Friends Bridget Martin, Amy Mendenhall, and Andy Schiestl faced heavy snow and freezing wind, and watched other groups turn back, but they managed to conquer the summit of Kilimanjaro, and it turned out to be beautiful. Bridget weighs in with the following account, which proves that the right climbing partner can make all the difference:
“Summit night was a challenge mainly due to two things: the incredible cold temperature/wind and the fact the air is so thin. Each step was incredibly taxing on my breathing, especially when we had to do a couple quick moves in succession on the rock scrambles. And the fact that I was shivering for about 7 hours that night didn’t make matters any easier. When we got to the crater I was so excited I thought we were on the summit (I was ignoring the fact that there was another bit of ascending trail to my left, the mind can play tricks when there is little oxygen). Amy said, ‘Come on, lets go,’ and I said, ‘Where?’ I was pretty happy just being on the crater. But she reminded me I didn’t come all that way not to summit so up we went the last stretch to the summit. . . pole, pole. Reaching the summit was a dream of mine for about 10 years and I am so excited I made it. What a spectacular sight to behold and sense of accomplishment to be standing on the highest peak in Africa!”
Stephen and Cindy Koester just sent us this photo from their Kilimanjaro climb at the Furtwängler Glacier near Crater Camp just 1,000 feet from their summit of Kilimanjaro. They came up the Lemosho Route and through the Western Breach. A couple people had to descend due to altitude sickness, and although they had bad weather much of the trip, it looks as though near the summit, the weather started to improve for these determined partners.
Big kudos to David and Ingrid, whom we sent to Kilimanjaro in August, for coming back with such great images and stories. David recorded himself describing some of his best images from the trip; check out the audio slideshow above, and our YouTube channel for more.
The Seattle Times article says Puryear, who was 37, had been hooked on climbing since the early ’90s, and that he’s written several guidebooks as well. Details of the fall have yet to emerge, other than this passage from Puryear’s wife:
On Wednesday October 27, David and Joe started their route on LaBouche Kang. It was finally a clear and beautiful day. Joe was very excited about the climb as he and David set out. Early on in the climb they were ascending a knife edge ridge and Joe went ahead to scout the route. David said Joe was smiling and kept looking back giving the thumbs up. Joe went around a rock outcropping and disappeared from sight. David following came around the corner and what appeared to be a continuation of the ridge, had given way and revealed a cornice. Joe had apparently stepped out onto the snow, which gave way and he fell 700 feet to his death. David was able to repel down to Joe’s body. David reported that Joe died on impact and did not suffer. He was able to retrieve the SAT phone and call. David is devastated, but strong and in good health. He has returned to base camp and is awaiting help from Global Rescue.
The discrepancies in how far he fell have yet to be sorted out.
Puryear spent his life, up to his final moment, doing what he loved. Our thoughts are with his friends and family. Trust details, and a letter from Puryear’s wife, can be viewed here.
Anyone who read Elizabeth Gilbert‘s travel memoir “Eat, Pray, Love” (and let’s face it, a lot of people did) knows the hunger for not just visiting a place, but experiencing it. Those with the luxury of time can actually carve out months at a time actually living in their dream destinations, but for those with only a week or two at their disposal, getting off the beaten path and finding what is real about a place is practically an oxymoron.
Which is why we at Embark were so excited to come across the travel piece, When ‘Real’ Is the Traveling Priority, in The New York Times this week. Because this is exactly the kind of travel we believe in–the kind that lets you try a place on and wear it for a while, test its pulse. Simply put, we are not in it for the T-shirt.
This is why we take people to more than just the mountain when we climb Mt. Kilimanjaro, and even on Kilimanjaro, we prefer the route less traveled (Lemosho), so that your path up what will arguably the best climb of your life will not be littered with tourist traffic. We’ve also taken several side trips to visit with the Masai, as seen here. We don’t just stare at and photograph the locals; we interact, share food and stories and laughter.
The Tanzanian government requires all climbs to be guided and supported. If you’re looking for a local option, I doubt you’ll find anyone in Oregon who knows Kilimanjaro as well as Donovan Pacholl. He spent several years living at the base of the mountain and in 2003 helped establish the Kilimanjaro Porters Assistance Project. He now runs Embark Adventures (www.embarkadventures.com), which specializes in climbs up the beautiful Lemosho route.
Props also to Donley’s second local pick, Nicole Apelian’s Trackers International. She leads nature lovers on trips to Botswana’s Okavango Delta.
Over the years, Embark has cultivated great relationships with all sorts of local resources around Mt. Kilimanjaro, and the Ndarakwai Tented Lodge is no exception.
Instead of driving three hours from Moshi to start our journey up Kilimanjaro, Embark much prefers to enjoy a night or two at Ndarakwai, which is just 30 minutes from the gate to the Lemosho Route. Big on character, the lodge is surrounded by wild animals (they report having identified more than 65 large mammals and 350 species of birds) that provide the perfect pre-climb open-air jeep adventure.
The privately-owned ranch calls itself “an experiment in self-sustaining conservation,” and works to preserve a variety of habitats that are home to the Amboseli / Ngasurai Basin eco-system, including helping preserve seasonal elephant routes. Starting the climb up Kilimanjaro from the Ndarakwai Tented Lodge provides us with a stunning contrast in scenery from day one to the summit.
