Lengai

---

When I return to Eastern Africa, and believe me I will, this is one place I simply can’t give a miss. Lengai was the highlight of my Safari experience and it couldn’t have come at a better time.

It was the fourth day of the Safari and we were back in Karatu, fresh from the Serengeti. We were once again clients of the lollipop guest house and had spent the previous night in our usual fashion. Sitting around drinking Tanzanian lagers and talking until drooping eyelids prevailed. Early the next morning I awoke to raised voices. It appeared that someone had broken into our car and robbed us during the night. Thankfully I had the foresight to keep my valuables with me in the room so my personal losses were pretty minimal. Things weren’t so great for the fellas though. Their bags of personal belongings were taken along with what little food we had left from the baboons, our cooking stove and gas, the guys’ sleeping pads, my mosquito net, the jack for the car, and various other tidbits.

The nature of the robbery was a bit strange in that the thief had climbed in through the bedroom window of our driver, snagged the keys from his trousers and left them in the car when they were through pilfering. This meant that the thief had intimate knowledge of our group and was likely staying at the lollipop because they knew the room in which our driver was staying.

Things heated up when Justin went to the police station and very publicly pointed the finger at the owner of the guest house, a friend and colleague of the guys named Reagan. The defendant, Reagan, and a few others presented a pretty good case that the whole robbery was a farce cooked up by Justin in order to shame Reagan and ruin the “reputation” of his establishment. I’ve included a picture of our bathroom at said establishment. Apparently these two have beef over an Italian girl that was involved with Reagan a few years ago. At this point I was trying to reserve judgment since I had just met both of these gentlemen and focus on not getting frustrated that I was wasting my limited Safari time and was paying by the day for the rental car. After the fact I’m sure that it was not Justin and therefore I have my suspicions that it was in fact Reagan, but this is unimportant. The only reason I’m mentioning the story here is too convey that on the road to to Lengai morale was low and tensions were high.

I can’t necessarily speak for the guys but my spirits lifted as soon as I saw the mountain. Ol Doinyo Lengai “God’s Mountain” is the last active volcano in Tanzania and I was itching to climb it. The night of the robbery I met an energetic young man named Frankie who works as an independent safari guide and leads trips up Kilimanjaro. I shared with Frankie my disappointment in missing out on KJ and my plans to climb Lengai. He assured me that while summiting KJ is an incredible experience, in his opinion, Lengai is more difficult and more rewarding. This was coming from a man who had climbed Kilimanjaro 35 times! He explained that the difficulty and uniqueness of climbing Lengai is that it must be done under the cover of darkness as it is simply too hot to climb during the day. The climb itself is supposed to take about 5.5-6 hours and the idea is to arrive at the top just as the sun rises(at about 6:30am). This means that you and your Massai guide leave at about midnight, summit around 6:00, watch the sunrise, snap some pics, and descend. Frankie confidently told me “when the sun rises, what you see will change your life.” I couldn’t wait. He also told me to tell the people that run the park that I am a friend of his so that they would give me the Tanzanian residential discount as they don’t receive a lot of tourists at this time of the year. Upon arriving I discovered that this meant instead of paying $60 per night I paid about $8.. Also Gudlak was able to finagle a discount from $256 to $175 to climb the mountain resulting in a total of $133 saved.. Not too shabby. You can buy quite a bit of goat, chips, and lager with that. (This was my diet whenever Justin wasn’t cooking)

After we came to an agreement on the price we drove through Massai Bomas in the small park to the resort in which we were staying. I believe it is formally known as a camp or guest house but this place is class. It’s an open camp setup shaded by large trees with a view of Lake Natron. (I know what you’re thinking but the lake is too alkaline to swim in.) You have the option of staying in your own tents in the campground for $8 per night or in one of their tents for $60. Our tent could have slept about 12 people on tempurpedic mattresses and had a bathroom (well worth the $60 if you like living comfortably). It was also placed conveniently close to the naturally heated freshwater pool, kitchen, and beautiful, well-stocked bar.

We unloaded in the campsite and lit a small cooking fire while Justin set about preparing dinner (RIP cookstove). I decided to take my leave for a relaxing dip in the pool, which was pure unadulterated bliss after almost a week of romping around Tanzania’s dusty national parks. During the course of my travels this past year, including Mexico, I’ve often found myself contemplating how freaking lucky I am to be doing what I’m doing. I suppose it is less contemplation and more so a futile attempt to make sense of the chain of events that lead to the given moment in time. This usually just leads to a sort of stunned mental silence in which I try my best to just take it all in and enjoy the present. Such was the state I found myself in as I floated in my private heated pool watching the sun set and bats dive bomb the water in search of insects.

When I finally managed to drag myself out of the pool I went to my room to wash my clothes and take my first hot shower since Mwanza (again, pure flipping ecstasy…) before preparing my day pack for the climb. After this I joined the guys for a spaghetti dinner and met my guide, Laizar, a 28 year old Massai who looks about 18. Laizar (pronounced Liza, as in Minnelli) is a soft-spoken, reticent young man and an absolute legend. There is no one I would have rather had with me on top of that mountain.

After dinner the guys felt like having a beer so we went to the bar, I opted for coffee and a few stems of miraha. As we sat around sipping our respective brews I mentally prepared for the climb. At about 9:30 the thunder storm hit. I glanced over at Gudlak as soon as I heard the first thunderous clap, he just looked at me and shook his head. No one climbs the mountain in the rain. Eastern African rains come in 2 sizes, vua kubwa (big rain) and vua ndogu (small rain). Vua kubwa, in my experience, is like a bite-sized monsoon, a torrential downpour that seems to last anywhere from 10-20 minutes. Whereas vua ndogu is a light rain that can last hours. As the first drops began to fall on the roof of the bar I tried to gauge what this particular storm would turn into. It didn’t look good.. I drained another cup of coffee as the guys and I discussed the possibility of Laizar and I climbing the mountain that night with some of the Massai employees of the resort. The Massai suggested that it would be poor judgment for me to climb in the rain and Gudlak expressly forbade it. I told Laizar that if he was game we were climbing it that night no matter the weather. Much to Gudlak’s distaste, he agreed and talk soon turned to what time we should begin our ascent. Gudlak was insistent that we leave as soon as possible so that we can make the climb “pole pole,” slowly and carefully. He wanted us at the base of the mountain by 10:30. I told him this seemed far too early but he was so upset that I relented in order to appease him and we set off.

The drive to the mountain was interesting. Between the coffee and the miraha I was chomping at the bit and felt ready to sprint all the way to the summit. Instead we spent maybe 30 minutes driving 1 or 2 miles stopping every couple of minutes for Laizar and I to scout around with our flashlights whenever we lost the road. Sure enough, we reached the trailhead at about 10:30 and I bade farewell to Gudlak and Odee and set off with Laizar into the dark. The first few miles were just a slight incline through high grass that made me feel as if I was in that scene opening scene in Jurassic Park. My eagerness in beginning the actual climb and the idea of being chased by raptors put some pep in my step and soon enough we were climbing bare rock. I soon realized that there really isn’t a trail but more so a certain face of the mountain that everyone climbs as every once in a while we would stop, scan about for a safe path with our flashlights (or torches) and continue on. The climb itself wasn’t terribly difficult, not to say that it’s easy to climb a mountain at night in the rain. But aside from the occasional slip on loose rocks I didn’t really feel as if I was in any danger until maybe the last ¼ of the climb. About two thirds of the way up Laizar slipped and broke his left shoe. I mean somehow literally snapped off the sole of his shoe from the toebox to about mid-foot. I thought this might be the end but he insisted “Hamna Shida” (“no worries”) and continued on. (Note: Hakuna Mattata is only said in Kenya) The same thing happened to the other shoe on the way down. Like I said, he’s a champ.

About 45 minutes after the shoe-breaking incident I smelled the acrid scent of sulfur. I checked my watch, it was 1:56. This was not good. For the last hour or so Laizar had insisted on frequent rest breaks, now I realized why. We were on pace to reach the top 4 hours before sunrise. The final 30 minutes of climbing were a bit dicey. The hand and foot-holds were few and far between and everything was slick. My flashlight had also died right about when things became difficult. I had to rely on a very small, trusty, headlamp that my uncle gifted me a few years ago. This headlamp also led me and some friends out of Sequoia National Park when we lost the trail a little over a year ago but that’s another story. Anyways we clambered our way up to a point 20 or 30 meters from the top. It was 2:30, I cursed Gudlak’s motherly attitude under my breath. The 6 hour climb in which we had left 2 hours early for had taken us 4 hours.. Maybe I was a bit overzealous in my pace but either way.. We were in for a long night. I stripped off my soaking T-shirt and changed into my dry longsleeve and gloves before putting my jacket back on. My “water resistant” jacket and pants were anything but, both were completely soaked through. Thankfully by this point the rain had mostly stopped, however, being that we were near the top, there was a biting wind to contend with. We hunkered down under my space blanket and tried to get as comfortable as we could on the rock face. This was where we would remain for nearly 4 hours.

That 4 hours was the most difficult experience of my entire life. Soaked and shivering above the clouds with rocks jabbing me from all angles I just tried to make myself small enough to fit under the blanket. This resulted in nasty cramps in my hamstrings and hipflexors. As cold as I was I felt terrible for Laizar who was dressed in all cotton and has probably 5% body fat. This guy was shivering uncontrollably. I found myself constantly reassuring him that I would give him a big tip when this was all over and pleading with him to make it through the night so that I could see the view. His response was always “Hamna shida” and occasionally "baridi" (cold) and more shivering. I tried not to check my watch often but it seemed that each time I checked it only a few minutes had gone by. I also tried to catch a bit of sleep but it seemed that even if I did manage to drift off I would be immediately woken by a cramp. Around 5:30, after a particularly bad cramp I had to stand. Laizar looked up and said “we climb top now?” I couldn’t refuse. We made our way past sulfur vents to the crater. I could barely even see inside it. I screamed in frustration and it echoed in the crater as if to mock my childishness. I confessed to Laizar that all I wanted to do was see the valley and take a damn picture but I knew that we should descend soon. He told me “hamna shida, we wait, you make many pictures.” I even argued with him that we should descend now as I was worried about the state of his toes. If mine were frozen even with smartwool socks and proper hiking boots, his must have been ready to fall off. And so we sat there under our blanket for another hour eating PB and J sandwiches and avocados waiting for the sun to rise. When it did, it was glorious.

The view was breathtaking. The pictures I took can’t even come close to doing it justice. This could be due to the fact that I was so elated I hardly even looked at the viewfinder as I took the initial pictures, which I do regret a bit. The crater itself was nothing special but the surrounding view was 360 degrees of pure awesome. Lake Natron, the Great Rift (a fault line that runs through Kenya, Tanzania, and Ethiopia), and the rest of the surrounding valley with its little rivers was beautiful. And in the distance you could even see Mount Kilimanjaro, Mount Meru, and whatever the name of the third highest mountain is.

I’m not sure how long we stayed on the summit but I was understandably hesitant to tear my eyes away from what I had waited so long to see. Eventually however, Laizar convinced me to begin our descent. As we walked around the crater I realized that a rainbow had formed in the opposite side of the valley just over the great rift. I was able to get some decent photos. As we passed the spot where we had spent the night I paused and grabbed a small volcanic rock that had surely been jabbing me in the ass all night. As cheesy as it is I thought it would serve me well in the future as a reminder that sometimes life’s most difficult challenges result in the reaping of the largest rewards.

The descent was interesting.. It was fun to be able to see the climb I had made in the dark. It was surprisingly difficult however and resulted in many close calls and one hard fall. Laizar also managed to break the sole of his other shoe on the way down soon after I had snapped a picture of the original offending shoe. I gave him a healthy tip with which to buy some quality boots though. He certainly earned it.

We reached the bottom of the mountain and took our trailhead picture before heading back to camp for the most glorious omelet I’ve ever had, another dip in the pool and a shower before heading out to check out lake Natron and do the “waterfall walk.” The thing about Lengai is that you can do everything there is to do there in a day. But I’d recommend taking at least 3. It seems like the perfect place for some quality relaxation, not that I had that luxury.. There were adventures to be had! Anyways, we headed out to Lake Natron to see the flamingoes, there were thousands. I tried to get as close as I could but the sand, if you could call it that, was this strange kind of hot, heavy aggregate mass that sucked the bottoms of my flops so hard it separated the soles before I gave up and snapped pictures from about 50 meters from the water. After saying goodbye to our pink-feathered friends we headed to the waterfall walk, which is essentially just climbing over rocks and wading through warm pools until you reach a series of small waterfalls. Still riding the high of my mountain experience I was absolutely loving every minute of it.

As I struggle to keep my eyes open long enough to finish this post I have to again lament the fact that I lack the writing ability to accurately describe the people I’m coming in contact with and the experiences that I’m having. Just know that I’m having the time of my life and Lengai was incredible.

---

Photos

Ol Donyo Lengai
and some cheeky ostrich

Lollipop Bathroom
Like I said.. "quality"

Pewl
It's a lot warmer than it looks

Summit Pic
Our feet are certainly still numb

Worth The Wait
That's Kili top right

National Geographic
Right?

Legend
Like a Boss

Lake Natron
and some cheeky flamingos

Volcanic Sand?
Gripping stuff...