the first time, I was informed that my permit to climb Karisimbi had been evoked – apparently there were some safety issues. 

I had two choices.  I could stay in the Guest house for two days or I could jump in a taxi and go back to Uganda where two volcanoes awaited. 

Two days later, the official at the border couldn’t believe his eyes.  I have been in and out of the country four times. 

The first and fourth time, I walked across the border.  The second time I crossed the border while hiking to Mt. Sabinyo . The third time, I dove into lake Mutavaru and swam in the freezing water to Rwanda. 

I was treated like a VIP at the guest house I have left in such a hurry after I was informed that I won’t be able to climb Karisimbi. 


A Map of all the volcanoes
Climbing Bisoko:  Stuart Martin has joined me the previous evening and after being picked up at 04h00, a bumpy ride to the Rwanda Parksboard offices followed. After being entertained by the local dancers, we were on our way to the start. Once again, it was a steep uphill – but what a beautiful hike.  The rest of the group rushed to the top but this was Stuart’s first big mountain and we took it step by step. It was a good thing, because we got to see one of the five Rwenzori Toracoes in the area.  Our guide also “confessed” to me that he used to be a poacher and that he started at the age of three.  His family had no other income and this was the only way to survive.  I felt very ashamed for being so quick to judge. 

We had a cut-off time and I was getting a bit nervous.  Suddenly our guide shouted “Well done, you have reached the half way mark!” My first thoughts were that we will never make it – but Stuart just carried on – and not long after, we reached the top.  I think any other person would have given up, and turned back. Once again, I have learned a valuable lesson. 

On top
The hike down was supposed to be a lot easier, but it was extremely slippery, and Stuart discovered immediately that his hiking boot had no grip on them.  No matter what he did, he fell all the way down. The guides and porters were very concerned, especially after he got a bit cranky and swore a bit – but I tried to put them all at ease by videotaping some of his falls. For some reason, it didn’t have a very positive effect on some people. 


It was very steep and very slippery
It was a huge relief when we finally got to the forest at the bottom where we hit the jackpot.  A big silverback crossed the path and what an awesome and unexpected experience.  After hearing him beating his chest on the way up, we now had our exposure of the “gorillas in the mist”.  

A quick clean-up followed walking through the village and when I remarked that Rwanda is an extremely clean country, our guide told me that they had a clean-up every month and that it was illegal to bring plastic bags into the country. 

Someone was doing something right in Rwanda.

The Clean-up




Uganda - Mt Muhavura

It was whilst descending Mt. Sabinyo that I was told about Mt. Muhavura, the highest volcano in Uganda. I was also told that you can swim to Rwanda, and my fatemind was made up.   

Mt Muhavura - the highest volcano in Uganda (4127m)
After a rejuvenating shower, I went for supper where I bumped into two Hollanders who told me about this crazy lady that wants to swim to Rwanda. “Oh, I said.  That's me.  Do you want to join me?” 

For some reason, they only decided to join me for the hike. I had to get back to Rwanda before the border closed the next day so the idea was that I leave very early and that they would come later with a taxi and that I would bump into them coming down.   

The start - 2381 m
My legs were still a bit shaky after climbing the 1300m to Mt. Sabinyo’s peak the day before, but when the motorbike stopped in front of the backpacker’s at 04h30, I ran outside, ready to climb Mt. Muhavura.   

In the beginning, I thought it was quite funny that the motorbike driver had to stop every now and again to answer his cellphone.  An hour later, I was no longer amused.  The Hollander’s taxi, which left an hour after me, arrived at the parks gate at exactly the same time.
 
“Go, Go, Go”, they shouted and I started running. I was stopped by the guide, who said he knew I had to get across the border to Rwanda but that I had to wait for the other two.  An hour later, a decision was made. I would take one guide and a porter with me, and the other two would follow.  The super fit porter and guide were a true inspiration, and I followed huffing and puffing, using a lot of mind over matter to convince myself that this was just a walk in the park. 

It was freezing, and although a bit disappointed, I have convinced myself that a swim on top was out of the question.

All of a sudden, we were at the top. “So that’s the lake”, I asked!  “Yes, that’s the lake”, came the reply.  "How high is it?", I asked. "4137m", they shouted.
 
Much to my guide and porter’s surprise, I started stripping.  When it was only my thermal undies left, I jumped in. The water was absolutely freezing, but I made it to the other side.  


Swimming to Rwanda
Somehow, I managed to get back into my warm clothes, but it took me a good hour before I stopped shivering. Running down, I passed the two Hollanders.  “You didn’t”, they shouted. 

“Hmmm, I was going to, and then I was not going to, but in the end, I did it! Life is too short not to do it” 

On top of Mt Muhavura - freezing after my swim
Thankfully, my motorbike driver was waiting patiently. I gave the driver explicit instructions not to use his phone, which must have unsettled him, because he drove like a lunatic. I closed my eyes and prayed! Ten minutes before the border closed, I greeted the surprised border official again.   I had crossed the Rwanda/Uganda border no less than four times during the past two days.

Uganda - Mt Sabinyo

In Africa, things don’t always work out the way we plan.

I arrived in Rwanda with anticipation for my climb up Mt Karisimbi, only to discover that my permit had now been revoked due to safety issues. I was left with two choices.
1. stay in my guest house for two days or,
2. go back to Uganda and climb the volcanoes there.

Three hours later I was back in Uganda, much to the immigration officer’s surprise.

Mt Sabinyo (3669m)
I had not prepared myself for any of the climbs in Uganda. I was told that if you summit Mt Sabinyo, you are on the border of the DRC, Uganda and Rwanda. Mt Sabinyo is also called 'Old Man's Teeth' because unlike the conical summits of the surrounding peaks, the serrated summit resembles worn teeth in a gum line.

What they didn’t tell me was that it was a 1300m elevation gain, steep and exposed.

I was joined by two couples, who started too fast for me. At first, I thought I wouldn't make it but at the first hut, I caught up with them.  The altitude was getting to some of them and if it wasn’t for the vegetation and the ladders, the hike to the top would have been extremely scary.

Having set my foot on the border of DRC, Uganda and Rwanda, I was more than ready to head down. 

It was very steep!

After the first 50m descend, I had to stop and wait for a while for my legs to stop shaking and welcomed the break.   

On our way down Mt Sabinyo, I was told about Mt Muhavura, the highest volcano in Uganda.  I was also told that you could swim to Rwanda once you get to the top.  I decided there and then that I was going to climb Mt Muhavura the following day.

Breathtaking view


 
On the Rwanda/Uganda and DRC border

Uganda - Rwenzori

There’s something magical about Ruwenzori.  I’m notorious for crying when I have to get off a mountain. In 2005, I made history (I think), by crying when I set eyes on the mountain of the moon.  Due to bad weather, we didn’t make it to the top – but I left a big chunk of my heart behind and I knew I would return.

It was Thursday, the 5th of June 2012 – and things didn’t go as planned. A dove flew through the lounge window the evening before we had to leave and once at the airport 
  • We were informed that we needed a proof of residence before we could exchange money
  • We were informed that our yellow fever cards were needed – and our newly bubble wrapped luggage had to be un-bubble wrapped.
  • The boarding pass got lost
  • The cell phone charger was left behind. 
But, I was lucky – it all happened to Christa, who was all flustered once we finally got on the aeroplane. All I had to do was keep her calm. 

That evening we stayed at Hein and Helle (A Norwegian diplomat’s) house and I was past relieved when I discovered that the earplugs I brought with worked. 
 
The next morning, I was up, one eager beaver and I almost didn’t notice that there was no running water. Diplomat’s house or not – this was Africa. 
 
My heart felt faint when I finally got to see the Mountain of the moon again – and I could just gawk the whole 50 km she was visible. 
 
At the Rwenzori backpackers, our guides/porters and gear were quickly sorted out and then it was time for a cold beer and supper. 
 
7 July 2012: A hectic 4X4 ride started the day and after being briefed by the ranger, we could finally start our hike.  A steady climb through a pristine montane forest followed the first two kilometres and we couldn’t believe our luck when we stumbled upon a three horned chameleon.   
The three horned chameleon
After lunch, we passed a rock shelter and it was after entering the bamboo zone, that the climb got steeper. Excited about all the birds and sounds of the forests, it was a bit of a disappointment when we arrived at the hut so soon.  I was expecting a dilapidated hut (which would have worked for me).  Instead, Sine hut, a nice wooden structure at 2596 m and Nescafe coffee awaited us. 
 
Helle has informed us the day before that we should just inform the people that we needed to go for a short call, and they would understand that we needed to empty our bladders. I think all the fresh air and the fact that I don’t get enough Omega 3 in, must have contributed to the fact that I kept on telling the guides that I was going for a short fall instead.  
 
Whilst we admired the birds, the porters and guides made two camps and planted grass they brought up from the lunch spot.  I could not stop laughing when Christa mentioned that she couldn’t believe how brave the trees were growing against the steep hills. 
 
The earplugs worked their magic again that evening. 
 
8 July: Our five star breakfast included eggs, sausages and tomatoes. The bog has started - so except for Helle, we were all armed with Wellingtons. 
Stuck in the bog!
I couldn’t get enough of the magical sounds surrounding us and decided to stick with Christa and Robert – the guide and bird expert. It was an extremely sensible decision.  Amongst the endemic birds spotted was a Rwenzori Touraco. 
 
Steep uphills, boggy patches, ladders and some spectacular falls in the mud, which I have been fortunate to capture on video, made the day extra special.  I was now in the possession of truly amazing moments on the special Rwenzori – and it was only the second day.
 
I decided to refrain from any caffeine intake after 18h00 and only one short call was called for during the evening.  
The lovely Margherita peak

9 July: Despite the fact that a part of Rwenzori was badly burned two weeks ago, another breath-taking hike followed. At some stages, we were surrounded by mountains and my heart overflowed. This special mountain, together with the altitude, left me breathless. The temporary erected tent was a pleasant surprise.  Unfortunately, previous hikers have left their rubbish lying around, but after a clean-up the camp everyone could go back to sleep.

10 July: Blaming the altitude for my appetite, I gobbled up three pancakes before facing lots of bush, steep hills and rocks.   My hiking poles height varied between 110 cm to 130 cm, it drizzled but I treasured every second on this mountain. Once again, Hunwick hut was a pleasant surprise – and too comfortably, I snored myself awake and decided to offer the rest of the team some of my earplugs. 
 
11 July: Another remarkable day in the mountain followed, where much to my surprise, we had toasted cheese and tomato (my favourite meal) for lunch. My admiration for our guides/porters and cook soared to new heights.
 
Once at Margareta hut, all the equipment was tested before snuggling up for the evening. It was heart-warming listening to the happy chattering of the porter and guides.
 
12 July: I woke up at 03h15, my heart palpitating.  I was scared and simultaneously excited.  Hein decided to stay behind after experiencing trouble with his breathing and at 04h30, our two guides, Helle and myself started our adventure to the top. 

I thanked my lucky stars that it was still dark when we started using ropes to get up some rocks and just before sunrise, we reached the first glacier. Being tied to Helle and William, listening to the crunching sound of the snow, I felt like a true mountaineer. 

Just after reaching the end of the first glacier, Helle decided to turn around and Enoch escorted her. Poor William had no choice – I was adamant to carry on. Because the rocks were so slippery, we kept our crampons on and had to concentrate very hard not to fall. It was therefore quite a surprise when William called out – “The start of the Margareta glacier”.  
Finally on top!
I looked up, and almost fainted.  A sheer 20 m ice wall stared me in the face! I was on the verge of hyperventilating when I realised that it was a fantastic thing that I didn’t know what was lying ahead of me. I had to get to the top! Once on top, I can start hyperventilating thinking about getting down!

Kick the left crampon in, kick the right crampon in, swing the ice-axe, say a prayer and don’t look down!  Kick the left crampon in, kick the right crampon in, swing the ice-axe, say a prayer and don’t look down!  

And now to get down!
Once on top, I try my level best to stop my body from shaking.  The worst is over. From now on, it will be a piece of cake. 

Luckily, I didn’t know what was lying ahead of me! An extremely steep “hill” followed. “Left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot, look back and count till 20 before repeating the exercise”.  William encourages me by telling me that we are almost at the top.  But I am an African and I tell him that I don’t need encouragement.  I know that time and distance is irrelevant in Africa. Besides, I was enjoying the suffering and was extremely glad that I didn’t know what to expect. 

“We’re almost there”, remarks William, and to my surprise, the snow has stopped, but huge rocks waited – and it involved a lot of fixed ropes. One step at a time, one step at a time. Trust William – and then a thought rossed my mind – what if something happens to William!


William leading the way
A more exposed ledge followed and finally, we were on top! The wind was howling and after the usual pictures, we decided to go down. 

Getting back on the glazier, swinging from one rope to the next, I did a lot of praying.

Hiking across the glazier, I shouted in awe, prayed and swore a lot. How am I going to get down the glacier!  Reminding myself that nothing can be worse than public speaking, I calmed down – for a second or two. 

Too soon, we faced the 20m sheer drop!  I watched in awe while William used the ice-screws, and after what felt like ages, I was abseiling down the ice.   
 
William busy with the ice screws
Safely on the ground, it was time for another prayer. “Dear God, please don’t let anything happen to William.  If something happens to him, we’re in big trouble!”The angels were with us! William made it safely down the Margarita Glacier and the hike down to the hut felt like a piece of cake – rock climbing and all.  Once again, I was extremely grateful for starting in the dark and having no clue what lay ahead. I was welcomed like a hero and a toasted cheese and tomato sandwich was handed to me! I felt like Sir Edmond Hillary!

My legs were still very shaky but I made it down to Hunwick Camp.  It has been a long day and overcoming my fears took their toll. I was planning on summiting Mt Baker the next morning, starting at 04h00 with Enoch, but since my legs were still shaky, I decided to sleep in till 06h00! 
Shaky legs, steep downhills and bog!

The next three days were filled with magical moments, getting everyone to clean-up the camps and serious down-hills, which resulted in some serious toe-jams. 

After crying for 3 straight hours, I must have looked a sight arriving at the park gate. I didn’t want to leave this beautiful mountain, but I vowed that I will be back – to spend at least a month on her. 

A night in Queen Elizabeth Park was extremely extravagant and I made the most of this luxury. I treated myself to a facial/pedicure/manicure, the works. A luxurious bath was next on my agenda – but since I have used up all the hot water trying to get the bog out of my hiking clothes, I had to do with a quick cold bath.
The clean-up

Then it was time to overcome my fear of travelling alone.  The group dropped me off in Mbabara and like before, an angel appeared and escorted me to the taxi rank, where, thanks to my 3 month trip in West-Africa, I felt quite at home.  
 
The 4 hour taxi ride to Kisoro took a bit longer and after 24 hours, I finally arrived in Kisoro.




 
The cause? Extreme downhill toe-jam