Horombo Hut

By the time we reach Horombo Hut, we've walked about 20 miles. We're not exactly tired, but the altitude is affecting us. I am unable to keep my food down.

We are well cared for. The company that organized our climb provided us not only with guides, but with a cook, and porters to carry our gear. About 50 tourists are climbing with us. Our group of four (me, my parents, and their friend Stan) is supported by a staff of 10! During the day, all one needs to carry is a water bottle, a camera, and a change of clothes. The porters take the rest.

Horombo Hut is actually many small wooden huts. It's much more civilized than one might expect. Everyone gets a comfortable cot, and a spot at the communal dining table; solar power provides light in the huts; a network of flimsy pipes channels water from a nearby stream, so you can at least brush your teeth. Some of the less inhibited members of our party (mostly Germans and Danes) strip and wash themselves in the stream's frigid waters.

We are obsessed with the peak. Who will make it, who won't is a subject of constant debate. We stop climbers who are coming down and grill them about their condition. Stan and my father remain upbeat; my illness has forced me to question my stamina.

---

"Getting advice"

	Small Frame	(950k/25 sec. QuickTime movie)
	Large Frame	(2.6M/25 sec. QuickTime movie)

---

I've taken Diamox, a drug to combat altitude sickness. I've eaten countless Power Bars. I jogged every day for a year to prepare for this hike and dropped $1300 on gear. The thought of not reaching Uhuru Peak is depressing, yet inescapable.

Day Three, we rest at Horombo. Day Four, we set out for The Saddle, a patch of barren desert beneath Kili's volcanic dome. The air gets thinner and colder. We put on gloves and hats and take more frequent breaks.