This just in...from Amy.
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Thursday, February 19, 2009
No News Is Terrific News
Not like I'm glued to my desk chair waiting or anything like that, but I've had not a word from our fearless travelers. To me, this must mean, a) they're busy having a great time; b) all are in direct communication with most of you via e-mail, etc.; c) Karen has read all my petty hair comments and cut me off. It's probably all of them, isn't it?
Well, they'll be home before you know it so I'll sign off from here. We're -- and by "we" I mean me and this entire massive blog community -- are proud of every one of you. Safe travels back home. YY
Monday, February 16, 2009
Badhair Mountain
Bad hair can happen anytime, any place or even every day, as it threatens to do for me and this guy on the left (proving that money cannot, in fact, buy everything). Bad hair is a legitimate problem so props to Courtney for the delicate way in which she handled this exchange with Kristen (relayed to me by Karen):
Scene: Somewhere on Mount Kilimanjaro. Kristen fusses with her hair, adjusts her hat, fusses more with her hair and makes final adjustment to hat. Courtney stands nearby, waiting.
Kristen: How do I look?
Courtney, glancing up at Kristen's hair and then pausing: Do you want the real answer or the mountain answer?
Summit Photos
I just got these photos from Gillman's and Uhuru (below) from Elleke this morning. I don't think they need any commentary, do you?
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Notes About the Summit (Elleke! I feel your pain!)
Karen called me this evening from Ngare Sero Lodge with a few updates since we last spoke and a bit of color commentary on the summit. The crew arrived at Ngare Sero last night around 7. Something to keep in mind is that after you've hiked through the night to summit, you have to walk back down four or five hours to Kibo, sleep deprived and sliding through rock scree. Back at Kibo, you get a brief rest, swap stories about the night and morning's climb, then hike five more hours to where you'll camp that night. The next day, you hike five to six hours more to exit the park and move on to a real hotel. Like with a shower.
On the last five mile stretch on our trip, my friend Sarah asked me if I thought I was able to summit because I had run marathons and knew what hanging in there was like. To which I replied, "Sarah. It takes me about four hours to run a marathon. Then I go home and have a nap and then friends come in a car and take me out for a beer or two and dinner. This is nothing like a marathon."
Needless to say, all slept well that night. Even Elleke. Elleke! I sat on this information and didn't share it -- what was the point, I thought, it doesn't happen to all that many people. But some people experience the effects of altitude in a slightly different way. Some people, like, say, Elleke and...me...experience complete insomnia past a certain point on the mountain. Remember when I mentioned a few posts back that I spent time looking at the midnight stars at Mawenzi Tarn? That wasn't completely voluntary. I was wide awake for three days. When Karen told me tonight that Elleke made it to Uhuru summit after not sleeping for several nights, I remembered what that felt like. And it ain't pretty! So I hate to play favorites but I have to give a special Sleepless Summit Sister shout out to Elleke -- congratulations and very pleasant dreams to you once you again reach sea level.
More notes on the summit night and morning from Karen:
Judy -- bolted right up the mountain, all smiles and full of boundless energy.
Courtney -- made it all look effortless.
Jen Tarr -- calm, calm, calm, and a soothing source of wisdom.
Kristen and Meg -- tag team honesty at Gillman. Meg spoke for both when she said, "I got to Gillman's and I can't tell you anything I saw but my feet." Meg then proceeded to slide through the scree all the way back down to Kibo, occasionally propped upright by a guide or two.
Eric -- had all good intentions of making the trek from Gillman's to Uhuru but said, "Nobody told me it was going to be this hard!" (of course not, then you wouldn't have even tried!).
Nancy and Kim -- moved slowly, purposefully and carefully (and smartly!) up the mountain.
Amy -- hung back for the first day or two then turned on incredible strength to summit.
Jen Miller -- the smile. Always the smile.
Tom had decided in advance that he would stop at Kibo and wait to welcome back the team as they descended.
Nearly everyone had a moment of breaking down in fatigue or frustration (after my third night without sleep I walked into the mess tent on the day of the ascent and, as my co-hikers looked up, waiting to see whether I had actually managed to sleep that night, I simply burst into sobs - a proud moment!) -- but by the time they made dinner at the lovely Ngare Sero this evening, all were back on their games: a glass of wine or two, a great dinner, laughing and trading stories.
A few more summit notes tomorrow before I taper off while the group heads from adventure into vacation. Goodnight all (especially Elleke!).
Saturday, February 14, 2009
ROTS: Part 2
Shortly after leaving Gillman's and setting out along the ridgeline toward Uhuru, Eric opted to turn back. Though Karen didn't mention conditions, on our trip this portion of the trail is icy and just when you're so tired you can't stand it a second longer you have to pay incredibly close attention to where you step. As the sun comes up, the ice begins to melt some -- you're glad for the modicum of warmth on your face but can't seem to decide if it's worth the increased trouble it's creating underfoot.
Uhuru is about three hours further along the crater rim. Finally, the summit is at least in sight ahead. And to your left is the massive glacier. For me, this was more moving than the summit itself -- I have no idea why. Probably just lightheaded from lack of altitude. But there was something about this massive glistening Coke bottle-green jewel ... it made me weepy.
Finally, they arrive at Uhuru -- Judy, Elleke, Jen Miller, Courtney and Amy. The snow around the sign is tamped down hard by the hundreds of feet that will have circled around it, posed in front of it. Buddhist prayer flags hung from the sign on our summit day. The guides will only allow them to stay for a few photographs and a few moments of reflection before they hurry them along, down out of the thinnest air and back toward Kibo.
Seven months of training for about seven minutes at the summit -- to me, it was all worth it. I hope it was for you as well. Many congratulations!
And now, the rest of the story: Part 1
Karen called early this morning from some number I didn't recognize -- all other cellphones are dead, a combination of no chargers and the cold temperatures. They had arrived at Horombo Huts a short time earlier and she had just enough juice left in the cellphone to blurt out the list of names (below) and a few other tidbits.
The summit ascent begins around midnight from Kibo Camp. Let me say a few words about Kibo Camp. It's kind of gross. You know what -- not "kind of," no, it's really gross. Kibo is the point at which all the different trails converge to the summit trail and you get a sense of just how heavily trafficked this mountain really is (about 22,000 people a year attempt to hike it). It's actually crowded and, get this, kind of dirty. You'd think if there were a ven diagram with one circle labeled "All People" and the other circle labeled "People Who Are Able to Hike to Just Over 15,400 Feet," which is where Kibo is, the overlapping part would be labeled "Non-Litterers." But it's not. Not if Kibo Camp is any indication, anyway.
So the Kibo drill is this: you have dinner in camp then go to sleep for a few hours. Tom decided to stay at Kibo but around midnight, the rest of the crew layered on pretty much every piece of clothing they brought along, strapped on their headlamp and began the ascent.
When we spoke, Karen mentioned the full moon had only just begun to wane, so the trail was somewhat illuminated, but it is still the middle of the night."Pole, pole" is Swahili for "slowly, slowly," and will be repeated again and again by the guides throughout the night. The air is thin, the trail is steep, breathing is very labored, and footing is a bit of a challenge -- no one had to tell me to go slowly but some of those over-ambitious types may need reminding.
Did I mention the cold? Karen said the weather was good overall for summit night but the wind picked up as they climbed. They would have made frequent stops along the way -- at least every hour, sometimes more frequently, to drink (until the hose from your camelback water pouch freezes -- good times!), regulate their breathing somewhat.
At Jamaica Rocks (around 18,200 feet) the lead guides, Meke and Moosa, separated Karen from the crew...something about looking at her tongue...and then sent her back down. They won't take risks with altitude sickness. I thought the separating from the group part was important. It can be demoralizing to watch one of your teammates go back down. On our trip, any competitiveness had evaporated by this point -- people realized how incredibly hard it really was going to be and focused only on what they could accomplish. Because you're winding your way up in a single file line, though, it's hard to keep tabs on anything but the boots of the person directly in front of you, so you often don't know when people are sent down. I think that was especially wise on the guides' part for this crew since many of them have trained together for so long and a departure would have sent some serious confidence ripples through the entire team.
Karen was understandably very disappointed, but something in her little body just doesn't like the thin air. She's accomplished something amazing and meaningful by pulling this trip together and has guided this group through months of training -- I reminded her of that but also reminded her that she had every right to be completely hacked off. For a while. And I didn't even make a snide (jealous) remark about her hair.
It will take over six hours to reach the first summit, Gillman's. First summit means that you have reached "a" top of the crater, the first point on the ridgeline that will rise up to Uhuru summit. The vast bowl is open in front of you (another "whoa...that's kinda high!" with a slight lurch of the stomach moment for me) and behind you, the trail you've just ascended, is bathed in the oranges and golds of sunup. It was here that Meg, Kristen, Jen Tarr, Kim and Nancy bid the remaining group goodbye...
...more in a few minutes.
The summit ascent begins around midnight from Kibo Camp. Let me say a few words about Kibo Camp. It's kind of gross. You know what -- not "kind of," no, it's really gross. Kibo is the point at which all the different trails converge to the summit trail and you get a sense of just how heavily trafficked this mountain really is (about 22,000 people a year attempt to hike it). It's actually crowded and, get this, kind of dirty. You'd think if there were a ven diagram with one circle labeled "All People" and the other circle labeled "People Who Are Able to Hike to Just Over 15,400 Feet," which is where Kibo is, the overlapping part would be labeled "Non-Litterers." But it's not. Not if Kibo Camp is any indication, anyway.
So the Kibo drill is this: you have dinner in camp then go to sleep for a few hours. Tom decided to stay at Kibo but around midnight, the rest of the crew layered on pretty much every piece of clothing they brought along, strapped on their headlamp and began the ascent.
When we spoke, Karen mentioned the full moon had only just begun to wane, so the trail was somewhat illuminated, but it is still the middle of the night."Pole, pole" is Swahili for "slowly, slowly," and will be repeated again and again by the guides throughout the night. The air is thin, the trail is steep, breathing is very labored, and footing is a bit of a challenge -- no one had to tell me to go slowly but some of those over-ambitious types may need reminding.
Did I mention the cold? Karen said the weather was good overall for summit night but the wind picked up as they climbed. They would have made frequent stops along the way -- at least every hour, sometimes more frequently, to drink (until the hose from your camelback water pouch freezes -- good times!), regulate their breathing somewhat.
At Jamaica Rocks (around 18,200 feet) the lead guides, Meke and Moosa, separated Karen from the crew...something about looking at her tongue...and then sent her back down. They won't take risks with altitude sickness. I thought the separating from the group part was important. It can be demoralizing to watch one of your teammates go back down. On our trip, any competitiveness had evaporated by this point -- people realized how incredibly hard it really was going to be and focused only on what they could accomplish. Because you're winding your way up in a single file line, though, it's hard to keep tabs on anything but the boots of the person directly in front of you, so you often don't know when people are sent down. I think that was especially wise on the guides' part for this crew since many of them have trained together for so long and a departure would have sent some serious confidence ripples through the entire team.
Karen was understandably very disappointed, but something in her little body just doesn't like the thin air. She's accomplished something amazing and meaningful by pulling this trip together and has guided this group through months of training -- I reminded her of that but also reminded her that she had every right to be completely hacked off. For a while. And I didn't even make a snide (jealous) remark about her hair.
It will take over six hours to reach the first summit, Gillman's. First summit means that you have reached "a" top of the crater, the first point on the ridgeline that will rise up to Uhuru summit. The vast bowl is open in front of you (another "whoa...that's kinda high!" with a slight lurch of the stomach moment for me) and behind you, the trail you've just ascended, is bathed in the oranges and golds of sunup. It was here that Meg, Kristen, Jen Tarr, Kim and Nancy bid the remaining group goodbye...
...more in a few minutes.
Congratulations!!!!
A quick post with more after I get some coffee but wanted to tell you all are safe and well and incredibly tired and basking in the following accomplishments:
Gillman's (Summit 1) at 18,815 feet:
Megan
Kristen
Jen Tarr
Kim
Nancy
Eric
And the very top, Uhuru (Summit 2) at 19,344 feet:
Judy!
Elleke!
Jen Miller!
Courtney!
Amy!
Dang if that altitude sickness doesn't plague Karen - she went down at Jamaica Rocks. Tom elected to stay back at Kibo Hut. More on everything in a little bit but thought you'd like to know this much.
Friday, February 13, 2009
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Coming Attractions: Expect a Lag
Karen mentioned they may not be able to send any updates until after they summit and come back down a little -- you know, the exciting part. But cell reception is an unknown. I'll certainly post whatever she or anyone else sends, but wanted to caution what I'm sure are the thousands of readers of this blog that it may be a little while.
More on Day 3: Training Matters
So it's cold up there at around 14,000 feet, where the hikers ended up after a tough day three. And the air it noticeably thinner. At a mere 2,400 feet, today’s ascent seems deceptively short compared to day 2. But there’s a lot of up and down in that 2,400 and the up? Very steep. Steep to the point that you know that trainer you’ve periodically (but silently) hated because of her obsession with lunges and all things quads? You love her now. (And we’re talking about you, Chelsea. A big shout of love from Karen’s and Kristen’s thighs!)
Today is nearly all about acclimation. After a few intense uphill hours, during which the landscape abruptly changes from scrub and grasses to starkly barren rocks, the hikers will arrive at Mawenzi Tarn Bivouac and set up camp (right -- yes, I swiped that photo from someone else's site). Mawenzi Tarn, as the tarn in its name implies, is a small lake surrounded by high walls of the mountain. In other words it’s a bowl. Of rock.
After a brief rest, the team will take short but steep hikes up along the rim of Mawenzi’s bowl to expose them to the higher altitude. On those rim hikes was the first time I felt a bit of “Oh. We’re kinda high up, aren’t we?” They are one of the few segments of the trip that feel more like a climb than a hike. But even for acrophobic wimps such as me the forays up to the ridgeline are worth it – my brain and lungs will have some memory of the higher altitude and be better able to adjust when I go higher still the next day. (I hope no medical professionals are reading this since I’m playing pretty fast and loose will the physiology of altitude…)
On our trip, this day was a bit sobering. Several of our team began to struggle with altitude-related symptoms such as headaches, nausea and what the guidebook refers to euphemistically as “irregular digestion.” But holy smokes, according to Courtney and Karen, this team is rocking and though everyone is very understandably tired, they’re otherwise feeling terrific. This bodes very well for ascent day!
I hope their day of bright sunshine gave way to a clear night. My memory of Mawenzi is sitting in the crater in the middle of the night looking up at sprays of stars, vivid against a deep, lush blue-black sky. Though my day-to-day (and night-to-night) life is in a place so full of sodium vapor streetlights that stars are barely visible, I’ve seen skies from other mountains. And they were nothing like this.
Sweet dreams, hikers.
Today is nearly all about acclimation. After a few intense uphill hours, during which the landscape abruptly changes from scrub and grasses to starkly barren rocks, the hikers will arrive at Mawenzi Tarn Bivouac and set up camp (right -- yes, I swiped that photo from someone else's site). Mawenzi Tarn, as the tarn in its name implies, is a small lake surrounded by high walls of the mountain. In other words it’s a bowl. Of rock.
After a brief rest, the team will take short but steep hikes up along the rim of Mawenzi’s bowl to expose them to the higher altitude. On those rim hikes was the first time I felt a bit of “Oh. We’re kinda high up, aren’t we?” They are one of the few segments of the trip that feel more like a climb than a hike. But even for acrophobic wimps such as me the forays up to the ridgeline are worth it – my brain and lungs will have some memory of the higher altitude and be better able to adjust when I go higher still the next day. (I hope no medical professionals are reading this since I’m playing pretty fast and loose will the physiology of altitude…)
On our trip, this day was a bit sobering. Several of our team began to struggle with altitude-related symptoms such as headaches, nausea and what the guidebook refers to euphemistically as “irregular digestion.” But holy smokes, according to Courtney and Karen, this team is rocking and though everyone is very understandably tired, they’re otherwise feeling terrific. This bodes very well for ascent day!
I hope their day of bright sunshine gave way to a clear night. My memory of Mawenzi is sitting in the crater in the middle of the night looking up at sprays of stars, vivid against a deep, lush blue-black sky. Though my day-to-day (and night-to-night) life is in a place so full of sodium vapor streetlights that stars are barely visible, I’ve seen skies from other mountains. And they were nothing like this.
Sweet dreams, hikers.
As a reminder, they're up there freezing and breathing hard for a reason. They're raising money for Global Alliance for Africa, whose goals is to enable communities and households to provide sustainable care and support for orphans and other vulnerable children affected by HIV/AIDS. If you haven't already done so, please consider sponsoring one of this crack team of big hearted hikers -- donations can be made at http://www.globalallianceafrica.org/donation/index.php?hid_dns_type=5
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Good Day Sunshine: Day 2
Here's half the team at the start of the second day. Sunglasses, hats, squinting toward the camera. Not a bad change from yesterday. (Note Karen's hair: perfect.) Obviously, this is only about half the group -- but fear not, Karen says everyone is doing great. She just had no photographic evidence of that to share. When you figure that this group has been traveling together for five days in fairly close proximity and has their legs finally under them actually on the mountain (so much time in anticipation!), breaking into smaller groups happens and throughout the day you find yourself in different combinations of people -- it's not a Lord of the Flies kind of thing. On our trip, it seemed we finally got confident enough to not stay tethered to the entire crew.
But as you can imagine, I'm extrapolating. When you're getting your information via text messages there's a lot of room for that (though I usually don't even need a lot of room).
So how about we get back to the world of facts, then? Sure. Good thing the sun's back, because today they'll be hiking for about seven hours, ascending about 3,300 feet. They'll travel in moorland all day today -- after their breakneck pace through three climate zones yesterday, they'll have plenty of time to take in this sparsely beautiful landscape. At some point early in the day if it's clear, they'll also actually begin to get sight of Kibo, Kilimanjaro's summit crater. Sounds a bit strange, but until this point, they probably haven't been able to get a look at it. ("Oh yea, there's where we're going...") And if you were feeling at all cranky from the rain, the day's sun combined with this majestic view can kick you right back into inspired.
This day positions them for some important altitude acclimation that they'll focus on tomorrow. The route they're hiking up the mountain, the Rongai, is considered to be one of the "easier" of the routes up the mountain -- and, absolutely, "easy" is a relative term here. To my mind "easy" here is synonymous with "good sense," because it means Rongai takes you up the mountain more gradually than other routes, giving your body more time to adjust to changes in altitude. When they put down their packs for the last time today, they'll be at nearly 12,000 feet.
Some might start to feel the effects of altitude at this point -- I did! -- but more will begin to feel them tomorrow. Tomorrow will be a tough day -- in a good way, the way a long run can be tough in its physical challenge. But they're prepared.
Goodnight, hikers (of course they can't read any of this point, but still...). Tomorrow gets exciting in a whole new way, so sleep well.
Rainy Day People: End of Day 1
On the end of the first day they got damp ("rained on and off today") and then they got really damp ("rained like crazy end of day yesterday. Maybe three hours."). To make matters worse, there were *sigh* no monkeys. Maybe in anticipation of the rain. As if I am now a small primate expert.
Yes, it can be a drag to have rain when you're camping, but check out that sky behind them. It's magnificent. You can almost hear it and it seems entirely suitable for the moorlands. Their faces look mostly delighted in spite of the weather. And check out Karen's hair -- still looking good. I'm warning you: it will stay like that the entire trip.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
On the Mountain! Let the Nicknaming Begin!
It's early yet -- only the first day -- and already a nickname has been conferred. More on that in a minute, though I think the photo might have tipped my hand.
By now the hikers have completed their relatively easy introduction to the mountain. After passing through the official entrance to Kilimanjaro, Marangu Gate, they will make their way to the Rongai Trail in Nale Moru Village, at 6,400 feet. It's worth noting that though Kilimanjaro is a national park portions of its land are leased for banana and coffee growing and other agricultural use -- kind of like the U.S. lease-back program for cattle grazing and (ugh) oil drilling. Over the course of three to four hours, they'll ascend about 2,100 feet (and yes, I had to use a meter-to-feet converter to figure that out. I'm American, after all) to their first campsite at Moorland Bivouac.
The good news for we flatlanders (Chicago sits at a mere 600 feet above sea level) is that the hikers already had some altitude acclimation in the hotel last night. Still, you don't want to push it on the first day and there's plenty of reason to amble. For one thing, there are the colobus monkeys just hanging out in the trees in the earliest section of the trail, conversing in that loud monkey way and showing off their bushy black and white tails. I'll be honest -- even though there were also some amazing birds, definitely not your city variety ratty pigeon, the monkeys are show stealing...all that swinging and carrying on.
Eventually, the trail will make its way through a forest path soft with pine needles. I remember eating lunch at a rest area right off the trail, under thick pine cover. (I can do a whole post or two on the food on the trip. And I may have to. As Karen said in today's message, her messages from here out will depend on reception on the mountain, so I may have to "fill." Never a problem for me!)
FYI -- in a short time span they're now in their second climate zone, moving from the cultivation zone of the banana and coffee farms into the forest. They’ll spend the night in their third zone of the day – the moorland, which is marked by heather and scrub plants. Think Catherine and Heathcliff in Wuthering Heights. Only not as sad. Or as British. In all, they'll pass through five climate zones on their way to the summit.
Sometime in the course of this first day, the official nicknaming began. This is a fast start. Usually the guides take a day or two to study your habits and behavior before deciding -- and they're typically both amazingly accurate and slightly embarrassing. But maybe because he is somewhat well known to at least some of the guides and does appear to have a habit of coming back, Tom was christened early: The Tominator.
By now the hikers have completed their relatively easy introduction to the mountain. After passing through the official entrance to Kilimanjaro, Marangu Gate, they will make their way to the Rongai Trail in Nale Moru Village, at 6,400 feet. It's worth noting that though Kilimanjaro is a national park portions of its land are leased for banana and coffee growing and other agricultural use -- kind of like the U.S. lease-back program for cattle grazing and (ugh) oil drilling. Over the course of three to four hours, they'll ascend about 2,100 feet (and yes, I had to use a meter-to-feet converter to figure that out. I'm American, after all) to their first campsite at Moorland Bivouac.
The good news for we flatlanders (Chicago sits at a mere 600 feet above sea level) is that the hikers already had some altitude acclimation in the hotel last night. Still, you don't want to push it on the first day and there's plenty of reason to amble. For one thing, there are the colobus monkeys just hanging out in the trees in the earliest section of the trail, conversing in that loud monkey way and showing off their bushy black and white tails. I'll be honest -- even though there were also some amazing birds, definitely not your city variety ratty pigeon, the monkeys are show stealing...all that swinging and carrying on.
Eventually, the trail will make its way through a forest path soft with pine needles. I remember eating lunch at a rest area right off the trail, under thick pine cover. (I can do a whole post or two on the food on the trip. And I may have to. As Karen said in today's message, her messages from here out will depend on reception on the mountain, so I may have to "fill." Never a problem for me!)
FYI -- in a short time span they're now in their second climate zone, moving from the cultivation zone of the banana and coffee farms into the forest. They’ll spend the night in their third zone of the day – the moorland, which is marked by heather and scrub plants. Think Catherine and Heathcliff in Wuthering Heights. Only not as sad. Or as British. In all, they'll pass through five climate zones on their way to the summit.
Sometime in the course of this first day, the official nicknaming began. This is a fast start. Usually the guides take a day or two to study your habits and behavior before deciding -- and they're typically both amazingly accurate and slightly embarrassing. But maybe because he is somewhat well known to at least some of the guides and does appear to have a habit of coming back, Tom was christened early: The Tominator.
Sleep well, hikers.
Monday, February 9, 2009
Love to You from the Lodge
It's official, they've reached the Kilimanjaro Mountain Lodge, says Karen. And they've met the leader of their porter team. For those of you who hiked with Karen and me last time -- it's Meke! He led our hike as well and took very, very good care of us -- in fact, he almost single-handedly guided me down on summit day. Very experienced and patient. Just what you want in a leader.
Now take out your handkerchiefs, everyone, because here come the personal messages from the hikers Karen just sent me and there is a whole lotta love here:
Karen: Jack and Madeline - I love you. I miss you. I'm so ready to start this climb. I hope to be able to call you from the top so be sure to take your phone with you on vacation. Kisses and lots of love. Mom
Elleke: Hi Anneke, Mia, Ryan and Kiera. I got licked by a giraffe yesterday!! I miss you. Love Mommy
Jen Tarr: Ali and Liza, I met the cutest little African children yesterday. Then I hugged a giraffe!! I miss you - Momma
Nancy: Special greetings and a big hug to Harold and Linda Shainhigh and "hi" to Max and Cash.
Eric: Hi Mom (Smootmom, Judy and Doris) it's great to be home. Getting to know wonderful people and not having to work!!!
Courtney: To my family, friends, and lincoln - your support and love are overwhelming. My heart is so filled by you. Bless you. Hugs.
Jenn M wants to reassure family and friends that she manages to leave the slums without 100 children in tow!!
Amy: Mom I'm doing great and I love you.
Kim: Safe and sound. More later.
Judy says Jambo from Kenya and Tanzania to my family and friends.
Now take out your handkerchiefs, everyone, because here come the personal messages from the hikers Karen just sent me and there is a whole lotta love here:
Karen: Jack and Madeline - I love you. I miss you. I'm so ready to start this climb. I hope to be able to call you from the top so be sure to take your phone with you on vacation. Kisses and lots of love. Mom
Elleke: Hi Anneke, Mia, Ryan and Kiera. I got licked by a giraffe yesterday!! I miss you. Love Mommy
Jen Tarr: Ali and Liza, I met the cutest little African children yesterday. Then I hugged a giraffe!! I miss you - Momma
Nancy: Special greetings and a big hug to Harold and Linda Shainhigh and "hi" to Max and Cash.
Eric: Hi Mom (Smootmom, Judy and Doris) it's great to be home. Getting to know wonderful people and not having to work!!!
Courtney: To my family, friends, and lincoln - your support and love are overwhelming. My heart is so filled by you. Bless you. Hugs.
Jenn M wants to reassure family and friends that she manages to leave the slums without 100 children in tow!!
Amy: Mom I'm doing great and I love you.
Kim: Safe and sound. More later.
Judy says Jambo from Kenya and Tanzania to my family and friends.
On the Eve of the Climb
The crew made its way to Vijana today, a job training center in Arusha, Tanzania. This is one of the places your donations will support. I would have more first hand information about their visit there if I wasn't half asleep when Karen called this morning to give me an update. Totally my fault! But in my defense, Karen's ringtone is the 1970s A.M. radio classic, Wildfire (long story), and hearing those melodic strains is a hard way to wake up at 5:15. So what I've got are the couple of photos she sent via text (above), a comment about about no internet service and an assurance that everyone was doing great. I'll change the ringtone today.
I can tell you from my own visit to a similar Global Alliance Program when Karen and I hiked Kilimanjaro a couple years ago that the training center can be a pretty inspiring and humbling place. The kids in the top photo are learning bicycle repair, a skill they can parlay into a job. For those of you who are Chicagoans, many of the bikes these kids will practice on come from Working Bikes Cooperative (www.workingbikes.org), a Chicago-based non-profit. Working Bikes takes donated bikes and repairs them -- shipping some to developing countries and funding its operation by the bikes it sells in its south Western Avenue shop. So consider donating bikes there or even buying one. A couple years ago, my youngest son bought an old Stingray-like bike that was in great working condition but completely ugly -- no matter, because he wanted to "pimp his ride" (yes, I'm sorry that expression is part of my children's vernacular but what can you do?), which he did with about three cans of metallic spray paint and a fair number of car detailing stickers. For about $50 all in, he had about the coolest bike in the neighborhood.
Later, they will head to the Marangu Kilimanjaro Mountain Resort, which puts them fairly close to the gate of the Kilimanjaro trails. I cannot remember something that happened, say, last Friday, but I remember nearly every detail of the climb briefing and equipment check at this resort the night before the climb. I clearly remember the mix of excitement and nervousness. Ok, for me it was mostly a lot of nervousness. And I very clearly remember Karen looking at me with an expression that said, "Seriously. What have you gotten us into this time?" (Well look who's the one who's back there now, missy.)
The resort itself feels like a place suspended in another era. There are dark hallways lined with framed trail maps and a somewhat grand staircase of heavy wood, all buzzing with hikers from all over the world. The rooms are sparse but clean, furnished and decorated sometime in the mid-1950s. It all combines to lend an almost Hemingway feel to the place -- you expect to walk into the bar and meet the archetypal ex-pats: the drunk ex-journalist who has "seen too much" and the dubious former foreign service bureaucrat with something to hide, being served by, I don't know, Ava Gardner in a modified safari outfit. Wait, I think that was Night of the Iguana which was not Hemingway and not even Africa, but I think you know what I mean.
Enough! This is an exciting night for the team even without the drama of Hemingway. Wish them a good night's sleep.
I can tell you from my own visit to a similar Global Alliance Program when Karen and I hiked Kilimanjaro a couple years ago that the training center can be a pretty inspiring and humbling place. The kids in the top photo are learning bicycle repair, a skill they can parlay into a job. For those of you who are Chicagoans, many of the bikes these kids will practice on come from Working Bikes Cooperative (www.workingbikes.org), a Chicago-based non-profit. Working Bikes takes donated bikes and repairs them -- shipping some to developing countries and funding its operation by the bikes it sells in its south Western Avenue shop. So consider donating bikes there or even buying one. A couple years ago, my youngest son bought an old Stingray-like bike that was in great working condition but completely ugly -- no matter, because he wanted to "pimp his ride" (yes, I'm sorry that expression is part of my children's vernacular but what can you do?), which he did with about three cans of metallic spray paint and a fair number of car detailing stickers. For about $50 all in, he had about the coolest bike in the neighborhood.
Later, they will head to the Marangu Kilimanjaro Mountain Resort, which puts them fairly close to the gate of the Kilimanjaro trails. I cannot remember something that happened, say, last Friday, but I remember nearly every detail of the climb briefing and equipment check at this resort the night before the climb. I clearly remember the mix of excitement and nervousness. Ok, for me it was mostly a lot of nervousness. And I very clearly remember Karen looking at me with an expression that said, "Seriously. What have you gotten us into this time?" (Well look who's the one who's back there now, missy.)
The resort itself feels like a place suspended in another era. There are dark hallways lined with framed trail maps and a somewhat grand staircase of heavy wood, all buzzing with hikers from all over the world. The rooms are sparse but clean, furnished and decorated sometime in the mid-1950s. It all combines to lend an almost Hemingway feel to the place -- you expect to walk into the bar and meet the archetypal ex-pats: the drunk ex-journalist who has "seen too much" and the dubious former foreign service bureaucrat with something to hide, being served by, I don't know, Ava Gardner in a modified safari outfit. Wait, I think that was Night of the Iguana which was not Hemingway and not even Africa, but I think you know what I mean.
Enough! This is an exciting night for the team even without the drama of Hemingway. Wish them a good night's sleep.
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Visiting Kibera
Today the team traveled to Kibera, the largest slum in Africa, home to more than 1 million people. The team received an orientation to Global Alliance's work in the area -- many of which are micro-lending programs which provide loans of $50 to $5,000 to help Kibera residents create or expand sustainable small businesses. The three photos above were taken during their visit.
Dancing at the Serena...Flying to Tanzania
Apparently when Karen compared the Serena to our first hotel in Africa she had either forgotten what that hotel was really like or she was using sarcasm with me -- which she doesn't do very much! Mostly because she's too nice! But the Serena actually was quite luxurious, indulgent, she corrected. And even after 24 hours of travel some members of the party had enough energy left to take advantage of the salsa dancing opportunity being offered in the hotel lounge.
Still everyone had a great sleep -- hard when your body clock is such a mess though I'm sure the salsa took some of the edge off.
Following their visit to Kibera today, they'll visit a giraffe park and make the short flight south to Tanzania tonight.
Still everyone had a great sleep -- hard when your body clock is such a mess though I'm sure the salsa took some of the edge off.
Following their visit to Kibera today, they'll visit a giraffe park and make the short flight south to Tanzania tonight.
Saturday, February 7, 2009
This Just In: The Serena Hotel
Sure, you hear the name Serena now and everyone thinks: Williams. And she does rule. But remember on "Bewitched," Samantha had that cousin who was not really evil per se but more mischievious and maybe even a little...uh...loose, shall we say? Didn't she hit on Larry Tate in one episode? She was also played by Elizabeth Montgomery but as a brunette? Her name was Serena, too. She was more or less Samantha's id (Sam and Darren being so hopelessly uptight) and she kind of owned the name Serena first. And I do mean owned it.
So that's what I thought of when Karen sent me this photo from their hotel in Nairobi, called, you guessed it, the Serena. To quote Karen's email, "It's just like the one we stayed in our first night." That is a loaded statement. I won't get in to everything that statement really means because Karen and I will come off as petty. But I will reassure you that it does mean clean and safe. And I'll leave it at that.
They're There!
...in Nairobi, that is -- after a journey that was gruelingly long but blessedly uneventful. Their bags are all there, too. Remarkable. (Why can Northwest not get my bag to Minneapolis something like 40 percent of the time but apparently has the ORD-DTW-NBO thing nailed?) Though Karen didn't say, my guess is that they were off to the hotel for a shower and some sleep -- she did say they were going to visit some of the Global Alliance projects in the Nairobi slums tomorrow. She'd call with an update after that...so stay tuned! (Hey, Kar, Sarah and I toasted you plenty last night at Avec: I hope you felt the luv!)
Friday, February 6, 2009
Off They Go, Into the Wild Blue Yonder
I haven't heard otherwise, so I'll assume the fearless team is well on their way to Detroit by now -- and such a beautiful day for flying in the Midwest. Karen has promised to keep me posted, admonishing me to actually listen to my voicemails for once, and I'll post whenever I hear they've arrived in Nairobi. Meantime, if you're a reader of this blog, feel free to set up the means of commenting...I can always volley questions to the team, say, or send them greetings.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
And the Carla Nuzzo Kilimanjaro Procastination Award Goes To...
I know you have been waiting for this for some time. But as the name implies, this award cannot be given until time has almost completely run out. Plus I just tend to procastinate, as those of you who promptly submitted bios know. So it may come as no surprise that the award is named in honor of...me. It commemorates my own brand of Kilimanjaro procastination, a state which found me getting a passport three days before our departure.
And although it was tough to choose to between AMY and ERIC, both of whom submitted their bios with only days to spare, I had to choose...ERIC SMOOT...because he didn't even submit the bio himself! He had someone else do it! The mark of a true and truly great procastinator!
Congratulations, Eric!
Meet Hiker Eric Smoot
"Even though I've never been to Africa, I feel like I'm going home."
That's Eric Smoot talking. After a lifetime of climbing metaphorical mountains, Eric is ready to take on a literal incarnation. To Eric, Kilimanjaro will be the ultimate physical and mental challenge. This is really saying something since Eric's thrown plenty of challenges in front of himself before. He was a four time state champion in track and field, accomplishments that culminatd into a scholarship to Purdue University. And Eric's day to day life as a personal trainer at his own studio means he hasn't exactly been sloughing off since college. No, he's in there driving other people to achieve -- more than 400 clients -- and growing the largest personal training studio on Chicago's North Shore in the process. (Here's what I consider to be a tactical error for a few of the other climbers -- they are Eric's clients. And if you've ever worked with a personal trainer you know there will be no dawdling or whining allowed among this group. Might have wanted to think about that in advance...)
You should sponsor Eric's quest up Kilimanjaro because he is going to drive himself and others right up the mountain to achieve their goals and because the dollars his climb raises will help kids to achieve their own goals. Donate here: http://www.globalallianceafrica.org/donation/index.php?hid_dns_type=5
Meet Hiker Amy Lindner
For a long time, in the back of Amy Lindner's mind, she's wanted to go to Africa. But you know how that goes. You get an idea. You toy with it occasionally. You put it away for a while, maybe even forget about it. And then *boom* one day the precisely perfect opportunity to act on it presents itself -- and you have no doubts. In Amy's case, the *boom* was lowered by fellow hiker Kim Moloney, whom Amy knows professionally in her life as a pharmaceutical salesperson. Once Amy learned about Kim's upcoming trip and the work the climb would support, she signed on immediately.Amy describes herself as "pretty active." Pretty active? Why don't you decide: blackbelt in Shidokan karate, a Japanese martial art; women's self defense and children's karate teacher; half Ironman finisher; two-time Chicago marathoner; and designated fetch leader for Ayla, her prized Vizla (that's Ayla in the photo). This quote from her bio is by far my favorite part: "I once stepped in the ring myself and fought in a bare-knuckle full contact karate tournament that took place in Denver, CO." Doesn't everyone?! So...just out of curiosity, Amy, what would you describe as very active?
Amy has been salesperson specializing in women's health for about 10 of the 20 years she's lived in Chicago. She recently got the nod to expand her role and become a field based trainer, mentoring colleagues through sales training. You should sponsor Amy on her hike up Kilimanjaro -- her enthusiasm has already inspired many of her friends and family to donate (you don't want to be the one left out -- people will talk) and the dollars she raises will touch the lives of children and families in deeply meaningful ways. Sponsor Amy here: http://www.globalallianceafrica.org/donation/index.php?hid_dns_type=5
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