What I neglected to mention in the last post was that I took that terrible bus because I was in a rush to get back to KEFRI. Leah, Pat and I were to do a tour of Mount Kenya, and I needed to make sure I was back from Mumias in time to go with them.
First things first. Leah and Pat both came over to KEFRI through the International Forestry Research Institute (IFRI). IFRI is a cooperative between universities all over the world, to gather data on global forests. There are IFRI sites in forests on every continent, where certain data are captured and tracked yearly (or according to funding) and uploaded into a massive database. IFRI has been in existence for some time and is the brain-child of Dr. Elinor Ostrom, a Nobel Prize winner and professor at IU. KEFRI collaborates with IFRI, and our assignment for the week was to head out to some of the project sites in Aberderes and around Mt. Kenya to 1) get more familiar with environmental issues in a unique part of the country and 2) to come up with some research ideas that we could work on for the rest of the summer. Since I was occupied with Mumias and the GFSI project, my job was mostly the former, leaving Pat and Leah to actually have to think.
The idea was to make a big circle around Mount Kenya, beginning west towards Naivasha and cutting through Aberderes National Park, then continuing around the north side of the mountain past Nanyuki, and then around through Meru to the northeast, before finally heading south and back to Nairobi.
We left after work on Wednesday the 22 and headed west and then north up into the Aberderes. We stopped that evening at a mountain town called Nyahururu (I dare you to pronounce it). The highland parts of Kenya, and especially this region, are well known for producing fine runners. I’m not sure if it made the news in the states, but a very famous Kenyan distance runner who won gold in the last Olympics recently jumped to his death from a condo window after his wife found him with another woman. The hotel where we stayed the first night was where he went for drinks before the night escalated. After a few drinks, we headed off to bed in anticipation of marathon day in the morning.
Mt Kenya is just east of the Aberdere mountain range, and it is the tallest peak in Kenya. It is the second highest in Africa behind Kilamanjaro. The landscape on the western side is quite lush, and green with farmland, though as you go north and east, weather patterns change and the land turns more arid. North of the mountain is actually where a large portion of wheat is grown in the country. The mountain’s feet are golden brown, and roll smoothly on and on over gentle rises, much like Kansas. Unfortunately, all of the fields were gained at the expense of the forests, and the lower reaches of the mountain suffered from pretty severe deforestation as a result of human encroachment. As a side note, much of the land around Mt Kenya is extremely cheap. It is far away from any industrial center, and the northern side is not particularly fertile. I think I was quoted 1000 for 5 acres or so? Maybe I am making that figure up but I’m not exaggerating when I say it was cheap.
Thursday we were up early, and headed north around the mountain. Though we were within viewing range, you can only see the summit early in the morning and late in the evening. Otherwise the clouds completely obscure it. We stopped at one site, which was a buzz-kill. I’m not sure what I was expecting but we just stopped the car and looked out the windows at a portion of forest by the side of the road – you could see clearly where the community had grazed their flocks and herds, and where they had not. For data gathering purposes, there are little plots scattered around major forests in key areas. Different measurements are taken, seedlings counted, and then the points are marked on GPS so the ‘plot’ can be found the next year.
On the way out to inspect some of the IFRI sites, we made a small detour to check out Thompson Falls. The river that generates the falls originates far up in the highlands of Mt. Kenya. It moves much less water these days due to deforestation. Regardless, it was still quite spectacular. After climbing down to the bottom, all I really wanted to do was jump in, but as anyone will tell you, swimming in fresh water here is risky. Among numerous other infections, people really worry about Schistomsomiasi (sp), a fluke transmitted by freshwater snails. I settled for pictures of the falls instead.
We stayed that night in Meru, which is supposed to be legendary for its beautiful women. Legend has it that when the railroad from Mombasa was being laid, it the work stalled out in Meru because the local women entranced all the workers. At any rate, we stayed at a great hotel, had some beers and then went for a meeting with our boss, who was staying nearby.
Friday morning, we got up and headed up the mountainside to another IFRI site on the mountain proper. After a bumpy drive past a British military outpost, we entered the park gate, and were at soon at a KWS ranger station. We were looking straight up the side of the mountain but the clouds were in and the peak was invisible. The land had changed from arid, dry farmland to groves of juniper and giant hardwoods. There are A LOT of elephants on Mt Kenya. We could see their manure in the road and where they had uprooted shrubs and plants and flung them about, and even the trails of crushed vegetation where they had been walking. We picked up a guide and headed up the slope to the IFRI site and soon passed stands of cedar that had been planted by KFS for reforestation purposes. The elephants had gotten into them and I was amazed at how much damage they can do. I had originally missed the elephant explanation for the destroyed timber – I thought there had been straight-line winds. An elephant will take a tree that you can barely wrap your arms around and either push it over or snap it in half. One swath of plantation literally looked like a tornado had gone through it
We kept on moving past trees the elephants had pushed into the road and made our way further back into the hills. We were in one of the small KEFRI cars – think of an old school Corolla – and with 5 people and a guide crammed into it, we were bottoming out on every raised piece of ground. We wound up in a field where we were to continue on foot. There was copious buffalo and elephant sign and you could smell that zoo scent of large herbivores. The road went straight across the field and into the trees on the other side, under which was a dense thicket. We didn’t have a gun and after a quiet discussion, we backed off and drove out. It was just too risky.
Our party headed back north to another site. The land turned much more arid as we went away from the mountain and entered a narrow finger of the national park, surrounded on two sides by villages.. The woods were dry and dusty, and people were herding cattle among the trees. Buffalo and elephant sign was abundant, especially elephant; there were many pushed over trees and piles of dung. We saw the site and took a walk through the woods. It was great to actually walk around in the forest, and the environment reminded me a bit of the dry forest you see on videos of India. There were very many varieties of medicinal trees, but the one that stays foremost in my mind was Prunus africanus. The locals use it for pretty much everything, but it contains a drug that is used globally for treating prostate cancer. Our guide, one of the other KEFRI interns, got turned around so I used my woodsman skills to find our way back out to the road. Good thing too. As we were walking up the trail, my nostrils were again assaulted by the odor of animals. We headed the opposite way, which was towards the road.
This part of the country is known for growing kat, or mira, a leaf plucked from a species of tree that when peeled and chewed acts as a stimulant. I’m not quite sure what it contains but people will tell you that it will keep you awake, and then help you satisfy your wife once you get home. The leaves are plucked early in the morning, packed and then rushed off to town to be shipped before they wilt. Driving around Meru, you see trucks filled with boxes of these leaves flying down the roads to shipping centers.
We headed over to Nanyuki to stay the night at a different hotel. It was clean, but unfortunately was party central. There was a bar upstairs that wound up pumping music till 3 a.m. I played some more pool then hit the sack.
We had finished seeing the sites we needed to see, so the driver and our fellow intern wanted to return to Nairobi for Saturday evening. Leah and I had discussed hiking Mount Kenya back in Bloomington and now was our chance.
As I mentioned earlier, Mt Kenya is the second highest peak in Africa after Kilimanjaro in Tanzania. Kilimanjaro is around 5900 meters while Mt Kenya is about 5200 meters high. Making the summit take four days, the first days hike takes you to the first basecamp. On the second day, you hike to the next basecamp and that night, you awaken at around 2 a.m. and hike the summit, arriving at sunrise. From the summit, you can see the Indian ocean, Kilimanjaro, Mt. Meru and Lake Victoria. Groups spend about 20 to 30 minutes at the top before hiking down to the first basecamp, and then out to the gate on day four.
We arrived at the Sirimon Gate outside of Meru at around 10 a.m. Our friends negotiated for a guide and after paying for entrance tickets, we hung around for a few minutes while we waited for the guide to show up. There were some really large baboons running around looking for treats. Unfortunately, we had to be at work bright and early on Monday morning, so we were only going to be able to hike to the first base camp, which is called Old Moses. Further, we weren’t particularly prepared for a strenuous hike – I even had my laptop with me in my largest backpack. My pack probably weighed 30 pounds. The park guards asked us what we were going to eat that night at the camp and we showed them the bags of peanuts and energy crackers I had picked up at the store that morning. They just laughed. However, while we were waiting to go, I took a look at the group of at least 50 British schoolchildren and parents who had done the summit the day before and were preparing to pack up and leave – there were quite a few beer bellies with knee length socks. It was at this point that I quit worrying about whether or not the hike would be too strenuous. Our guide joined us and we set off.
The trail to the first base camp is a dirt and gravel road and climbs very steadily from around 2500 meters to 3300 meters and Old Moses camp. The lower parts of the mountain are comprised of montane forest and bamboo. The trees are huge, consisting of cedar, olive, and camphor. The bamboo belt lies between the lower and upper montane forest strips and dominates all other vegetation. As we sweated our way up the trail we had to weave our way between the piles of elephant manure. You could see the trails coming out of the bamboo and the shrubs and branches they had thrown into the middle of road. Because of all the tourists, though, they are mainly nocturnal and if we were to see one, it would be in the early morning or late evening. Even knowing this, I was sure to be alert anytime we rounded a corner. There are very many elephants and very many buffalo in the forest. Luckily, we didn’t come upon either elephant or buffalo, though we spooked a troop of colobus monkeys and passed numerous buffalo wallows on the roadside. Mt. Kenya is rich in birdlife and I noticed a species of turaco gliding between the trees. These birds are bright blue, about the size of crows and they make a loud, bubbling call that is very distinctive. I had noticed them in my birdbook and had hoped to see them on the trip.
After a particularly steep section, the trees quit and we entered into the rolling, treeless, scrub environment. The wind was blowing in gusts, and setting the tan hills to waving. The sky was enormous, and as we emerged out onto the plateau, you could see for miles and miles till the rising slope disappeared up into clouds. We could see our destination, the Old Moses base camp perched atop a hill in the distance. I noticed many burned limbs and inquired with the guide. There had been a very large fire, set accidentally by beehunters several months prior, that had burned hundreds and hundreds of acres of the heather and scrub.
Five hours later, we completed the first stage of the hike and arrived at our home for the evening. This place really was a base camp. It was just a couple of buildings made of aluminum siding, a small store and a small kitchen. If you pay for it and provide food, your porters will cook dinner for you. We were the only people there so Leah and I started walking around for photo ops, of which there were no lacks. The country, even at the first base camp, is big. We had climbed to 3300 meters, which is almost 11,000 feet. I wish I knew more about the plants in this terrain – I know there is a species called Lobelia which is specialized for the environment – it looks like a big cactus, but made of fleshy leaves. At this altitude, the temperature fluctuates wildly – from summer during the day to below freezing at night. From what I understand, the fleshy outer leaves freeze during the night, but at the same time, act as insulation for the interior of the plant, and unfreeze during the day. There are also some specialized sunbirds found only in this environment. As far as mammals, leopards can be found off on some of the farther ridges, and buffalo will occasionally feed out above the tree line. The elephants stay below. Bushbuck are abundant, as are duiker. As we trekked around, we saw many large raptors. Some were certainly eagles and others were buzzards, like our red tailed hawks.
After slinging our pack down, we sat around catching our breaths on a bench inside – our guide served us chai while we sat, which was most welcome. The weather is unbelievably volatile. Within about 20 minutes we had saw sun, rain, and then pea sized hail.
As the afternoon progressed, the guide came to fetch us and we started a second, smaller hike, the destination being a meteorological station farther up the ridge. We hiked about another hour, to close to 3500 meters, winding up through the brush, sometimes more than head high, sometimes lower. It was absolutely silent except for our breathing, the scuffing of rocks, and the sounds of birds.
The sky was blue and clear all around, and the sun was starting to set. Above the tree line, the slope rose slowly and steadily for miles, all heather, low shrubs, and the strange lobelia. The landscape is disarmingly expansive. The wind had completely lain down. We were looking southwest across a wide valley, gold and shining in the sunlight, the top of which was covered in a descending ribbon of white mist. The mountain peak was farther south and swathed in cloud. As we emerged onto the top of the ridge near the weather station, we sat quietly for a few minutes and watched masses of cloud moving slowly down off the high ridges and into the valleys farther down the mountain. Before our eyes, the clouds rolled down from the high places and parted like a curtain, revealing one by one, the four peaks of Mount Kenya. It was unreal. When I say that it was silent, I mean it. We stood in the center of this epic landscape and held our breaths as we saw a piece of the world unfold in god-like movements. White curtains of clouds sank from the peaks, and visibly rolled away like a living thing to the foot of the hills away down below us. Everything was wrapped in shroud of silence. The mountain’s peak jutted up sharp and rough as broken bones from the horizon, and the sun was going down and lighting up the faces of the crags. The far away snow and ice glittered as it caught the light. After the arduous climb with all of our gear, I was absolutely euphoric.
Pat is all lit up.
Leah and I snapped A LOT of pictures that evening in the clear air. The sunset shown perfectly upon the mountain’s face and everything was lit gold. This may not be the best description, but it was the first thing I thought of when I laid eyes on Kenyaggi. Have you ever seen the old comic ‘The Death of Superman’? The villain is named Doomsday, and he looks like he is made of rocks. The craggy main peak of Mount Kenya looks exactly like his head and arms.
The light finally started to wane and the temperature began to plummet. We reluctantly left the high ridge and made our way back down into the clouds and mist to base camp. I’m not sure my feet were touching the ground. By the time we got back, other parties had made the hike from the ranger station in Meru. There were a group of Brits, a group of dental students from Norway, a few transplanted French and a pair of Israelis. Everyone huddled around the long, rough table, faces lit with head lamps, and swapped stories about the day. Pat and I snuck out a half finished bottle of Johnny Walker and had some celebration drinks while we chatted. All of the large groups had hired porters and carried food because they would be making the summit in a day and a half. Pretty soon, heaping plates of stew and salads started making their way into the dining area, which was disappointing for our trio. Our supper of energy crackers, granola and water seemed even paltrier by comparison. And it was COLD! At that altitude, it did not frost, but it was close. Long underwear and North Face jackets were the apparel of choice both inside and outside of the camp.
Knowing that the night was clear, I took my cup of dessert tea (courtesy of our guide) and walked out to take a look at the stars. Unreal. The air was crisp and cold, and so clear, and the Milky Way was strewn across the heavens. I stood outside until my hands started to hurt from the cold and I was forced to go back in. I saw one shooting star briefly streak across the sky to the west.
We all curled up in bunk beds shortly thereafter, and realized just how ill equipped we were to tackle the mountain. The sleeping bag that I brought to Africa packs into a ball that you can fit in two hands, and is only good to around 15° Celcius. Pat had something similar and Leah had to borrow blankets from the folks on staff. I slept in all of my clothes as did everyone else. A most uncomfortable night. Plus, I forgot to take my knife out of my pocket so I was continually awoken from an already fitful sleep by something digging into my hip.
The next day was less of a test. We awoke at around six, finished off the rest of the energy crackers, picked up the bags and set off back down the mountain. Everyone else was having breakfast and getting geared up for the second to last leg of the summit journey. I was very disappointed not to be able to do the same, but after the previous day and night, I knew that none of us had the proper gear to do the rest of the trip. Another time. We swung off down the trail and in no time at all, were back into the ancient juniper and hardwood forest. The elephants had been back at work the night before, and there was fresh vegetation thrown into the middle of the road, new slide marks down the steep banks, and fresh digging into the roadside. We also came upon fresh buffalo sign (which looks like nothing more than cow tracks and manure) in the middle of the road. A herd had been walking down the road during the early morning and we followed their tracks for quite a long ways. It was fresh enough that I was worried we might turn a corner of the road and find ourselves face to face with the herd! (a note to those who aren’t aware, Cape buffalo are one of the most dangerous animals in all of Africa – they can’t see very well, but their hearing and sense of smell are very keen) Instead of buffalo, we spooked the same troop of colobus monkeys that we had seen the day before, and then later, a bush buck, which ran across the road in front of us. A bush buck is a medium sized, spiral horned antelope which is commonly found in most natural forests in Kenya – they are a bit bigger than a large whitetail buck. I spotted this one at about the same time that it spotted us, and it gave us the same “Oh no!” look as a spooked whitetail before sprinting across the road and into the bamboo on the far side. Not long after, we came across a small flock of francolin, the Kenyan version of the grouse.
Three hours after leaving base camp, we arrived back at the ranger station, and hitched a ride with a KFS vehicle back into Meru. The rangers took us down to the shuttle stage and we caught the first one we could back to Nairobi. We were all of us exceptionally grimy and sweaty from the trek and the first and foremost thing on everyone’s mind was “Shower.” If you have read any of these posts, you may understand that access to running water has been something of an issue at KEFRI this summer due to construction. When we left for Mount Kenya, we had reported the problem and had been reassured that it would be resolved when we returned (this is a full week after my return from Kisumu, and two weeks since it had initially gone out). As we were riding, we all started joking that the water was definitely going to be out when we got back, all the while hoping that by joking about it, that it would be fixed. We dropped at Zambezi and walked the long, bombed-out road to the KEFRI gates. We rushed inside to the guesthouse, opened the door and went into the kitchen. I turned the knob on the sink. Nothing came out. AAAAARGHHH!!!!!
Not all was lost, though. After some heated text messages and a few calls, some workers showed up from somewhere and turned the water on for us for a few hours. Turns out, this could have been done the whole time, but no one we had talked to had actually let the construction crew know that the water was out! Live and learn!
