Batian summit attempt

Prelude

Greetings. 

For years I've dreamt about climbing Batian peak on Mt. Kenya, even before I moved here a year and a half ago. Last April, I fortuitously bumped into a guide/rescue guy by the name of Simon Maina while hiking back from Pt. Lenana last April. It was a fateful meeting that set me on my path to greatness, a path fraught with challenges. Challenges that were mental, physical, and even existential. Read on...

Over the summer while visiting London and France Ramata, I picked up some basic personal climbing gear so I could start training when I got back to Kenya. Starting in September, I climbed with Simon and other guides over the course of 4 months to learn the skills. I also started getting very physically fit through a combination of ice hockey, running and gym. There were significant personal and professional struggles on the side. Over the summer I still suffered from chronic fatigue, a lingering effect of getting Covid back in May. I wasn't doing great mentally, either. Over the summer, I would have described myself as mentally unstable and unsettled. Shortly after I returned from my trip with Ramata to the Alps, I started to suffer from serious depression for a couple of months, and we grew distant, talking less and less. Come November, I got some help and underwent a significant mental comeback. I got myself into ridiculous shape very quickly. Work started going well again and my social life was going great. I had an epic holiday planned for us during Christmas break. But the moment she got to my place, I sensed something was off. She had a coldness toward me. I put it down as just being tired from the long flight and delay at the airport, plus it was late at night. But over the next couple of weeks that coldness continued and eventually I confronted her about it. She told me she wanted to end it. I was completely devastated. After 6.5 years, I'd lost the woman of my dreams, the woman I wanted to have kids with and grow old with. There was so much I needed to figure out. Mainly, how did I let this happen? What are my personality traits and habits that led this to happen? My trip to Mt. Kenya with a friend at New Year's permitted me the chance to look inward and contemplate the many questions I had to ask of myself. All the while, I was trying to focus on attempting Batian for the first time, which had been my goal for the past several months. Part of me wanted to cancel the trip, but my friend peer-pressured me into following through with it. 

I organized a traverse, entering through Chogoria gate and exiting through Naro Moru gate, which is where our team was based. It was a bit complicated and more expensive cause of the need to bring tents and transport the crew all the way to the other side, but the epic scenery of the Chogoria route made up for it. We had 5 days to do it in. But on the first evening, it rained for about 24 hours straight at lake Ellis, setting us back a day for the approach. The whole second day was spent waiting out the rain. On day 3, we hiked to Minto's camp. It was very cold and serenely beautiful up there. At night, the stars and moon iluminated every mountain for 360 degrees while shooting stars traced white lines across the cosmos. You could have easily walked without a light. On day 4, we walked up to Austrian Hut and reached Point Lenana in the afternoon. Simon tried to keep my expectations in check. Sure enough, there was too much snow on the face of Nelion, and it would take at least 2-3 days for it to melt. On top of that, when it melts up there and re-freezes, it turns into basically ice. We passed two clients who were descending with their guides, having written-off the climb. I had really amped up this climb in my mind. I'd spent alot of money going on training climbs, and a hell of alot of effort training for this. 

My overwhelming remorse about the breakup that I had suppressed up to now, about moving out here, re-starting the long distance relationship, then being dumped somewhat out of the blue, came flooding back. I felt like the death of my relationship with the love of my life was something that, despite my promises to leave Kenya at the end of my 2-year contract, I had no control over. It just happened unexpectedly and there was nothing I could say or do to save it, even though there was nothing I cared about remotely as much as us. No matter how much I cared, it didn't matter. My destiny was being determined by factors completely outside of my control. This climb was supposed to challenge that. I was to prove fatalism wrong. Accepting that I had to abandon the summit attempt, a sense of crippling helplessness flooded into my entire being. It was not really about the summit; it was about her. I sat there with my head leaned against the end of my hiking pole, and bitterly wept. The summit attempt was doomed from the start. I know fatalism is a stupid philosophy, but it felt very real in that moment. I composed myself and we hiked up to Lenana, which was actually pretty exciting for Ivy who had never been. I tried to cheer myself up so as not to spoil her moment. We enjoyed ourselves up there (which is still a significant hike and view I might add). 

After some negotiation, I managed to get Simon to refund me the exorbitant 50,000 Kenyan shilling technical climbing fee (400 US dollars). Simon is a top quality alpine guide who I would gladly trust my life with, but in my opinion he's kinda too fixated on money. I told him I'd be back during the February break and to not worry about getting back his fee. I went back to work and took this as an opportunity to increase my level of physical fitness over the next 5 weeks. 

The peak of my training was a hardcore weekend where I played hockey on Saturday morning, then drove to Mt. Longonot by myself, ran the crater just before dark in 105 minutes, camped at Hell's Gate, then climbed the big wall on Sunday morning (150m of trad). It was awesome and I was feeling confident. 

Training with Nelson at Hell's Gate (Fischer's Tower visible in the background)

Some more runs in Karura forest, hockey practices and gym sessions and my cardio and strength were up to task for the climb ahead. Work got in the way but I forced myself to find time. On Sunday, February 12th, I grabbed some groceries and drove up to Naro Moru to pick up my guide, the trusty Gerald Mwangi. I chose to hire only 1 man, to save money. He had a kerosene stove and helped me with the cooking and dishwashing, so I paid him a bit extra (4000/day instead of the usual 3000). We spent the night at Met Station cabins. 

A very cheeky resident Syke's Monkey at Met Station

Day 1 - Met Station to MacKinder's Hut

Preparing ugali and bean stew

Best pancakes ever made

After an epic breakfast of banana and rasberry pancakes, we did the 11km hike up to MacKinder's, going from 3,048m to 4,300m in altitude. The hike was gruelling because I was carrying nearly all of the food in a second backpack on my chest. Gerald's pack wasn't exactly light either, him carrying the stove and kerosene fuel. On the trail, we passed 3 locals (one more experienced mountaineer and another man with his 15 year-old son). I'd met them the weekend before along with Stephen Maina, another guide I'd trained with a few times at Hell's Gate. They had made it to Nelion the day before, at about 13:45. But they turned back due to the late hour and the high winds up there, so they didn't reach Batian. I hoped that my 1:1 guide:client ratio would pay off in terms of pace, and that the wind would die down for us. It took us 6.5 hours to reach the hut. My back and shoulder muscles were screaming from the physical strain of the backpacks. We had a nice coconut vegetable stew and passed out. 

Day 2 - MacKinder's Hut to Austrian Hut

The next morning, I woke up with a splitting headache, a more rapid than normal heart rate, and some kind of cold producing yellow mucous. This did not bode well. To do myself a favour, I offered one of the porters of another party 1500 bob to carry our food bag up to Austrian Hut ('plus tip' he insisted). It was the best 2000 bob I've ever spent. Along the way, we passed 3 seasoned German mountaineers who were also on their way back from Nelion. I think they reached it just before 15:00. I picked their brain for some tips. They told me that they'd just spend 3 weeks acclimatizing in the high Alps and had climbed the Materhorn while there. They emphasized the importance of acclimatization to boost the red blood cell count. I told them "well, I don't really have that luxury of time so I'll have to rely on my physical fitness and stamina to get me through. Do you think I get reach Nelion by 11am?" I asked. "Hahaha...no way! Maybe if you are Alex Honnold's brother!" was the response of one of them. I was determined to prove these cocky Germans wrong...

We got there and I had a nice long lie down (didn't think I was gonna get back up till the next morning). After a while, I felt better and decided to recreate the epic fruit pancakes to share with a group of American college students. I told them when I saw their bag of dried oats and other less exciting food, I felt pity. They gladly accepted my pity, and we shared another batch of epic pancakes complete with butter and Canadian maple syrup! They said it was the best food they'd tasted in days, which I took as a very nice compliment. They went on their way and were replaced by a Dutch couple attempting Lenana at an unusually late hour. I decided to join them for the short walk up. The view was epic and it was good acclimatization (about 4,985m). Austrian is at 4,790m, by the way. From my prior conversation with those German mountaineers, I was seriously doubting that I'd be acclimatized enough for the summit attempt the next morning. But Simon said it was the only day he could do it, so I sort of had no choice. He had another group coming on Friday and needed the rest day between climbs. We went to sleep by 9pm. 

Simon caught us some rainbow trout in the Teleki River! 

Acclimatizing at Pt. Lenana

Day 3 - Austrian Hut to Nelion and Batian summit attempt

I set my alarm for 4:05 am and we'd planned to set out at 5:00 am. I only snoozed for about 10 minutes and got up to make myself a coffee (the real stuff, not that instant shit!). I couldn't belive it - I felt great! Simon on the other hand, had some trouble rousing himself out of bed and seemed to have a bit of a cough. Because of this, we set out at 5:30am sharp rather than the planned 5. Our brisk pace across the boulder field made up for this. At about 6:30am, we started the first pitch. The sunrise was among the best I've seen. We could see little bright specks of headlamps on Pt. Lenana, and could see Mt. Kilimanjaro in the very distance. It was very cold and I'd brought all of my clothes with me. 

Getting psyched up for the first pitch (of many)

After countless pitches, we got a rhythm going. The routine would go as follows. Simon would climb up and lay the protection (combination of webbing/quickdraws and cams) while I belayed him from below. Then he would yell "I'm safe!" Then I would yell "off belay!" He would take up the remaining rope until it was taught to my harness. I'd give the rope a good tug and yell "that's me!" Then I'd disconnect my safety sling from the anchor, and yell "climbing!" followed by his reply "climb on!" This routine became automated fairly quickly and we gained altitude at a respectable pace, taking no breaks other than a few seconds to catch my breath. Had this been at lower altitude, I still would have called it physically demanding. At about 5,000m, it was a whole 'nuther level. My breathing rate and heart rate stayed high the whole time. 

At some point, I unwittingly reached a notorious section known as 'The DeGraaf's Variation'. This resembled a rectangular indentation in the rock, very vertical, with few decent handholds and necessitating jamming one's self laterally and trusting the vibram soles of my second-hand mountaineering boots against diagonal rock face. "Should I put on my climbing shoes?" I asked Simon. "No need!" was the reply (every time I asked this). I guess he didn't want to waste time changing footwear. So, I ploughed ahead with some difficulty but managed to catch up with him. After a second similarly difficult pitch, I asked him when we were gonna reach the crux (the hardest section of the climb). "That was it. See? No need of climbing shoes" he said. Part of me was annoyed that he tricked me into not using my climbing shoes, but the other part of me felt very self-satisfied that I'd crushed it in mountaineering boots. The Germans had emphasized to me that climbing shoes would be "absolutely essential" for this section. I just laughed. 

A while later and we were only 2 pitches from reaching Nelion Summit, and it was 10:30am. Would we make it by 11am? We did! We reached Nelion at 10:58 am, proving the arrogant Germans wrong which was immensely satisfying. The Gate of the Mists beckoned and conveniently, the wind died down just as we reached it. But first, a 20-minute rest at Howell's Hut was in order, with some water and snacks. The hut is very small, only 1.5m tall and with rom enough for 4 people to lie down in. We howled at the top of our lungs in pure elation at reaching Nelion, and a single tear streamed down my check. We'd later learn that the folks down at Austrian hut could hear us very well and were celebrating with us, even though they could not see us. 

Atop Nelion Summit, with Batian in the background

We cut our well-deserved break short because time was not on our side and who knows how long this calm weather window would last. It had been howling wind up here for the past 2 days, and the day before, the peak was enshrouded in forest fire smoke which would have made it unclimbable. We were determined not to let our good fortune go to waste and set ourselves to task with aplomb. It started with a rope-less scramble followed by probably the scariest rappel I've ever done, into the Gate of the Mists. It was even more epic than it sounds. My gopro video of this shows me rappelling quite slowly because it was the first one of the day, but later on my rappels became much quicker. The GoPro also ran out of memory here cause I'd forgotten to wipe my friend's videos from when she borrowed it. Simon did a very clefver thing here where he had me attached to a second rope, which he used to steer me toward the narrow ridge where he waited for me. If I had gone too far to the right and overshot that ridged, I'd be f****ed. It 4 more pitches (I think?) to Batian. The feeling was not as epic as Nelion had been, because we could see the route and knew we would make it. But it still took us like an hour and a half to cross the GOTM. At last we stood atop Batian, the ultimate throne of a king who has conquered LIFE as his kingdom. I've read somewhere that "it's not the mountain we conquer, but ourselves." This is so true. The mental and physical test to get here was seriously hardcore. In fact, it was even harder than I'd imagined. I've seen pics of less fit people than me up on Batian and I'm baffled at how they managed. To me I felt like I was pushing myself to the limit. I guess they took more days to do it in is all I can think of. 

I busted out the Canadian flag for a photoshoot and we lingered there for about 20 minutes. The park motto is "Touch the Sky". We were truly doing that! I felt incredibly humbled by the forces of nature that graciously permitted us to bask in the glory this mountain throne for a fleeting moment. Mother nature could have easily thwarted us with any number of deterrents (snow squalls, winds, smoke, fog, rain...). Before I left, discretely pocketed two small rocks (one for my geologist friend and one for me). We had to cross the GOTM again but this time, it necessitated climbing up a thin strip of snow and ice using crampons. There was only one axe on hand so Simon led with it, carving a few handholds for me as he went. This took quite a while to do, but I made quick work of it using his handholds. It had been a long time since I'd used crampons, it felt good. 

Back to Nelion at 14:48 for another break. I left 1.2 litres of water in the hut for whoever might need it and to help reduce weight, and removed an empty plastic bottle to compensate. A long series of harrowing rappels (at ever increasing speed and efficiency) and we were back at the base by 17:26. Not bad! I finished my final rappel with speed and flourish and gave Simon hearty handshake. We finished the half-hour walk to Austrian hut and got there at 17:58, rounding off a 12.5 hour time. Not bad!!! Everyone at the hut congratulated us and Gerald has prepared us some tasty potato soup (not sure where he got potatoes). Simon then convinced me to do the walk back down via a gruelingly steep path to spend the night at MacKinder's Hut so I'd sleep better and cause Austrian was kinda crowded and noisy. It was the only bad advice he'd given me all day. The 6.5km trail (600m of elevation loss, mostly in the dark) almost finished me off. I could barely keep my eyes open and I almost fell asleep twice while walking, jerking myself awake as I started to stumble. We got there at 20:45. It was the most physically tired I've ever been. Also mentally, because it turns out constantly not dying for almost 12 hours straight does become rather taxing! Gerald really went above and beyond by rustling up a hearty soup with canned tuna and rice which was enough to coax me back out of bed. In my room, all alone in the cold dark night, I slept like a rock. 

The face of a man at full exhaustion

Day 4: MacKinder's Hut to Met Station Cabins

Nothing much to say about our last day, other than the fact that left at 10:00 and crushed the 11km trail in 3 hours flat! (The exact distance of this trail is hotly debated and depends on the source consulted). It was 13:59. I shared a bottle of Brandy with the caretakers for a few minutes (Gerald doesn't drink) and we hopped back into the comfort of my Nissan Xtrail to drive back to Naro Moru. 

Done and dusted

All in all, I can pretty confidently say this was the most demanding and hardcore thing I've ever done in my life. Certainly the most EPIC, by far!!! Through the experience, I've accepted that one's destiny is always gonna be a mixed stew of three things: external factors beyond one's control, preparation and planning, and execution. In this instance, I took care of the last two, and depended on luck for the other. This felt like a significant step for me, a highly metaphorical experience for all aspects of life. Another thing is that I now feel like I can officially call myself a 'mountaineer' without feeling like a fake. I've read that for every mountaineer, even after having just achieved one summit, he/she is already mentally planning the next one. For now, I'm just going to bask in the glory of my achievement, although, the thought of running the Nairobi half-marathon is an idea...