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
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.
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”.
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!
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!
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.
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!
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.
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.
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.
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.
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! |
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! |
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 |
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 |
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 |
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