Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: MOUNTAIN (07/02/20)
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TITLE: Hidden Peaks | Previous Challenge Entry
By Jack Taylor
07/04/20 -
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When the second stretcher passed thirty minutes later, I stepped off the trail. The steep drop faded into the clouds below. The alpine forest with its long-feathered mosses, stands of bamboo divided by elephant trails, herds of mighty cape buffalo, and the giant lobelias sprouting like alien cacti, lay somewhere below. We were ten miles from the equator and ninety miles north-northeast of Nairobi.
My girls sucked juice boxes and nibbled on sandwiches given by Njoroge. “That was your porter,” he nodded toward the blanket-covered body. “He go too fast.” My neck and shoulder muscles tighten. Relief that I didn’t have to carry the heavy duffle bag gives way to guilt.
I look at my girls again, dragging on this second day with hours left. The guide relieved them of their backpacks. He read my mind. “Too far back,” Njoroge said. “Shipton’s hut is close, not far.” He moved off to encourage the girls back onto the trail.
The western and southern slopes of Kenya’s highest peak are Kikuyu territory. Up in the snowy elevation above is the place of Ngai (God). Ngai would descend from the sky to meet with the father of the tribe and so this is considered “the throne of God.” And we were almost on our knees trying to climb it. The snowy peaks mark the crown of the one who owns the ostrich and regulates the winds. Various tribal groups build their homes with their doors facing this sacred place so that the first thing they see each morning is the place of their Creator.
Geologists believe this giant rising from the African plains was once shaped like Mt. Fuji. Only Mt. Kilimanjaro is higher. Two thousand feet of glacial ice has melted under the African sun. Tomorrow, should we reach our refuge, I will push my girls into that snowy realm. For now, the barren trail winding through formations of basalt, porphyrites, phonolites, trachytes and kenytes sucks their strength.
This is the last of 12 Tasks I have given my girls to claim their womanhood. I have taken this trip once before with my son but I do not have what it takes to try this twice more. I am supported by double knee braces and walking poles. Years of rugby and football have taken their toll. I snap pictures ahead and behind. My breath clouds the camera window and I wipe it with my glove. I can only hope that something memorable will be captured.
“Isn’t God amazing,” I say to my girls as they shiver.
“I don’t want to be a woman,” my eldest says. “My legs can’t go another step.”
I wonder how Christ faced his mountain. His strength then still gives us strength in our mountains.
“Rest,” Njoroge says. “Twenty minutes. Almost there.” He repeats this ten times along the way until the girls refuse to believe him anymore. And then, as the day dims, voices tumble down. “It is there,” Njoroge says. “Dinner is waiting.”
The girls are too tired to nibble at the cool goat stew but they consume a mandazi (Kenyan doughnut) and drink a mug of chai (very sweet tea). They put all their clothing on and climb into their sleeping bags. At 2 am we are summoned for more tea as we make the final push to reach the peak at sunrise.
As we emerge, snow is falling and the girls are revived. This is the first snow they have seen. Not even during our brief stays in Canada did it fall.
My eldest is weak and wretches dry heaves over and over as the guide pushes, coaxes and encourages her to keep up with the party. I don’t want another stretcher. I keep the pace and push her over the last barrier to reach the top. The sun is up and glorious. In the sub-zero temperature, the stay is brief and we are down again. In a single day, we must climb down the entire way through icy rain and muddy rivers. God is good.
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