At Shipton's Camp (4200m) I could tell that the altitude was beginning to affect many of my fellow climbers; some had headaches, some felt nauseous, others couldn't breathe properly and some even had to give up their attempt to reach the summit and hike back down the mountain. On the night of the 2nd day I was anxiously waiting to see if I would soon feel these symptoms as well, but despite an obviously quicker breathing rate I felt exactly the same as if I were on the beach (excluding the 0 degree temperature) - for this altitude tolerance I think I have the Masai Mara to thank. Working for 2 1/2 months at a surprising altitude of almost 2000m would have, no doubt, helped me greatly with my quick acclimatisation on the mountain. Nevertheless my camera was still stolen so I went to bed that night in a sour mood which was exacerbated again by the cretinous 13 year-old school children who were again discussing topics of great importance in the dormitories next to mine.
7:00 a.m. the next day and still no news about the camera, but with the absence of clouds I was afforded my very first clear view of the summit that stood 1000m above us. The drastic contrast of scenery between the grassy moorlands and what lay before me was incredible. Vertical rock faces stretched up at 400m a time made the summit look almost impossible to scale. At various points huge jagged conical shaped points stuck out either proudly by themselves or with other groups making it look as if the summit was not of this earth but rather the remnants of a meteorite that had placed itself on top of a giant hill. With the weather being so glorious I immediately felt my mood lift to one of excitement and anticipation at the opportunity to explore the areas around the summit (our climb to Pt. Lenana would start on the next day). After a hearty breakfast Nicholas and I set off on a different route that other hikers were using; the path less traveled. With the gradient increasing at every step we took and the ground changing from solid rock to shingle it became increasingly difficult to reach our intended viewing point at 4700m high. But with the anticipation of seeing some spectacular views spurring me on we reached the point only to be greeted with the arrival of an anti-social cloud that wouldn't leave for at least an hour (I know this because we waited up there for that time so that the cloud could clear). Nicholas soon suggested that we move again since the wait was proving useless and despite the number of layers we had on our muscles were starting to stiffen due to the cold. So we walked down over the other side to where there were supposed to be a couple of lakes. Sods law dictates that when we were half way down the insufferable cloud that had ruined our views had now lifted and we had our first glimpse of the beauty of the mountain. The lakes were nestled among huge rock cliffs and perfectly reflected everything that surrounded them. In the presence of this magnificent sight I completely forgot about the stolen camera which often came to plague my mind. The weather stayed like this for 6 hours and we took the full advantage of it by hiking 180 degrees around the summit to view some more spectacular landscapes. Foolishly, however, neither of us had brought a bottle of water with us and for 8 hours we had been at an average altitude of 4500m and scrambling up gradients of at least 60 degrees. The final part of our walk back to Shipton's camp nearly killed me and I passed out in my bed at 4:00 p.m. (waking up briefly to have supper).
At 3:15 a.m. the next morning we began our ascent up to Pt. Lenana, the 3rd highest peak at almost 5000m. The intention of the early wake-up call was to reach the summit in time to view the sun slowly raising from the east. The night was beautifully clear with not a single cloud present for the 3 hours that it took to climb/scramble. Furthermore the full moon bathed the mountain peaks with its silver light making some of the most eerie and beautiful silhouettes I had ever seen; it was the perfect build-up to reaching Pt. Lenana. However the weather had different plans because as soon as we reached the summit and the first rays of the morning sun had pierced the night sky I looked over my shoulder after screaming with elation at reaching the flag to see the largest cloud I'd seen fast approaching us. With a gasp of despair from me, the cloud engulfed us blocking everything that lay more than 10m away from view. Waiting for 30 minutes in hope for the cloud to disperse we eventually decided that we should start descending; my hands were turning purple under the thick gloves I had on and my feet had swollen with the cold under my shoes. 20 minutes after we started our descent Sod's law again dictated that the cloud should disperse in time for the army of school children who were now making their way up to the same point (I did take some pleasure in seeing the exhaustion in their faces and appreciating the silence that this climb was forcing on them). Nevertheless I looked up at Pt. Lenana, now clear against the blue sky, with a sense of pride at climbing the summit barely 4 months after I had painfully began to learn to walk again after an ankle injury I sustained in late November last year. We were now well on our way on the longest day of our hike: a 2000m descent walking more than 30km. The weather remained clear throughout the day so I could fully appreciate the scenery that was now surrounding me as I hiked down the Chogoria route. The landscape was the polar opposite of the Sirimon route up; instead of heaths and moorlands there were gorges and canyons with great lakes that were once glaciers of by-gone times. Half way down my ankles began to painfully feel as if they were being eroded and I was anxiously waiting to hear news on the fate of the stolen camera. As soon as there was enough signal on his phone, Nicholas made a couple of phone calls in the hope of finding some news. I sat down on a nearby rock praying for good news. No news had come. Instead my prayers were answered by a faint hissing sound coming from my shoes. Looking down I saw a bright green snake with black-colored patterns slithering on my shoe. Fortunately I'm not very afraid of snakes so I casually asked my guide the identity of this snake. With one glance Nicholas nearly jumped out of his skin with fright, not because he was afraid of snakes, but because his client, who not only had his camera stolen, had also found himself at the mercy of a Mt. Kenya Viper the venom of which can be life-threatening. With this knowledge I held my breath with fear as I waited for this snake to casual make its way over my foot. Once gone Nicholas and I quickly sped away. After 13 hours of trekking we finally arrived at our destination: The Austrian lodge at Chogoria gate (2900m). Feeling ever more exhausted I passed out yet again for 15 hours.
For our final day all that lay ahead of us was a 3 hour hike to where we were to be picked up and taken to Chogoria town. I woke up to the excited sound of Nicholas telling me that he had received an anonymous phone-call saying that my camera can be picked up at a shop in Nanyuki. We had both given up all hope of ever finding the camera again and so with this news we eagerly began our hike through the bamboo forests on the East side of the mountain. Once we had been picked up it was a journey of about 3 hours to get back to Nanyuki. Anticipation was building up inside of me as we arrived in Nanyuki and approached the shop where my camera was supposedly held. The shop-keeper brought forth a black plastic and removed its contents. For the briefest of moments my heart sank as I saw a well cleaned camera placed on the desk. I thought this couldn't be the one - its too clean. But on closer inspection it turned out that it definitely was and that who ever stole it must have cleaned it up before returning it (as if in an apology). I couldn't have asked for a happier ending to this experience!
Xav
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