A taste of the grand Aberdare Ranges: Hiking Elephant Hill

The aGikuyu call it “Nyandarua” (“Drying Hide”).

The Place of God.

If you had stood at the exact spot I was standing before the hike begun, you would have had the same epiphany that I had; we are such a miniscule soupçon of creation, of Life, of the Universe and yet, we as human beings, feel the most entitled.

Entitled of Life. Entitled of belonging. Entitled of owning. Entitled of presence. Entitled of Space.

As if we are better deserving of this planet than the lesser of the living beings and the indication of this self-absorbed belief was clear during the hike; lonesome tree stumps stood pitiful in random clearings of the forest, felled by the inevitable greedy hand of civilization.

And time stood still for me, in those precious moments, air thinning in my nose and my heart pounding, my mind grappled by anxious thoughts of the looming task of conquering that hill.

Someone in the bus had pointed it out as we approached, showing us why it was aptly named “Elephant Hill” 

It looks like an elephant on its knees, trunk flat to the ground, ears tucked behind its back yet slightly raised.

Do you see it? (It’s the big one in the middle by the way. Open your eyes, that’s an Elephant!)

So, I sat there. Wondering what sudden lunacy had come over me.

Climbing hills? Like, you have nothing else to do with your precious time, like drink some wine or blow dry your hair or try and get past the first 5 episodes of Sense 8?

You woke up at 0445, to toss yourself into the wilderness just to get away from your seemingly morbidly routine life & somewhat to get in touch with your higher self??

Isn’t that what Hippies do & are you a Hippie? Is it because there’s no husband or babies?

I stared in silence.

At that rock formed elephant.

It was a beautiful view though, as intimidating as the climb was.

Everything else, like the inconsequential & infantile partisan games at work, the ever hungry bills that constantly need to be fed off my wallet, my loosely-wired neighbor, my transitory mood swings & every such thing, at that very instant, morphed into detached, far gone annoyances that needed no more energy than I was accustomed to giving them.

My energy was transfixed on the grandeur of mother nature that was pirouetted around me.

Nyandarua. 

How can one not realize that there is something much higher than the Self, while standing at a section of the isolated volcanic range that forms the easternmost wall of the Great Rift Valley, butt cheeks freezing, knees shaking, heart pounding as the wind whispers ominous mutterings into the pores of your skin, affirming what you have always known; that Life & Death are lovers.

The Ranges sit regal, at 160 km long, soaring up to peaks of 13,000 ft, laying south of the Equator and northeast of Naivasha and Gilgil, innocent and angelic, quite modest in their own glory.

They are like the aristocrat families who had settled on their eastern side, boasting undulating hills and valleys much like jeweled armchairs and gold coated smoking pipes.

The Western side is home to a vast array of altitude savvy vegetation, like precious – stoned rings adorned on long, graceful fingers; bamboo forests decorate the mid altitudes and crisp moors and clump grass glisten in the higher altitudes.

Enduring through time like crowned heads born into royalty, the Ranges are rich with history and privilege:

“The Aberdare Range” was named by Joseph Thomson in 1884 in honor of Lord Aberdare, who at the time was President of the Royal Geographical Society and the Royal Historical Society. He was also a Liberal politician who had served as Home Secretary from 1868 to 1873 & later became the first Chancellor of the University of Wales.

The area is well known as the headquarters of Kimathi wa Waciuri, alias Dedan Kimathi, the valiant and iron-hearted Tsar of the 1950s infamous “Land and Freedom Army” popularly known as the Mau Mau who led a vehement, Plantagenet style rebellion against British Colonial Rule in Kenya, eventually leading to Kenya’s independence in 1963.

Elizabeth II became Queen of the United Kingdom while vacationing at the Tree Tops Lodge after her father, King George VI breathed his last on the night of February 5th, 1952.

The Ranges is where the Rogue Elephant of Aberdare Forest met its death, felled by a bullet from J.A. Hunter’s trusted .475 rifle, after an epic 2 day hunting spree.

The Ranges, home to Elephant Hill, is also a nominated UNESCO World Heritage Site.

*****

The best hiking route to Elephant Hill is via the Njabini Forest Station Gate, in Kinangop (take the new Nakuru Road on the upper escarpment for about 60km to a place known locally as flyover. Turn left and go over the flyover across Nakuru Road. A few meters after crossing the bridge, turn left at the next junction and drive about 23km to Njabini town. The Njabini Forest Station is 4km further on).

You are required to be accompanied by armed Kenya Wildlife Service (KWS) escorts from the Forest Gate and as is custom for all national reserves, parks and forest parks, the official tariffs for park entry and armed escort are applicable.

I did the hike with some colleagues; Diana (as always), Maryam, Davie (first time on a hike) & Victor. (Eric had photography engagements, which means the images on this post are entirely amateur and are courtesy of our smart phones & frost bitten fingers, so bear with me if the clarity seems a little off).

Diana was spot – on about Elephant Hill.

The climb was incredibly HARD but unquestionably rewarding.

Every step I took, every exasperated grunt, every loud curse, every whimper, every throbbing muscle, every stifled cry was absolutely worth it, because nothing prepares you for the Aberdares backdrop, which truthfully is awe-inspiring.

The climb starts at 2600M and takes roughly 8-10 hours (3-4 hours each on the ascent and descent).

Diana, Maryam, Davie & I decided on the onset to keep a steady pace, being wary of altitude sickness. (Davie ended up keeping pace with Victor, who was keeping pace with the lead group, which, well…. us girls decided to just get lost in the scenery).

The first few kilometers are over relatively flat forest covered terrain, cutting through farms dotting cabbage sprouts and pine tree seedlings.

God must have been on our side because it did not rain during our hike, which was a relief, because as I have heard from reliable sources that hiking Elephant Hill in the rain is like licking the Devil’s balls (you get the picture).

The farmland tracks give way to a thick forest, the foliage & undergrowth impenetrable save for the hiking trail that lays before your footsteps…

It was a relief, because it was hard to miss the trail (well, while it is still daytime anyway, I can only imagine how scary it cane be when it’s dark).

Frankly, this was the easiest part of the hike; it was gentle and scenic & took about 20 (or so minutes) before the dense forest suddenly gave way to the Bamboo zone.

The Bamboo Zone is long, my friend. It winds on endlessly, like a venomous snake, poisoning your energy.

Then there is a section that has us literally bending over, our knees almost parallel to the ground.I highly suspect that this is the section that Ratia calls the stairway to heaven.

And maybe it’s a good thing the Bamboo doesn’t give a hint of high up we were going because if it did, this was the point many of us would have turned back.

It is a narrow trail through the Bamboo; murky, muddy and dark, with a little light filtering through the trees, giving this haunting sense of enchantment. (Again, I was singing silent praise songs to Ngai for holding back the clouds).

I came across the elephant footprints we had been warned about by literally having one foot after the other plunged into the deep pools of previous rain water that had collected in the holes shaped like rounded fat stalks (getting my feet out needed help from Diana – Dee, as we fondly call her & Maryam, who did help, but both nearly collapsing in fits of laughter). And maybe my muddy misfortune was as a result of not being clever enough to look where I was going, like everyone was.

Somewhere amidst the towering Bamboo, the large group had broken off and the three of us girls pretty much trailed behind, taking in the sights, sounds and scents. You’ll hear birds chirping, which really is a beautiful sound.

Dee, Maryam and I, at our sweet and slow pace ended up somewhat getting lost, with me nervously calling out to fellow hikers. The girls were relatively calm at our “getting lost”; maybe it’s because they realized that all you needed to do was follow the trail that shockingly hadn’t vanished into thin air. My moments of being panic -stricken had blinded my eyes.

After what seems like hours of plodding though the sludge and fighting the urge to just throw in the towel and turn around, the trail finally levels off and the Bamboo thins out as you get to the alpine zone, characterized by the stunning array of outlandish flora like lobelia, senecio, tussock grass, giant heather and the chill, thin wind, whistling in your ears, filtering through your nostrils.

This is why Elephant Hill is a must prep for would be climbers of Mt. Kenya & Mt. Kilimanjaro –  it is an apposite altitude test for your body.

We, the famous trio, kept on.

After a while, it did seem we had taken the wrong turn and I thought we were headed to nowhere and would probably end up falling off a cliff.

Then these two angels appeared out of nowhere.

Ezra, one of the KWS escorts who told us he had come to check on the “last ones” and another hiker (I didn’t get her name, though she was such a sweetheart). She was very encouraging; told us having done Elephant Hill before, that every person’s body adjusts at its own pace and time.

Maryam was battling altitude sickness and managed it valiantly with frequent breaks, re-hydrating and taking it slow, and we were with her every step of the way. This is why it is always sensible never to hike alone, especially if you’re a newbie, despite joining in with a group of hikers.

Having buddies with you means that you will have people who will worry enough to be patient and will wait with you and if need be, turn back with you.

Some hikers say push on. We say don’t.

Take a break and drink plenty of water.

We got first hand experience that this is the best way and we managed to make it past the alpine zone after what seemed like days of steep climbing and found ourselves at the elephant’s rump, wisely called “The Point of Despair”.

I figure “The Point of Despair” is because this is the point – after all the sweat, blood & tears, you will seriously question your state of mind, you will have a never – ending monologue, asking yourself what madness drove you this far and what the hell brought you there, to this point, in the middle of nowhere with no loo or bed in site.

Worst is the fact that it will dawn on you that the only way back to a semblance of civilization is the same way you came up: on your poor tired, sore, aching and broken – down legs.

We rested for a bit here, took out our snacks and munched. And reveled in the beauty around us. And forgot our self-inflicted predicament for a while.

I had acquired a bizarre surge of energy, so Ezra offered to be my lead to the summit.

And Ezra was fast! My managing to keep up with him was out of a sheer adrenaline rush. We made the summit under 20 minutes, which was, in my records, unbelievable.

There was a group behind us that Ezra tried to discourage saying they were too slow, the weather might change for the worst & that its dangerously rocky (as if the two of us were as hooved like mountain goats) or that by the time they would get to the middle, the lead pack of hikers will already be turning back, but unperturbed, they scolded him (Well On on Maggie & team!) and they forged on, hearts set on the summit.

The climb to the summit goes over slightly rocky terrain at an altitude of over 3500m above sea level, with the temperature dropping significantly, as you pick you way across the elephant’s back.

The trail first descents into a clamp of trees before turning back upwards out of the small valley.

It then gets infuriatingly steep as it meanders past gnarled giant heather trees adorned with spanish moss offering handholds when you need to pull yourself up the slope and then it levels off to give you your first view of the summit. Aberdares, can easily be accessed from this point.

And then, we got to this massive rock – laced edge, which we had to cut across and this is the point when my heart was literally in my throat. Ezra heroically balanced me and that AK 47 on either hand, hauling me up those rocks and boulders, laughing as he went.

And then…..

drums rolls please

the SUMMIT happened!

The WORST part of the hike, for me, was the descent. It was vile. It was horrid.

Goodness, I hated the descent. Me, who was spiraling my way up that hill like it was taking candy from a baby.

I was a slow, whiny b**ch, all the way down, crying at some points because it was TORTURE on my quads and knees. I couldn’t walk straight by the time I got to the bus.

I even had a mini negotiation with Davie that I’d pay him big money if he carried me…OK, pulled me by my hair to the bus (I made him keep up with me – poor guy)

But we finished and I managed to stretch a little and surprisingly had no pain after the hike. Even in the knees, because I thought I had completely ridden them down, my poor knees.

We got home early and I was tucked in bed at 2200hrs.

****

Truth: Hiking Elephant Hill was a beautiful experience, despite how arduous it was.

Made me question a few things about my Life and Life in general.

Hiking is a pass time that I recently took up on a fluke, being bored of my life’s monotonous, robotic routine.

I was aching for a difference, to have stories to tell…

Elephant Hill taught me it’s OK to allow yourself to not have it all figured out. You only need to know that you want to move.

That’s how it is in Life; not everything is clear cut or works out the way you want it to.

Rise above the challenges and channel your energy not into giving up, but into stepping out and not allowing yourself to get stuck in your situation.

Which means, practicing openness and being conscious to recognize that challenges exist to build you up & not to destroy you.

You will discover yourself anew during your trying times; your weaknesses and your strengths, where your energy points lie, how far you can go. Your boundaries. Your limits.

You will discover you are your own greatest motivator and champion.

It never was an unhealthy thing to be proud of yourself, to fluff your own feathers and bask in your own glory.

It’s not everyday you conquer mountains, big or small, and every grueling step you have taken in your life’s journey so far, deserves a triumphant shout from the depths of your soul – and I have learnt that, that shout is a healing to a level beyond what any other person can do for you.

Paulo Coelho:

“You drown not by falling into a river, but by staying submerged in it”.

Well, that said, wanna try a hike sometime?

Or maybe just a few more randomly selected pics from the hike will do….