Before Day 3
The morning came quickly, and I was pleasantly surprised to find no rain. Breakfast was well recieved. I felt very strong and confident. I told the guide that he would have no more problems with me today. I had fixed my head. "OK, Mr. Philip, Sawa Sawa," he replied. After a quick day three before photo, we started the day's hike at eight.
With no rain, I found the walk through the boulder field quite pleasant. Trent, carrying his own pack today for some sadomasachistic reason I'll never understand, helped me pass the time by talking almost exclusively about women, friend, and family. OK, so we talked almost exclusively about women. Our only stop of any length was at the two and a half hour mark to refill our depleted water bottles.
Our four hour and thirty minute hike that day took us up "The Wedge", almost 4600m, and the air was noticably thin. The hike was very demanding, with some very, very steep almost vertical sections. But, we then descended to 3900m where we set up camp at the Baranco camp. Once again, our porters had beaten us to the site -- good for us, as tea, popcorn and roasted peanuts were waiting for us.
About halfway through the popcorn, I had an unfamiliar urge -- that big meal from the night before finally hit bottom. Never having shat in the woods before, I asked (quite tongue in cheek mind you) Trent for advice. Little did I know how complicated a shit in the woods could be: "Look for a secluded spot near some small loose boulders or rocks, make sure there is a rock nearby to steady yourself, let it rip. If possibly, burn the paper, if not hide it under the loose rocks." My mind reeling, off I went.
About 300m from our tent, I found what I thought was the ideal place -- plenty-o-loose rocks, secluded, and a nice big rock to hold onto. So I dropped trow and let rip. When I finished, I reattached my pants and went to move those loose rocks as no matches were available... Evidently, I had found a good place -- under those loose rocks were the remains of another camper's toilet paper. Disgusted yet amused, I sought out new rocks for my paper. I wasn't even all that embarassed to turn around and see another group of hikers some 200m away waving and laughing. Well, it was almost an ideal spot.
A very dense mist covered our campsite, obscuring the peak and making it very difficult to see anything. Trent and I arranged our gear in the tent just in time to escape the hardest rain yet. Thundershowers rocked us. We rested and went through the medical guide for information on altitude sickness, Diamox, and the severe stomach cramps that had been plaguing Trent all day. We were now fifteen hours of hiking into the trip -- not yet half way -- and our guide cautioned us that tomorrow would be a very difficult day, almost definitely the most demanding physical twenty-four hours of my life.
The torrential rain continued throughout the night. Lightning storms definitely worried my industrious friend who actually exited the tent into the rain to arrange our walking sticks as a makeshift lightning rod. If we got struck, the theory was that the sticks would take the brunt of the blow. After dinner (more pancakes -- yes!, macaroni, beans, and potatoes) we turned in for bed around eight. Still, the rain continued.