Bob Climbs Kilomanjaro

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Bob’s Report:

Curious how one thing leads to another. It all started at the local fitness club. In the bravado of a post-workout discussion we proposed adventures that would be a goal to keep our workouts both frequent and intense. The suggestion that appealed to us was to climb Mt. Rainier in Washngton State. We decided to do it and six months later realized that the effort was similar to running a marathon with risk, thrill, and danger elements thrown in.

Subsequent to the climb, I found myself on the mailing list of a prominent climb leader. His brochures detailed the many climbs he had scheduled for the next year. I skimmed one pamphlet that described plans for a Mt. Kilomanjaro climb in Kenya and filed it in a corner of my desk pile as being impossible. But as I reread the brochure several times over the ensuing weeks I began to think, “why not?” “What am I waiting for?” Eventually I sent in a deposit and had another goal for which I needed to maintain regular workouts.

Na Pali Trail Kauai Hawaii

After our son Josh graduated from Whitman College, he joined his former roommate and friend, Phil, in Kauai where they were to spend a couple years working and repairing some cottages that belonged to Phil’s dad near Poipu Beach that were damaged in a hurricane September 1992.

Hurricane Iniki caused more damage than any other hurricane to affect Hawaiʻi since records began. It hit the island of Kauai as a Category 4 on September 11. Iniki caused almost $2 billion in damage, mainly to Kauai. It remains the second costliest East/Central Pacific hurricane on record, only behind Hurricane Paul in 1982. Six died as a result. Iniki brought winds of 140 miles per hour (230 km/hr).

Phil’s dad’s house, closer to the beach, was lifted clear off the concrete pad. For weeks afterward people were finding papers and objects they knew belonged to him because he was a well-known Methodist minister on the island.

Bob and I took the opportunity visit Josh while he lived on the island. We hiked the Na Pali Trail, which, in retrospect probably wasn’t a good idea. But what did we know was up ahead. Namely a trail along side the mountain…very very narrow trail…with a vertical drop of 300+ feet to the ocean rocks below. At times all we had to hang onto were branches of bushes and trees. Alas we turned back before we got to the hippie beach.

When the work on the cottages was done, Josh worked for a restaurant in the nearby Hyatt Hotel. He was offered a promotion but opted to quit and go to culinary school. Phil, who had been an art major is an artist and stay at home dad while married with two children in Seattle. For Josh the rest is history.

Rafting The Grand Canyon

After two years on a waiting list my husband and I were finally able to spend 18 days paddle rafting the Grand Canyon…putting in above Flagstaff Arizona. We went with a company called “Azra”…not a cadillac company…but with knowledgeable and entertaining river guides who have been running the river for years. Highly recommended. We went in September…the best time to go because all the motorized boats are off the river and it is quiet.

Each morning the trip leader, who had worked as a park ranger for years, would gather us round the morning breakfast fire…his maps spread out so he could explain the geological formations we would see that day. Every few days we would take a hike up a side canyon to view Indian ruins or swim in ice cold streams…or just canyoneer the narrow gorges.

During the day, while on the river, if anyone had to go potty it was just projected over the side of the boat…or bare asses hung over the boat in the case of the females. “The solution to pollution is dilution” the trip leader advised us!

Interestingly, some of the most memorable moments were when the boats were tied together and we just floated lazily down stretches of the river that were not filled with white-knuckling number 5 rapids…listening to Irish fiddle tunes and gazing up at the configurations of the canyon walls.

In the evenings the trip leaders would set up the “honey buckets” (everything that goes onto the river comes back out except for the pee) and cook dinner while we selected a site and put up our tents. Then out came the musical instruments, the beer and interesting conversations with people like the young Chinese guy who had been in Tianamen Square when China brutally put down the student demonstrations.  The students were so sure that change was imminent, he said, and when it didn’t happen he was so disappointed he just left China and his educator parents behind. He is now a banker in San Francisco.

One night it was warm so we all slept out under the stars on the beach. However about 1am it started to rain and a strong wind came up. We all jumped up to put up our tents but Bob and I weren’t careful to throw something heavy into the tent to hold it down and the wind took it as we were trying to pound in the stakes. There went the tent rolling miles a minute toward the river! I ran after it…not catching it until it was half way across the river…Bob watching it all from the beach!

A trip of a lifetime with unforgotten river companions!