A jaw dropping conversation with a porter.

With a beautiful site like the Kitandara Hut and adjacent lakes, we were quite tempted to hang here. At least have a second thermos of hot tea. We had kept the option open to climb Mt. Baker. We even had a spectacular clear day. However, we let it slip away because we felt it would just leave too many loose ends and would make our last day too hectic.

The day's major obstacle was 14,000' Freshfield Pass. Since we were already at just over 13,000,' it wouldn't be much of a slowdown.
By the time we arrived at the pass, I had hopelessly stuffed both my camera's memory cards. Each day, I would trash any image that was not crisp, well composed or photoshop-able. As a dear teacher-photographer-friend I had in high school always told me, "You can never hurt a slideshow by editing it." I suspect he meant it more energetically with my presentations than with others.

Regardless, I did not have the will to edit any more images away. I pulled out the little Flip video camera. I handed it to Vittorio, figuring he was ripe for Hollywood. From the way his posture changed, he agreed. My partner hung his head, knowing our personal photographer's days were now numbered. Vittorio, always the professional, knew he would have to double up and shoot both formats.

Anyway, at the pass, I wanted to get a shot and had to settle for video, even though it really complicates a show.
I instructed Vittorio on the golden rules of video:
1. 10 seconds of footage at the beginning and end, to edit with.
2. every scene tells a complete story.
3. Any motion needs to be slow. The audience should not even realize there is a camera.
4. Watch the lighting on the subject. Plan out the shot, camera location and subject movements. The camera should not move.
I spewed in his direction until his ears started bleeding. At that point, I figured there were diminishing returns to me using up breath, especially here at 14,000.'

It must always be tough to watch budding videographers. Vittorio's pans were fast. He walked with the subject, rather than let him get out of range. One time, when the porter he was filming was at a loss for the English word he was searching for, Vittorio finished the sentence, from behind the camera. To cap it off, every scene he shot, did a full 360 degree circle around him, Sound of Music fashion. All we needed was the song.

It was during this phase in Vittorio's rapidly developing career, that I was just admiring the view into the Republic of Congo, just to the west of us. I was looking for guerrilla activities coming up the valley below, when I heard, "There used to be snow here. Now its all gone. It used to be so beautiful. Its so dry now. Now its all gone. And, I don't know why. I don't know why. I don't understand. I don't understand." He went on for several minutes, not repeating himself.

Out of the fog I had slipped into, I bolted back to consciousness.
"Do you mean in your lifetime, there was snow here?"
He was too distraught to acknowledge my question.
Knowing the microphone on the Flip video camera couldn't possibly be picking up the audio from this far away, I had to step into the scene and get the shot re-done.

This time the 58 year old porter would carry a digital voice recorder. I did not care if it was visible to the audience. This was too, too important to lose the audio. I walked up behind him, as if we were having a conversation.

The porter could have easily been the elder statesman of the village. His community mindedness was impressive, with significant concern for the long term ramifications climate change will have for this area.

The area surrounding us was the final slope leading to the pass itself (they have a habit of putting a sign at a pass, then we walk to a significantly higher height-of-land, so I was mostly confused where the passes actually were). Vittorio chimed in, stating that there was permanent snow here, even 20 years ago. Looking around, I would have guessed I was surrounded by a century's worth of plant growth. I would not have guessed this area had seen permanent snow in my lifetime.

The descent off Freshfield Pass was quite steep and slabby. We spent seeming hours descending steeply. Yet, still unique, pretty, varied and another bell ringer of a day. We ended the day in our last hut for the trip, the Guy Yeoman Hut.

Elisha, our cook, is no fool. The last two days of food was the best. This guy had been around the block before. Tips can more than double their wage here. Frequently, tips were handed out at the end of today, or in the morning. As our little band would be doing.
Wages are $10.00/day for porters, of which there are likely to be $3.00/ day expenses (rentals). The Cooks get $12.00/ day. We found that surprising, with the responsibility they take on and the critical contribution they make to a trip. Guides get $20.00/day. If they can get their wages, again, in tips then the trip is making them money.

 We had a business man, a couple of teachers, a couple of kids in school and a few full time porters. It is beneficial enough for men to leave their jobs to porter.

Educating their children is expensive everywhere. We were told it costs $150.00/year through primary school years. High school cost $250.00/quarter and they go three quarters a year. Even though we pay high school costs at home, I will refrain from barking next time the town gets all riled up over the latest levy. How these folks get a kid through school is beyond me. Elisha has 4 kids.

Mount Baker

Descending the rock slabs on Mt. Stanley is just a slow process.

90% of my time anymore seems like I am driving to some worksite. Long drive, usually not too long a job. When I was climbing all the time, a slower pace was second nature. I am too used to a faster pace. It took a conscious effort to accept reality. For here, in the Ruwenzori, walking is the speed. These guys have all ridden in cars. I would think they will occasionally rent one. But, down, down, down, ever so slowly, is a challenge to my 'making peace with it' department.

Just keep in mind, "And, this too, shall end."

Eventually, there is the Elena Hut. We took 45 minutes there and continued on our way down. Our night's resting place was the Kitandara Huts, on the shore of the lakes of the same name.
For a place with such a fierce rep for rain, we have seen a tremendous amount of good weather. Not southern California good weather. More like Glacier Bay, Alaska good weather. Still, good enough weather to consider doing some rock climbing here.

The west wall of Mt. Baker is no slope you would ever think you could walk up. It is closer to a big wall, than it is to a crag. There may be a route where you would be scrambling after 600' of steep rock climbing, but not many.

Vittorio really had me going, when, in an 'aha!' moment, I asked, wide eyed, if the waterfalls we were surrounded by ever froze? A thousand foot waterfall is ordinary here. There are plenty of bigger ones. Imagine ice routes on the Equator! I found out later, from the boss of the Ruwenzori Mountaineering Services, that, no, they don't freeze. Just atmospheric ice- rime ice. I'm not going to fly 18 hours for patches of rime.

But I could be encouraged to throw in a pretty good rack for a climb on the W. face of Baker. And a traverse of Speke. And a long ridge traverse of Margherita and Alexander.

So, you Ruwenzori vets out there, (I know there are none- nobody goes to the R. and, then,  nobody reads this. The odds would be astronomical. I can tell all the lies I want.) I hope I may be excused for considering rock climbs on the large West Face of Mount Baker. I can only imagine what it would be like in rain. The gear list would require wetsuits and a chisel and hooks. There would be plenty of features routes would follow where a guy could drown. The slabs on the southern end of the wall, towards the lakes, would be pretty tough in the wet. On the northern end of the 2mile(?) long wall is steeper terrain, better suited to climbing in the rain.

However, I really like the idea of coming home to a hut after a day on the crags. Considering how wet everything would get in a tent, after a week in a wet basecamp. Maybe the next trip should include a clothes dryer, one of those salad shooter style rigs.

Needless to say, my time between The Elena Hut and the Kitandara Huts passed very pleasantly, considering the tactics needed to climb the routes I saw before me made for pleasant amusement.

The hut is spectacularly situated well within view of the lake, right off the front porch. The lakes are beautiful, yet still at 13-some thousand feet. Again, every day is a bell ringer.