Climbing Mount Kenya was a highlight in my life. For years I remembered the beauty -- and the effort required to get there.

Once or twice a year I would see the mountain on our way to Nairobi. I always looked at it, wondering if I would ever get a chance to climb it. The opportunity came almost by chance. A group of non-climbers decided to give it a try. They asked offhandedly if I wanted to join. It was not a hard decision!

None of us were in shape to climb a mountain, and none of us had reasonable equipment. I had a pack more suited to carrying books, and no boots, only sneakers. We drove up to Met Station, at 3000 Metres. There we spent a relatively comfortable night on mattresses in cabins.

The work began the next morning. After an hour's climb through forest, we reached the tree line. Above that was moorland, and what was known as "The Vertical Bog". I can't think of a better description of it. It took us seven or eight hours to get to MacKinder's Camp, the stop for the first night. It should normally take less than six. We had exhausted ourselves, and I, at least, slept well. The temperature was below freezing, and we were in small, semi-permanent tents. Not everyone did so well. Only four of us were willing to continue climbing the next morning. We left with a guide for Point Lenana, the third highest peak, early in the morning.

Scree is something we learned about quickly. It is loose volcanic rock that had been under a glacier at one time. It was very steep. The story usually is that you take one step up and slide down two! The view from the scree was almost enough to make it worth the effort. We could see a beautiful emerald coloured tarn below us, and a kilometre away, across the valley which we were climbing the side of, we could see another tarn almost level with us. Above us rose the main peaks, Nelion and Batian, some 900 Metres above us, and a bit over a kilometre away. The size of the mountain is overwhelming from that perspective, a single person hardly appears significant in that scale.

We climbed a little and rested a lot. We finally came to the top of the scree, went around a rock outcrop, and came across a building big enough to sleep thirty people. The rough rock that it was on almost looked like a moonscape. Austrian hut looked totally out of place, but was a welcome spot to rest.

The last stretch was the steep climb up the Lewis glacier to Point Lenana. The thin air at almost 5000 metres was hard to breath, and the steep slope was hard climbing. I remember being able to take ten steps between rests. We made it. Somehow the extra effort made it all the more exhilarating to reach the top. If our guide thought we were crazy I couldn't blame him. We went all the way back down the mountain that day, in order to try to catch the others. It is supposed to be easier to go downhill, but I'm not sure that was true there. It had rained and water was flowing all through the bog. I was exhausted, but there was no choice but to keep walking. I think there was more exhilaration in reaching the car than reaching the peak!

Every year at RVA the 11th and 12th grades split up into small groups and went to various places in Kenya on 'Interim". In my 12th grade I ended up climbing Mount Kenya again. Three separate groups were going. We were supposed to take the week to walk around the central group of peaks before climbing point Lenana. Another group of all girls were to climb the standard route, with an extra day at MacKinder's camp. The third group of four guys was going to rock climb up to the second highest peak, Nelion.

I actually tried to get in shape the second time. During the vacation preceding the climb I tried jogging for the first (and only) time in my life. I tried to do lots of walking as well, my only other alternative to the hated jogging. I didn't think I was too successful, but on the mountain I was as fit as anyone in our group.

On any trip, the people you are with are as important as the place. This trip was no exception. I usually hung around two dorm rooms at school, all seven of the other guys in the three groups were from those two rooms. Also, Julia, the only girl I knew well, was in my group. Our leader, a teacher at RVA left lasting bad impressions. He was arrogant and above us all, telling us in no uncertain tones that he knew everything and was in command. We ignored him as much as we could.

We got to Met Station early in the afternoon, so had lots of time to fool around. One bunch decided to go 'Buffalo hunting' in the bamboo forest below the camp. I was a bit worried lest they run into a buffalo! I guess with the amount of noise they were making, there was very little to worry about. What did worry me was when someone dared the leader of the rock climbers to climb a certain tree and see how far he could get out on a rotten limb before it broke. He took up the challenge. He was four metres up the tree, going hand over hand along the limb, when with a crack! it broke. It sagged severely, so he calmly continued on down it to the ground.

The three groups travelled together for the first day to MacKinder's camp. We made good time and didn't have the long rests that we needed the first time. The bog was dry which made a big difference. This time I had prepared, and had a reasonable frame pack for the trip.

Going around the peaks offered astounding, majestic views of the peaks and glaciers. We passed a number of blue-green tarns and climbed a number of scree slopes on our second day. We were in sunshine, but below us was a blanket of cloud.

Sixteen of us spent the night in a small tin hut made to sleep eight in a pinch. Julia and I had been made responsible for breakfast. In order to prevent a trip to the tarn in the bitter cold at four the next morning, we brought a pot of water inside. Sometime in the night we heard some splashing. A small rat had fallen into the water and drowned. I got more water at four in the morning.

We continued around the next day, through more rugged terrain, and came out very near Austrian hut, just below Point Lenana. We met the other group there. We tried to see the rock climbers as we knew approximately where they should be. We looked and looked but saw nothing. When we met up with them the next day, they said they could see, and even hear us talking, but in spite of their bright jackets, we couldn't pick them out.

The trip up Point Lenana was nothing like the first time. We almost ran up. Four of us were ahead of the rest. We were two thirds of the way up when the guide left the other group about one third of the way up, and beat us to the top. He climbed the mountain once a week or so.

It was hard to say good bye to the mountain the next day. We dragged our way down the mountain, not due to exhaustion, but because we didn't want to leave. We had had nothing to entertain us, but were not bored for one minute. It is hard to be bored when you are surrounded by beauty.

I wrote a couple poems after I had come down which express my feelings fairly well.

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