Articles

Kilimanjaro - Simon and Erick Top the Western Breach

Written by Simon Lowe, February 2008

The entire route from my tent doorway at Arrow Camp to Uhuru Summit was covered in 2 inches of fresh, but wet snow. It was generally a warm and windless night, and 20 minutes after our 3:15 am start, we stopped to shed fleeces � we�d been far too pessimistic.

As expected, we made quick progress up the initial boulders and screes, and found ourselves at the top of the yellow ridge, that marks the very lowest section of the route, within 40 minutes or so. Here, the route crosses over the top of these rocks, having climbed up the left hand-side (in ascent), and then hits steeper slabs. Whilst these would be straightforward if dry, covered in wet snow the section required some concentration as the ground became steeper and generally slippier. I remember this section from 1999, when I first climbed the route, and people do need to be steady here as there are some demanding steps. However, the terrain quickly eases as you trend left, back onto open scree slopes.

I expected these slopes to end abruptly, within not many minutes, at the base of �The Train�, the obvious rock that swoops down from the high rocks near the top of the Breach (see photo right). So upward we plodded, on increasingly loose and moving screes. Here we slowed considerably, and it become clear we would not reach the top of the Breach before sunrise. What�s needed on these screes is a firm foothold and the best way to get this is from a stiff pair of boots (B2 rated) with plenty of traction from an aggressive tread pattern on the sole. For my part, I was comfortable in my Scarpa Mantas (new out of the box), whereas poor Erick, who was wearing softer yet perhaps more comfortable boots, was not getting the same purchase with each step. I must admit I became impatient as The Train failed to arrive despite the constant upward struggle. With each zig then zag, I expected to be confronted by the towering front face of The Train, yet on each turn just more scree and no cliff to be seen within reach of my bright LEDs. But we didn�t stop or falter, just continued, set in our rhythm, with Erick (the route-finder general) determinedly ploughing upwards.

If there was any hesitation, then perhaps it was Erick�s awareness that we were well passed the nose of The Train, and moving up its left-hand flank (in ascent), where the notorious rock-fall of 2 years before had killed 3 and injured many more (mainly porters). I had always thought and continue to believe that porters should not climb the Breach. I find it immoral, reprehensible even, that western trekkers who are asked to sign a waiver indemnifying the national park for injury as the result of rock-fall in the Breach are prepared to take porters here � just so they can have the comfort of a chemical loo (among other things) waiting for them in the Crater (where some people think it�s OK to crap and to camp). And all simply because they would struggle to make the summit and descend the same day. The Breach is no place for trekkers or porters � but for mountaineers who can assess the risks and have the knowledge, skill and experience to move through the Breach in a way that minimises the dangers to themselves. To force porters (who they do not even ensure are equipped for the cold of the mountain or for the scrambling, snow and scree) to assume the same risks is wrong. It is time the National Park were clear in forbidding porters from carrying loads to the Crater via the Western Breach, especially when for a good team of like-minded and motivated mountaineers, there is no need to camp in the Crater at all.

With these thoughts in mind, I was greatly relieved on seeing The Train close up, especially when I realised that it had been speeding passed for the last 40 minutes or so, and we were half-way to its top already. From the bottom, the train looks like a continuous feature, but in fact it is 2 distinct parts � the second carriage tapering, and of lower profile, leads up and to the heart of the upper rocks. Here, we jumped onto the roof, to ride the train upwards. Now we were on much firmer rock, enjoying scrambling up blocks and corners that led quickly onwards. Although, we had to remain cautious to brush the snow off ledges to ensure no ice rested below to lead to an unwary slip, we were able to accelerate towards the exit slopes. Generally speaking the scrambling here is very easy and great fun, even if one has to remain vigilant to the large drops and the odd hint of exposure that occasionally sucks from the darkness below one�s heels.

We had been going for about 2.5 hours when the light started to fill the sky, and we were now well underway towards the top of the Breach. For us this was slightly disappointing as Erick had hoped we would be at the Crater Rim in that time. This estimate was based on our last outing when we had gone from Kibo Hut to Gillman�s Point in much the same time-span. But, the loose snow and the uncertainty of the scree had no doubt cooled our heels this time out, and we had to content ourselves with a more modest rate of ascent. For my part, I was feeling the height and was very pleased to call a halt for a drink, and to pack away headtorches. Having rested, I was optimistic the rest of the Breach would pass quickly as this is how I remembered it from before. But, my memory must have been faulty, as once off the solid rock of The Train, we were thrown back onto unconsolidated scrambling and scree, punctuated by rock-steps covered in snow. Easy enough with care, but by now, I was weary, whereas Erick was showing no signs of slowing. I just wanted to look up to see the final hurdle. But, each time we punctured the skyline, a new, higher one appeared that lay between us and the flat-earth of the Crater floor above.

Whilst there�s nothing here to intimidate or to slow progress, it�s no place to relax or to linger, as the whole environment speaks of rocks inexorably teased by gravity to make their fateful plummet downwards. So, on and on, until the final rampart stood in front of us, silhouetted against the bright blue morning sky beyond, and which we knew hovered over the crater. Here, licks of ice fall off the crater�s edge and force some careful route finding to avoid the alarming rush of Vibram rubber across their polished tops. Taken with the steepness of the final barrier, the route is forced off to the right, across the head of a gully banked with old neve. Then a little scramble, a dash of rock, a final blast of scree, and the entire Breach lies below. Almost bewildered, blinking and panting against the altitude, the crater floor opens out in front, and it�s done.

Well, it would be if you were actually at the summit! But that remains almost 200 metres above. Now, not having the interest to take your mind from the mundane pain of climbing at extreme altitudes, you know that the final slope�s going to hurt. For Erick and I we simply, unspeakingly, decided the best way to do it was to get on with it. Quietly, we moved over to the base of the slope, enjoying the almost total freedom afforded by the flatness and openness of the crater floor. Soon enough, and shedding even more layers, as the sun was now warming the crater to furnace type temperatures, we took the slope to task. The slope and the whole of the crater was beautifully covered in snow, but the reflected light was going to make us sweat for the top. So, we sweated, but we didn�t stop and 40 minutes later, we reached Uhuru Point and the top of Africa.

Simon Lowe, Managing Director, Jagged Globe. 14 February 2008.

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