Machame Route Day 1 and 2: A rough start and a piece of home

Here's the start of the trek, in all of it's unedited glory...

8/25, morning, Machame gate. Dozens of tourists, hundreds of porters, piles of duffels.We found our friends from the airport, all of us dressed to the mountaineering nines and ready to go. I inaugurated our trip by falling out of bed this morning--woke up as my neck hit the chair. Not quite sure what my body was thinking, except that I think the wake up call triggered a reflex to jump out of bed and run to a code, but the rest of me didn't get the memo. I'm hoping a sore neck is all I'm taking away from it.

Machame Gate--the start of an incredible trek

Noon. Still waiting to start. Our guide has had some trouble with all the permits and fees and we're sitting around, hearing yet another "you have to wait a few more minutes." I've run through 2 of Mother Teresa's power novenas and hoping that this isn't an indication of the general organization of the trip. It's frustrating having no control, but I'm just trying to offer it up as part of the pilgrimage.

Tea and popcorn for snack

1845. Sitting in the mess tent by candlelight. We've had tea and popcorn and figured out the toilet tent and unpacked a bit. Today's hike was 5 miles and we did it in about 4 hours. The jungle was striking, as was our first view of the peak. We learned a few Swahili words (dada, baba, nzuri sana). There are 26 guides and porters for the 4 of us, carrying all of our tents, food, water gear. [sounds TOTALLY excessive, I know. But apparently that's about par. If you think about all the food, tents, dishes, propane gas, water buckets/filter, etc., it makes sense. And we were grateful for every single one. I'm convinced we had one of the best crews on the mountain.] O2 sats 98%, heart rate 78. [twice a day we took vitals to monitor our adjustment to the altitude. Unsurprisingly, like everything in our family, it became a competition for highest sats--the 98% on this day won for the trip--and lowest HR--Mary hit 50 on one day.]

Our awesome group of porters, cooks, and guides

Tutaonana kesho.

9/26, 0900. Day 2. Slept about par for camping. In other words, pretty crappy. But having the toilet tent makes is so much easier to go in the middle of the night. Stupid Diamox. I went 8 times in 24 hours.

Lunch. A few hours of steep hiking this morning. More gorgeous weather. The path was dusty, single or double file in most spots, allowing for the porters to pass us. They are quite a sight. Their own backpacks on, and huge bags, tents, foods, buckets, etc. resting atop their heads or behind their necks. They have an array of varied hand-me-downs for clothes and gear--everything from REI packs and Asolo boots to American t-shirts (Purdue!) and Vans. [weirdest clothes I saw on the porters: hot pink spandex pants, loafers, girl's high school volleyball t-shirt, and cut-off denim shorts] And they carry their double load right past us to set up for lunch.

1800. Tonight we ate with Efata ("Shanta"), our assistant guide. We found out this is his first trip as guide. We talked about movies and motorcycles and music. "Do you know 'Jolene'?" Oh man, do we ever! [This was the start of several days of all of us breaking out singing the Dolly Parton hit, including both of our guides and even a guide from another group; apparently "Jolene" is very popular in Tanzania. What are the odds of finding someone who even knows this song, much less all the words?!] I love learning about the guides and their lives. Shanta gets to see his family for 2 days and then goes back on the mountain. But, as he says, "What can I do?"

Shanta, our assistant guide. Roll Tide!