Every time I leave home for the mountains, I am always sure to return with incredible stories. The collective steps made along the trails, people we meet, beauty of nature, moments of despair and helplessness, and the unpredictable weather; these things rewrite my mind with new memories and experiences.
I had climbed Mount Kenya with Robert early September 2023, so when he asked whether I could join him and a few others on 10th August 2024, I was immediately hooked. The only doubt I had was the idea of doing it in just over a day. But I was ready to give it a try.
From then on we got paired up and started preparing. We posted long walks, gym workouts, bike riding, and other physical activities. Everyone was getting ready to at least reach Shipton Camp, and possibly summit Point Lenana.
About two days to the climb, Robert suggested that we take it easy on our bodies and let the mind wander. My brain took advantage of this period and activated its governor, giving me all kinds of reasons and excuses not to go.
“It’s July, the weather will be harsh, the terrain hostile, and ofcourse no views to enjoy.”
“You’re terribly unfit, so stop this dangerous living. Afterall, you won’t see Lenana Peak this time.”
However, there was another voice in my head telling me of the possibilities, the reward and the sense of achievement in the attempt. I also gained some courage knowing that fellow hikers from our previous climb were in it too – Winnie, Bryan and Walter. A friend (Peter) had agreed to join also.
The mountains call us all, but I believe that everyone experiences it differently. Because of this reason, I don’t intend to bore you with everything that my senses could grasp. Nevertheless, our journey was filled with great moments of joy, calmness, and sadness. For some of us the mountain literally took our breath away. It was foggy and cold, the trail muddy and part rocky, but we enjoyed the long trek.
Day 1: Long Walk from Old Moses to Shipton Camp
On the first day, we all (including our guide and porters) met in Nanyuki town. Some of us rented a few gears and equipment before leaving for Old Moses Camp via Sirimon gate. The real adventure began on the dot of 12:30 PM. We walked along a dirt road aiming for Shipton Camp which by then was a distant dream. On the way my friend Peter asked our guide (Wamururu) why the camp was called Old Moses Camp and he replied, “nitawaambia tu”, a phrase I would get used to until the next day.
A few kilometers from the camp we branched off to a muddy trail leading to Ontulili river. By now everyone was in sync with the mountain and the next walk to lunch point on the bank of Likii North river was easy. Due to some logistical issues, we didn’t have lunch at that point, so we continued uphill to the view point. After a short water break the trail led us down to the Mackinder’s Valley. We walked almost parallel to Nanyuki River enjoying wonderful views of the valley, listening to the flow of rush streams, and spotting beautiful alpine vegetation. The walls of the valley were steep on each side, and the rock formations showed signs of the glacial activity that had taken place many years ago.
As the night checked in, we arrived at a bridge where our porters caught up. Our guide advised us to take some rest before our last push for the day. Nothing had prepared anyone for this part of the trail. It was a treacherous and exhausting ascent. For the first time during the hike, my boots, head, stomach and heart started to sing. Wamururu mentioned that the hill was named after him. When asked why, he once again said, “nitawaambia tu”.
We arrived at Shipton camp at 8:20 PM. Here we met other groups of climbers who were either intending to attempt Lenana Peak (4985m asl) or “Ka Mawe” – the mountain name for Batian Peak (5199 m asl). Dinner was served late, giving us only three hours before the summit attack. Given the short time, some members of our group opted out and were content with reaching the Camp.
I had also mentally given up on the idea until Robert mentioned that Wanyoike would summit. That’s when I convinced my body and mind that we would try going as far as possible. I wasn’t going to put myself at risk. If I sensed any signs of altitude sickness or fatigue, I’d gladly turn back.
Day 2: Shipton Camp to Lenana Peak
I could hardly sleep through the cold night. Anxiety had also kicked in with my head playing out all the possible scenarios during the climb. Before the quitting mind won, it was 2:30 AM and half the camp was awake. From the camp kitchen I heard Wanyoike asking for a small bag from the porters. One of his boots had a small leak and required something to keep his feet dry.
In every hike there is always that “ONE” person who makes everything look easy. Wanyoike was that person in our group. While everyone else had every hiking gear – balaclavas, fleece jackets, fleece hats, proper hiking boots, gloves, rain gear, thick socks, and all – this gentleman was very casual about it. He wore jeans, a fedora hat, safety boots, a duffle coat, light gloves and carried a small daypack (no porters bag). This guy was also very fast and for a moment I was wondering why I agreed to go up with him.
We were on the trail on the dot of 3:00 AM. The first thirty minutes or so took us along an easy to follow and less challenging path. On one side there was a rushing mountain stream and ahead about two other groups of climbers. Their headlamps tried but could not break the solid darkness, and as if by panic some put them off. Further ahead there were about four climbers who had taken a detour toward the base of Batian and Nelion Peaks.
About two hours in, the trail became steep. We were now in the alpine desert zone which was quite hard on my feet. Up above the stars encouraged us, their twinkle seemed to advise us. “Take a little break, sip some water, breathe, and let us guide you.” We heed this advice and before long the day had started to break.
Now and then a flicker of light could be seen from headlamps facing towards Batian Peak and those from climbers further below. Stars began fading out and distant towns were visible too. We could now smell the morning air and the mountain features were visible albeit blurry.
At around 6:00 AM our guide said that we were on time and that we should rest before the last summit push. The horizon already had that beautiful glow with hues that suggested a glorious sunrise.
From there we walked along one of the most challenging parts of the entire trail. The summit looked very near – and it was, but it demanded everything we had left and more. Cold and thin air made me stumble often, and lifting my feet even over small rocks was hard. Every step was exaggerated, breathing intervals delayed and my daypack seemed to weigh several tones. The mountain is kind though. Because for all the troubles, it rewarded us with the most magnificent views.
At exactly 6:28 AM on August 11, 2024 we stood on the third highest peak on Mount Kenya, Lenana. The achievement was amazing, but the views took all the credit. Ahead of us the sun comes up in slow motion, painting the horizon orange-yellow. Below the cloud floor Lake Michaelson, Harris Tarn, Upper Simba Tarn, and other peaks were visible. Behind us against the sunrise the main peaks Batian and Nelion were visible. Their seemingly brutal, sharp and jagged faces triggered the dreamer in me and made my mind wander on what is possible – maybe I would attempt to reach their peaks someday. Further below us were the Lewis glacier, Austrian hut and Mackinder’s camp.
Lenana Peak to Shipton Camp
At 6:57 AM we started back toward Shipton Camp. By now nothing seemed of interest to body and mind. Loose rocks, volcanic ash, sunshine, and our guide seemed to encourage a fast descent. We ran down, our feet trying not to slide and fall, and our stomachs yearning for the ever delicious mountain breakfast. My eyes and ears were particularly focused on what I call the guardians of the mountain – small waterfalls, streams, giant groundsels and rock hyraxes near the camp. In less than 2 hours we were already at the camp.
Journey to Old Moses via Mackinders Valley
Having summited Mount Kenya, all my feet wanted to get home and be free of the boots. My knees ached for some rest, and my mind was slowly losing sense of my surroundings. It was time to head back to the familiar scenes of town life.
We left Shipton camp at around 10:00 AM. The long journey ahead was made possible by splendid views. We traversed the Mackinder’s valley past Wamururu ascent, Nanyuki river bridge and landscapes featuring lateral moraines. Along this valley you also encounter moorland grasses, Everlasting flowers, alpine heather, and birds like the Mackinder’s Eagle Owl.
Just after the viewpoint, moving clouds shielded the sun and there were signs of rain. Everyone went faster and in no time we were along the last ascent past Likii North river towards Ontulili river. We reached the Shipton sign post close to the Global Observation Station and stopped for a water break. It’s from here that our guide narrated the story of why the challenging ascent close to Shipton camp was named after him.
Although my mind was fully focused on reaching Old Moses, I got parts of the story.
“I Once Died on Mount Kenya”
Joshua, popularly known as Wamururu, had started his mountain career around 1987. Back then he was contracted as a porter by the late Wanjohi Waweru (Mkulima), a wealthy local businessman. Together with others, they were tasked to transport cement and timbers to Shipton Camp which was under construction.
One day Wamururu woke up late and started his journey in a hurry. As usual, he carried his load (4 pieces of timber and 50 Kg of cement). On reaching the ascent close to Shipton Camp, just after the bridge, altitude sickness kicked in. He dropped unconscious until another porter found him. He was rushed to camp for first aid and then down from the Mountain to a hospital in Nanyuki. Everyone at the camp thought he was dead, and a while later they erected a cross at the spot – naming it after him. About two years later, Wamururu went back to the mountain and found the cross at the spot named after him. On telling the story, everyone at the camp was surprised. They all had heard tales of how Wamururu died there.
We reached Old Moses camp at 3:03 PM just before the story was over. Here we rested for a bit and then had lunch. The hike was over, but the experiences would follow us past the camp. I hoped to return back and possibly meet Joshua again, for the unfinished stories. I still wanted to hear why he was named Wamururu (a type of Hyena).
A wonderful reading and a thrilling experience!