Going for the mysteries on mountain tops

Compared to Everest, Mount Longonot is just a bump. Way up in the northern hemisphere, it rises to 8,000 metres above sea level. Longonot is only 2,700 metres above sea level and practically on the equator with a mean temperature of 26 to 30 degrees Celsius.

Since the first recorded Everest expedition 210 lives have been lost due to exhaustion, lack of oxygen or extreme cold. There are no recorded deaths of Longonot climbers. But both mountains have secrets.

To us humans mountains symbolise the mysteries and challenges of nature. Among the people of Central Province, Mount Kenya is the seat of God or Ngai, whose secrets it guards. Elders often hike deep into the forests around the mountain to make sacrifices to Ngai, to beseech or appease him.

The Maasai believe that Enkai lives on the highest peak of Mount Kilimanjaro and Mount Kenya from where he distributes wealth, rain and fine weather. They call Mount Kenya ol-Donyo Eibor – the White Mountain, or ol-Donyo Egere – the Speckled Mountain.

When a charismatic Bukusu moralist began a religious crusade in the late 1940s, he went to a mountain and prayed. Followers of Elijah Masinde, who founded Dini Ya Msambwa, make pilgrimages deep in the caves of Mount Elgon.

A few years ago several friends and I went hiking in the Ngong Hills. Our aim was to keep fit. There was no mystery to unravel and no secrets to be revealed there.

Yet somehow I felt fear, or perhaps it was reverence, because, like all mountains, Ngong though just a set of seven hills, has its story. Like man, it was created. It exists just like man does but unlike us mortals, it cannot share what it knows and hides. We can only attempt to discover.

Those who have not hiked in those hills cannot know what is at the top or hidden in the valleys. Attempting the hike is akin to attempting to overcome fear of the unknown, something we all have to face at some point.

Approaching the Ngong Hills in a clockwise direction is better than the more popular anti-clockwise approach. We started at Corner Baridi, making a gradual ascent to the top of the first hill, then descended to the base to embark on the ascent of the second.

These ascents and descents were repeated six times over an average time of five hours. The final descent took us to Ngong Town. A clockwise approach would begin at Ngong Town and finish at Corner Baridi.

One of the secrets of the Ngong Hills could perhaps be told by some of the best athletes in the country. Robert Cheruiyot, fondly known by his fans as “Mwafrika,” is one of them. Every morning Robert and his team run up the hills as part of their training regime.

The secrets they learn from the hills may not be discernible to ordinary hikers, but their joy is certainly visible when we watch the awards ceremony after a major international marathon.

Perhaps the only secret that leaks out is that the mountains make us build up stamina to endure a punishing race, because hiking can indeed be punishing. And so one discovers that enduring life’s challenges can be punishing, yet joyous once they are met.

Three weeks ago I conquered Mount Longonot, and last week I successfully climbed Mount Kenya. The secrets of Longonot, or Oloonong’ot in Maa, are strewn across its two humps and rim. Some, which I may never discover, are hidden deep in its crater, many feet beneath the rim.

The path to the peak of Longonot is narrow and the drop off sharp. A slip down would leave you with broken limbs — or worse. According to the Kenya Wildlife Service, Longonot means a place of steep ridges and many spurs.

Ascending the two humps is a long journey, slow, tiring and punishing. The second hump is the lowest point on the rim. That is where the journey begins. To get to the highest peak you walk in a counterclockwise arc, make another sharp ascent over bad terrain on a narrow path. At one point I crawled. At another I sat and stared in despair. At the peak 2,790 metres above the sea level I discovered the first secret of Longonot: patience.

Narrow paths

In life, there are narrow paths and difficult assignments, which, like Longonot’s sharp cliffs, seem insurmountable. Climb the mountain of life with patience. When you get to the peak, look down the distance you have travelled. Then assess your level of patience and what it can help you achieve.

Climbing mountains is most enjoyed when you are in a group. The target is to reach the top as a group. The hike is not complete until the entire group descends. There were 17 people in my group, mostly colleagues from work, with guides from Tanari Trust, a non-profit organisation “that seeks to stimulate encounters with God, the environment, self and with others”.

We set out as a team, and our goal was to finish as a team. Ascending the first hump looked easy, but it was not. KWS, which manages Longonot Park, knew this so they have put up some seats appropriately beneath the cool and comforting shade of a lone acacia tree. We rested there and waited for the rest of the team.

There are some in a team who are fast and some who are slow. But a team you are, so you do not leave anyone too far behind. The effect of leaving one team member too far behind is that they will get discouraged, walk back and pull out.

At some stage I held the hand of a colleague when I felt dizzy after looking down a cliff. I thought I would faint and fall down the cliff. I dreaded the effect.

At another stage, a colleague got a pulled muscle only a few metres to the peak. We massaged her. She continued. In that I learnt the second secret of the mountains. Up there are friends. You hold on to them when you are about to fall. They encourage you to live on and to love all.

Compared to the second hump, ascending the first was child’s play. The second is steeper and the path closer to gorges. There is less vegetation to hold on to; at one point I crawled and walked on my knees. But the summit is marvelous. Right in front of your eyes is the deep crater which I was told has no wild animals, but it is pretty green with vegetation.

Seen from the top, the crater looks like a huge stadium. It is here that the climbing begins. It had taken our group three hours to get to this starting point. I dreaded the idea that I would have to do another four hours; that is how long it takes to walk round the rim and descend.

I was adamant that I would not make it, but the rest of the team was equally adamant that I would. I made it and learnt another secret of the mountain: talk, appreciate being heard but most important, listen to the counsel of others. That way, you will not underestimate your own potential nor that of your friends.

The most important secret of the mountain is, of course, hidden at the peak. At the top of Longonot you get the feeling that you are viewing the whole of God’s good world. The buildings in Naivasha town glitter like a cluster of stars in a clear sky.

The lake and the rangeland around it, the Suswa plains and the Aberdare range on the horizon all remind you of the mysteries of nature. If you are a Christian, it might remind you of the conversation Jesus had with the devil as written in Matthew 4:8: “Then the devil took Jesus to a very high Mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of the world in all their greatness. All this I will give you if you kneel down and worship me”.

The lesson was that all the wealth you have belongs to God. It’s a secret best discernible high up the mountains.

The final secret of the mountain is hidden at the base where you began the hike. When you have safely descended, ordered some nyama choma, and downed a pint of cold beer, you get to taste the satisfaction of a successful hike.

It is not a satisfaction you can share, nor is it easy to explain. A few friends have asked me what it was like to climb Mount Longonot.

At that point, I imagine myself having a chat with Sir Richard Branson and asking him what it takes to achieve his level of success as an entrepreneur. “The answer,” I imagine he would say, “is hidden high up in the mountains.”

Evacuated by night

In climbing Mount Kenya, we set off as a team of 27. One dropped off at Shipton’s Caves, about 1000 metres from the summit. Another was evacuated by night to a camp known as Mackinder’s, about 800 metres down from Point Lenana. He was eventually airlifted and taken to a hospital in Nanyuki where he spent two days getting oxygen.

He had developed pulmonary edema, a condition that results from fluid build-up in the lungs making breathing extremely difficult.

It takes three days to climb; the higher you go, the less the oxygen, which makes it difficult to breathe and therefore more tedious. Conversely, it took us just a day to return to the base, exhausted and not having had a shower for four straight days. Descending is also easier because oxygen increases on the way down and that makes it easier to breath.

In his incredible 1953 book, No Picnic On Mount Kenya, Felice Benuzzi gives an account of a difficult and dangerous adventure. Benuzzi and his two colleagues were Italian Prisoners of War confined at Nanyuki.

They escaped from the prison with the sole aim of climbing Mount Kenya. They were successful. But upon return, they were sentenced to 28 days of solitary confinement. Climbing the mountain then was more difficult than it can be now, but the challenge no less.

The glaciers have melted down considerably, and the paths, having been trodden by hundreds of thousands of adventurers over the years are now more gentle and easier to trace.

In the late 1800s, Hugarian explorer Count Samuel Teleki reached Point Lenana, which at 4,500 metres above sea level is the third highest peak on Mount Kenya. With him, I can now share the joy of reaching the peak; a feat that only those who have climbed can truly appreciate.

We climbed Mount Kenya to help raise funds to boost the Save A Life Fund, a project of the Nation Media Group, East African Breweries and Standard Chartered Bank to help feed those facing starvation.

We overcame the punishing ascent and an equally excruciating descent, all along empathising with the millions of Kenyans facing starvation. More than Sh7 million has been collected for the fund to date.

I doubt that I would be willing to climb Mount Kenya again soon. But if such an exercise would contribute to the elimination of hunger, I will be climbing.

The writer is a News Editor at NTV.