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February 11

Bigo Bog, To Bujuku Hut

I was awakened around 6:30 by bright orange light streaming through the window from the sunrise down the valley. I had already been up once at night, thanks to the Diamox, which is a diuretic. Clouds hung over the central Rwenzori peaks, but our camp was sunny. Richard fixed be fried eggs with onion. They were well done, as I requested. I didn't pack a new lunch today, still having food from yesterday.

The Spaniard and his porter headed back down after breakfast. If he hadn't been planning to catch the ferry across Lake Victoria to Mwanza, Tanzania on Feb. 14, he might have completed the circuit. He wasn't interested in climbing any peaks, though. He wanted to see Kilimanjaro, but not climb it.

I was then alone with my staff, which included my guide Joel, my cook Richard, my other porter, and two other porters who apparently were supporting the staff in some way. Joel and I set out first, at 8:45.

This was the day we would cross the Bigo Bogs. I was not looking forward to this, having read accounts of knee-deep mud which took hours to cross. I put on a pair of Gore-Tex socks and gaiters for extra protection. Fortunately, I found that they were now relatively dry, and crossing them would be no problem. I would not need to put on the high rubber boots I bought for these bog. We quickly arrived at lower Bigo Bog. The bogs are covered with grass tussocks which provide some dry footing. The most notable plants were the spiny purplish lobelia boquaerti, which my guide pointed out. He said there were two other kinds of lobelia as well, and he knew the latin names of each.

Joel at Bigo Bog

Across the bog, we came to Bigo Hut and its rock shelter, and rested a minute though the walking had been easy so far. There were still some spots with deep mud, but my Gore-Tex socks and gaiters were adequate. Upon leaving the bog, the trail followed a narrow valley to Upper Bigo Bog. The climb was not difficult, but the dense, thorny vegetation scratched my arms.

Upper Bigo Bog turned out to be especially beautiful, with vistas of the mountains ahead. I asked Joel to take a picture of me with my small Vivitar camera. He liked this camera, with its motorized zoom lens and automatic focus. Joel pointed out the glacier next to Elena Hut, where we would be tomorrow night. It seemed a long way up to be going in just one day. After the bogs, the trail climbed to Lake Bujuku through lush forest. There were some beautiful waterfalls and cascades along the trail here.

Upper Bigo Bog

Joel said the Rwenzoris actually get more visitors during the rainy season. This surprised me, since the walk would be much harder then, and with poorer visibility. Joel said that is because they come to see the unique vegetation, which is at its peak during the rainy season. I told Joel I was surprised how few people were here now, when the weather was mostly beautiful. He said it was an unusual year, since the war in Zaire (just across the border) had scared most tourists away. Joel said he wanted to attend a NOLS class at Mt. Kenya next month, but the $150 fee would be difficult for him, especially with so few tourists coming. He probably would have liked some help. I mentioned that I would go on to Tanzania afterward, and climb Kilimanjaro. I wasn't sure yet if I would visit Mt. Kenya.

Bujuku Lake

At the top of the hill, we met some porters, and sat briefly, but not too long because it was cold and windy now. Soon we came to Lake Bujuku, and made our way through the bogs along its bank, which were muddier than the Bigo Bogs. Whenever the clouds broke, we could see Margherita, the peak I would climb the day after tomorrow, towering high above. Margherita is the highest of three peaks on Mount Stanley, the tallest mountain in Uganda (or Zaire).

The vegetation along the lake was not as lush as I remembered from some pictures, but they may have been taken during the rainy season. Past the lake, the trail became indistinct, climbing gently through slightly boggy tussock, with the river following many paths into and out of the ground below.

Before long, we came to Bujuku Hut. Today had been an easy, four hour walk, much better than I expected. I am sure I would have gone faster on my own, but Joel's comfortable, deliberate pace was fine with me. This camp, at 13,000 feet, had two metal huts side by side. A lot of boards were strewn about, so perhaps some construction was planned. I counted at least four latrines downstream from camp, next to a garbage pit. All the camps so far had garbage pits next to the latrines. Park regulations require all garbage to be carried out, but I don't think the porters go along with that idea.

Richard cut up one of my pineapples and made a cup of Milo, which is similar to Ovaltine. Richard asked what I would like for dinner. He suggested rice again, but I wasn't thrilled with his rice yesterday, and suggested potatoes instead. I wanted him to fry them, since we had oil, but he didn't know how, so I had suggested boiling them, slicing them, and serving them with peas. He wanted to cook about a dozen potatoes, but I stopped him, and said that four of the small potatoes would be plenty. He would prepare the meal over a charcoal fire in the middle of my cabin today. I told him to watch for mice, since I had seen a couple.

It was chilly here, only in the 40's, and while Joel slept, I decided to go out for a walk. Stuhlman Pass (4160 meters) was just up the hill, and I decided to head for it. I knew Zaire was just on the other side, and that I could see into it from there. I was curious to see if I could get to the border that way.

It was very cloudy when I set out at 3:10. The route was a bit hard to find at times. I passed a large rock formation visible from camp, and made one wrong turn leading steeply up a dead end before finding the true path to the pass (just an occasional footprint, actually). I made it to the pass, and continued down the other side a way through the tussock, hoping to see where the border was. There was no more path now. I took some pictures of the view into Zaire, though it was not as impressive as the view on the Uganda side, back toward Bujuku Lake and the Rwenzori peaks. The border had to be somewhere down the hill, but I wasn't sure where. I really didn't want to encounter any rebels from Zaire. There was some light sleet as I headed back down to camp, arriving at about 4:15.

Richard said my meal was ready, though he worried that it was too early for dinner. I said it was OK to eat now, since I had eaten only the pineapple for lunch. He had cooked the potatoes and peas as I asked, and added tomatoes, onions, chile peppers, scallions, mushrooms and curry powder. He also followed my suggestion to use less salt today. The results were pretty good. He had cooked six potatoes, and I ate most of it. Richard's cooking skills are pretty basic - see what we have, and throw it all in the pot. This could get monotonous, but at least I would not go hungry, assuming he saved some food for the rest of the trek. I reminded Richard that we had three more nights. He had already served most of my fruit.

The temperature quickly dropped toward freezing after dark, and I was concerned about how well my staff, who didn't have much gear, would keep warm. I went to bed at 7:30, and soon noticed mice climbing around the shelves where Richard left the food. I rigged a rope from the ceiling and hung the food there. The Diamox I took caused me to get up again within an hour, but after that, I slept peacefully most of the night.

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