Up Margarita in Two V-Neck Jumpers

We arrived in Kilembe at the foot of the Rwenzori Mountains after a 7 hour drive from Kampala, with eight days of walking ahead of us, and I’d never felt so unprepared in my life.  As I watched the others stuffing their mountain gear into their rucksacks and filling their Camelbac’s with water, I thought about my preparation.  Shopping had taken place the week before at South Africa’s equivalent of Woolworths (the UK’s largest sweet shop) and as far as warm clothes were concerned, two V-neck jumpers and a ski-jacket would have to do the job of more specific mountain equipment!  Also when looking through my pack at the trail head I realised that I’d left behind my ski gloves borrowed from a friend, but with a quick search of the car I came up with a pair of slightly oil stained gardening gloves…little did I know these would turn out to be the perfect item for this climb.  Lacking mountain boots to strap my crampons to (not the kind of item to find in Kampala, especially in a size 12) I packed a size eleven rental pair into my pack and we started off headed to the UWA rangers post and start of the National Park.

Day 1; As we set off in the rain Kilembe dropped away quickly below and before long we were past Francis at the Rangers hut and into the UNESCO World Heritage Site forging our way through the tropical forest zone.  In the distance we could hear birds and Blue Monkeys while the guides stopped to show us Chameleons and other plants and insects.  The rain thankfully eased off by lunchtime and I was able to strip down to shorts and t-shirt for the remainder of the hot and humid day.  As we climbed higher the forest started to change with ferns becoming prevalent and the first signs of the bamboo zone that exists above 2,500m came into to view.  After a short steep section we made it to the first camp safely and bedded down for the night at 2,580m with 10km covered and a rise in altitude of 1,100m.

Day 2; Today started at the highly civilised hour of nine o’clock as we gorged ourselves on porridge and eggs prepared by the porters.  After breakfast we set off on the trail again with another long and steep climb ahead – 1,100m in 9km.  As soon as we had started we entered the bamboo zone that we had caught a glimpse of the day before.  The tropical woodland seemed to finish just as the impossibly tall grasses took over and the golden bamboo leaves littered the trail floor.  Shorts and t-shirts were still the order of the day as the temperature hadn’t changed as much as the scenery.  We were soon sweating as we clambered up the steep slopes to the first rest point 550m above our overnight camp at just over 3,000m.  At this altitude we had left the bamboo behind and this gave us our first view down to the plains below with Lake George shining in the distance and the savannah of Queen Elizabeth to the West just visible.  This also marked out the point of the change of footwear.  I’d been warmed about this section and advised to buy a good pair of Welly Boots, and sure enough as soon as lunch had been devoured we were up to our ankles in thick black mud.  This lasted all afternoon as we pushed through these small swampy depressions and clambered over sodden tree trunks surrounded all the time by towering Giant Lobelia trees.  This was also the point at which the waves of mist and fog started to pass through our group and helped drop the temperature forcing me to stop and don the first V-neck of the trip, to the amusement of the rest of the group.  Thankfully despite the mist the rain held off and we made it to Camp 2 (3,688m) under the inviting yet scary overhanging rock of Mutinda Peaks.  A fire was kindly built at one end of the overhang and this allowed us to warm up our cold feet and dry out any socks that hadn’t survived the water overtopping the boots as we waded through the swamps.

Day 3; A long nights sleep was grateful after the cold evening huddled around the fire sipping hot chocolate.  This is the first time I had felt properly cold (except the effects of Malaria) since I left the UK in February 2011.  After another full breakfast of porridge followed with more eggs we set off again.  This time it was certainly a day for the Wellies, for as soon as we left the camp we were up to our knees in mud trying to climb up to the next swampy plateau.   Hopping from tussock to tussock and rock to rock we made our over the ridge and started through the boggy swamp in our first taste of the Heather Zone of the Mountains of the Moon. 

It seems a life growing up in Derbyshire had set me up for this trip perfectly as this section distinctly reminded me of the top of Kinder Scout and its peat bogs.  While the days before certainly had similar memories of days running through the woods around home or after escaping from Prep School into the wilds of the Northern Peak District.  I could only hope that there was a warm pub with a log fire and pints of best bitter on tap…might have be dreaming there!  Obviously the altitude prevents the more active movements when slopping through the mud, but thankfully as we pushed close to 4,000m I hadn’t felt too many problems.  In general up to the 4k point my head felt okay, but there was certainly some slowness in my progress and shortness of breath that I had experienced briefly in the Simien Mountains at Christmas.  The days trek was the shortest on the trip and I had reached camp four within three hours of setting off.  Camp four I was warned was the point of no return.  It was explained to me that if you felt ill or sick in any way, not to try and attempt to push on as the terrain became much harder forcing a difficult ‘retreat’ back to the only rescue point by helicopter in the Park.  At 4,062m this was the highest point I could remember being, but the view of the heli-pad made some fairly dark thoughts come into my head.  As the Rwenzori’s are so isolated, it something goes wrong up in the high altitude points, you are at least two days from helicopter extraction.  After a warm and hearty soup and some hot supper though the thoughts had subsided and I curled up into my sleeping bag with a quick shot of Irish Whiskey to help me sleep and thoughts of summit day in my mind.

Day 4; A fairly rough night behind me listening to the rain on canvas and noises of people struggling with the cold and altitude, we set off as usual in Wellies.  The tweed cap had been replaced with a warmer woolly hat as we trudged through the fresh morning mud which had a dusting of snow on the surface.  The days climb started at the base of the climb to Weismann’s Peak, and wound around up past the interesting McConnell’s Prong; a lone tower of rock standing vertical and pointing to the sky like a Rhino’s horn.  We picked our way cautiously past more Lobelia and under rushing waterfalls; trying not to fill our boots with the ice cold water and after about an hour we had separated into the two groups that the altitude’s problems had produced in our team.  As I felt fewer issues I found myself in the front group with Dave in the second as he struggled with a headache and queasy feeling.  A little while later, we finally crested the final ridge and reached the highest point of the day and a new high point for my record book as we set foot at the top of Bamwanjara Pass (4,450m).  This gave us our first partially obscured view of the proper mountains ahead of us and what was to come.  Pausing briefly for a quick photo, we started on the steep descent into the warmer valley below that seemed to have been spared the snow overnight.  The next 500m drop through moss covered trees and thick mud was again taken with caution as it was fairly torturous, but the gardening gloves came into their own allowing me to swing from tree to tree like the chimps that could be heard occasionally, without the worry of thorns or splinters interrupting my progress.  Once the valley bottom had been reached we stopped briefly for a potato based lunch which was well received, before pressing on into the ever deepening mud, giving me a good idea what life in the Somme must have been like for those soldiers nearly a hundred years ago.  With the mud rushing up to the top of my boots if I missed a footing the mist in the valley cleared briefly prior to the start of our final climb to the night’s camp.  As we stopped the clouds parted like someone pulling open a set of curtains, allowing us our first view of the majestic Mt Stanley ahead which seemed to tower above us.  35 minutes later we reached Camp 5 at 3,960m and bathed in the late afternoon sunshine and taking in the views of Mt Baker and it’s glacier to the East and the backside of Mt Stanley that had teased us earlier in the afternoon straight ahead.

Day 5; The last day before the summit started a little later than usual for today was just a short section.  As we left the camp and made our way around the Kitandara Lakes we caught our first glimpse of other life on the mountains passing by the Rwenzori Mountaineering Services camp on the edge of the second lake.  The RMS is the original trekking company but of recent has fallen into some disrepair along with their camps.  They follow the original Central Circuit which joins the RTS circuit at the lakes and their camp fire could be seen smoking as we came into their clearing but they were nowhere to be seen.  After their camp we skirted the second lake and started up the final climb of the day to the crest of Scott Elliot Pass (4,372m).  This was the first time since day 2 that we were able to leave the mud and our Wellies as we finally made it into the Rocky Zone.  Reaching the Col of the Pass we caught our first sight of Mt Speke – named after John Hemming Speke, the first white man to spot Lake Victoria – to the East and the RTS camp at its base, though thankfully we weren’t descending there on this occasion.  A short scramble later brought us to the final camp and launch point for the summit; Margarita Camp (4,450m).  The summit camp sits at the base of the Elena Glacier which has long since retreated back up the mountain but was clearly visible some 200m above us.  After organising our equipment for the following morning’s assault and with a belly full of sardines and noodles, we climbed into our sleeping bags and tried to get as much rest as possible.

Day 6; Due to the high altitude I was expecting a fairly restless night, however aside from a few moments of breathlessness the night passed fairly uneventfully and I actually achieved a pretty good sleep.  However awaking at 3am my appetite certainly wouldn’t let me swallow much of the scrambled eggs on offer.  As we slept, the snow started to fall around us so that as we ventured out of our warm(ish) cabin there was an inch of fresh powder covering the rocky landscape.  It might sound exciting to see snow at the Equator, and very few Ugandan’s believe it exists, but I was already pretty fearful of what the next 12 hours would bring, so the thought of slippery cold rocks didn’t help.  After a warm cup of tea, we set off into the dark with head torches glinting off the wet rocks and illuminating the snow around us.  The first hour went quickly as we made slow careful progress up with the full moon trying to break through the clouds overhead.  Just as my fears were subsiding though we reached the first of a set of technical challenges; two steep fix rope climbs with a ten meter traverse between them.  Thankfully the ropes seemed new but the ice on them prevented easy movement as I climbed up into the dark with feet resting precariously on the stones around me and the gardening gloves took a soaking in the snow.  As the night passed by and as we climbed higher the glow of the Hima cement plant came into view on the plains 3,500m below us, and shortly after we reached the snowline of Stanley Plateau.  Stopping to attach my crampons onto my small rental shoes, the sun started to rise in the East.  In Africa the sun seems to spring up into the sky like a child jumping out of bed on Christmas morning, but at 5,000m it was with us in no time helping melt away my demons by giving me a good view of the remainder of the climb.  With head torches packed away and ice-axes strapped to our wrists, my first contact with fresh powder in four years started and what a place to break my drought.  Stanley Plateau isn’t the steepest section of the climb by any means, and in fact was a great introduction to glacier work especially as we followed in the footsteps of the RMS group who had been here the day before.  With the sun higher in the sky and the snow clouds descending again we passed the base of the Albertine Peak and made it safely across in little over 20 minutes and started the steep descent down to the base of the next glacier.  The drop down another fixed line took some time thanks to the frozen rope but eventually we were all assembled at the base of the 60⁰ Margerita Glacier and with ice-axes back out of packs, set off in the final climb to the summit.  This section certainly tested our fitness and numerous breaks were necessary to catch our breath as we inched up the ice with the edge of our crampons just clinging to the surface.  Just as my motivation and energy reserves were waning the guide shifted direction and the rocks that composed the summit appeared out of the mist off to the right of us.  Carefully yet thankfully we dropped our ice-axes into a snow drift at its base and started up the final pitch towards our goal.  After twenty minutes and fuelled purely from excitement I crested the final rise and found myself face to face with the summit sign and, had it been clear, a 360 degree view of Central Africa.  I was at Africa’s third highest peak and arguably one of the toughest. It had taken us just under 6 hours to reach this point from the base camp but now here we stood 5,109 hard fought, mud soaked meters above sea level.  As we rested awaiting the rest of the group the clouds parted overhead and we were treated briefly to a patch of blue sky prior to starting off on the long descent. 

A descent is typically faster but also more dangerous than the assent, and this was certainly true with ours.  As the sun started to beat down on the mountain the ice of the glacier seemed to change colour and the crevasses that had either been covered or obscured by the mist and snow were far more evident.  My feet were starting to hurt in the small rental boots by now which was made that much more painful with the short sharp downhill steps in the crampons. However the chocolate from my pack was helping with my energy levels and so it wasn’t long before we made it back to the end of the first snowfield and could remove our crampons for good.  The rain started up once again as we clambered down the slipper moss covered rocks to basecamp, but now clearly an expert at the ropes we were back in the warmth of the hut within 4 hours of leaving the summit.  Clearly not a climb for the record books but now I was back with a hot cup of tea and some food I couldn’t care less.  We’d summited in difficult conditions and survived without any issues.  Once the others reached us and we’d packed away our gear we set off once again targeting Hunwick’s Camp for our nights rest.  After another few kilometers, and as the sun was starting to set we finally had the chance to swallow some proper food 15 hours after we had set off in the morning.

Day 7&8; Rather than go into too much detail about the route back down the mountain let’s just say it all passed in a blur.  With each meter of altitude lost our speed seemed to increase and with every footstep our final destination got closer.  After painful reaching the top of the Bamwanjara Pass again my feet were struggling to hold back a run as we covered the ground quickly on the 7^th day, while throughout the 8^th Dave and I practical fell over each other to be the first to reach Kilembe.  The eighth and final day of the trek saw us cover the last 19km and descend 2,500m in just five and a half hours pulling up briefly at the UWA’s office to sign out and explain our surprise that we had met just a single other person in all that time within the park.  Leaving the rangers hut the heavens opened for a final time.  The King of the Mountains had welcomed us to the Mountains of the Moon with rain and it was in this same spirit that he was bidding us farewell.

Ollie climbed with the superb guidance of the people at Rwenzori Trekking Services and covered 86km in the 8 days trek, with a total change in altitude of little under 7,500m.