What do you do for a challenge after having climbed Kilimanjaro (see story "Kili Safari for one") [1]? Well, of course, Kili is only a dormant volcano. There is, I learned from a Dutch tourist at the end of the Kili climb, an active volcano in the Rift Valley only a hundred kilometres away, which can be climbed in a day. He had done it a week before. “What is it like – can you actually see the lava”, I asked him, already hooked.

[2]

Pat with our Maasai guide, Ntakawa, and the active volcano in the far background

Latest news: At the beginning of April 2006, the volcano erupted again, forcing thousands of villagers to flee their homes. Fortunately, there was no reported loss of life.

Well, according to the Dutch climber, you could only hear some lava noises and perhaps see a faint reddish glow if you arrive at night. I was assured that this mountain, called Oldoinyo Lengai (Mountain of God) by the Maasai, was nevertheless awesome. He said that the climb was technically more difficult and steeper than Kilimanjaro, but because of the lower altitude, you don't have the Mountain Sickness problems and lack of oxygen. He should know – he passed out – unconscious – three times on the night of the final ascent of Kili.

The trip to Oldoinyo Lengai, although only 100 km from Kili as the crow flies (and there were plenty of crows en-route), took two days and about 300 km and over the extremely rough, dusty and remote dirt roads. This was definitely one of those trips where the journey to the destination was as interesting and arduous as the destination itself! The volcano was quite close to Lake Natron on the Kenya border, which we wanted to visit in any case, with the hope of mass flamingo viewing. The route involved skirting along the beautiful Rift Valley wall and we had no shortage of dust and cows along the way!

[3]

Dust and Cows

We had stopped for lunch in the middle of nowhere on the second day – in sight of Oldoinyo Lengai. As we pulled away after finishing our meal (if you can call a peanut butter sandwich a meal) there was a massive explosion from the engine compartment and steam came pouring out – just like an active volcano! Pat and I looked at each other and rolled our eyes. Of course, I switched the engine off instantly. My heart sank and I got that sick, hollow feeling in my stomach. My bowels wanted to empty. I wished we were anywhere other than in a remote part of the Rift Valley.

[4]

Investigating the Explosion

Time to investigate. Well, there was liquid all over the engine, and on the spot forensic analysis clearly indicated the pipe it had erupted from, which looked like it was pinched. It was suspiciously close to a moving belt, so I decided to use a plastic tie to pull it clear. A check of the radiator and other fluid levels showed nothing untoward. Oil levels fine. Very strange indeed. Mountain of God, they say ? After twisting my neck into the hot recesses of the engine, I noted that the pipe was not leading to the radiator, but rather near the radiator, so might actually be related to the air-conditioning. What else could we do, but try to drive on and closely monitor engine temperature? We set off again, nervously.

Everything seemed fine ... except, both to our dismay and relief, the air conditioning! We could at least continue without aircon, rather than a damaged engine! Remember of course that we were in the Rift Valley, almost on the equator, so it was very hot indeed. The road consisted of a fine, photocopy-toner-like dust that penetrated everywhere and in fact seemed to climb up the windows and hang on like a living thing. The heat gave us no choice but to periodically open the windows to let in a bit of of a breeze and a lot of dust! (Aside: we were unable to repair the aircon, despite visiting two Toyota dealerships, one in Mwanza, Tanzania and the other in Kigali, Rwanda. Eventually, 3 weeks later, the Kamapala, Uganda dealership effected an "emergency" repair which is still working more than 6 months later).

[5]

The road to Lake Natron

The road got worse. The dust and heat intensified. Finally, we painstakingly and nervously crossed a boulder-strewn river, flowing quite strongly, to arrive near Lake Natron. We were not sure what we would find in the way of accommodation, since we had received conflicting information from other travellers and the only Internet resources pointed to a very expensive Lodge, which would be way beyond our budget limitations. We were very relieved to arrive intact, but extremely dusty at one of three available campsites. Not wanting to waste time or opportunity, we decided the next day to go on a midday walk to view the thousands of flamingoes. We had filled our water bottles with local water, which turned out to be too salty for Pat's constitution. As a result she had a wretched time, vomiting up any water she tried to drink. She was close to severe heatstroke by the time we got back to camp where she could recover in a cold shower – and rehydrate on some decent water – at US$ 5 per bottle.

[6]

Flamingoes on Lake Natron

Anyway, back to the main story. We arranged with our guide to climb the volcano that night. We would leave camp at 11 pm, so that we could drive to the foot of the volcano by midnight, to arrive at the top as dawn was breaking – exactly as we did with Kilimanjaro. I was most impressed by the photograph in the bar of the Lodge showing the first eruption of Oldoinyo Lengai in 1966, when it spewed lava and ash more than one and a half kilometres into the sky – almost the same height as the mountain, causing deaths of countless people and cattle. The social and physical damage must have been devastating, especially since the Maasai absolutely worship their cattle. The most recent large eruption was in 1993, though not quite on such a spectacular scale.

[7]

The Eruption of 1966

At 11 pm sharp the four of us (Pat and I, the guard and the guide) gathered, squeezed into our zebra vehicle and set off towards the mountain. We followed a rugged trail in pitch darkness which required a very serious donga (soil erosion ditch) crossing. To everybody's amazement and relief, the vehicle handled that obstacle fine. At one stage a nightjar flew onto our windscreen, obviously disorientated by the midnight headlights and stayed perched there for quite a few kilometres. The last bit of the drive to the foot of the volcano was extremely steep and it was only after a few attempts, a bit a road-building and a lot of momentum that we got up the final slope to the relatively flat area suitable to pitch the roof-tent. The guide and guard were suitably impressed that the vehicle had made it that far (“this car is very strong”). Pat would sleep in the roof-tent at the foot of the volcano, protected by our trusty Maasai warrior, Ntakawa (Boniface to us Mzungus), armed with bow and arrow, spear and machette. The vehicle and tent were on a serious slope and there was a bitterly cold – almost gale-force – wind blowing. Pat was going to get little sleep that night.

The Maasai believe that God lives in this mountain and hold it sacred, so I felt very privileged to be allowed to climb it. It was a very steep slope and the surface, like Kili, consisted of volcanic scree, which meant climbing three steps up, followed by sliding down again for two steps. Unlike Kili, it did not flatten out at all, just kept on going straight up ... hour after hour, step after step, until we were eventually close to the top. There is no easy way up and there is no option of a ski-lift or mechanical aid. If you want to see Oldoinyo Lengai, you have to climb it, that's that! I was glad that my knees were not yet completely buggered by age. My guide warned me not to stray off the path, because there is a very steep drop on either side. I looked down the sides and on this moonless night could see nothing but endless darkness. The next morning, during the descent, I was shocked to see how treacherous the fall could have been down the deep grooves between the ancient lava flows.

About halfway up I started noticing a very bad smell – like a cross between a fireworks party and a boiled egg food fight! I thought to myself: “If that's what the Maasai God smells like, they must have a pretty pongy Pope”. You can simulate the effect in the comfort of your own home – preferably in the kitchen – by running around the kitchen a few thousand times to get the muscles aching, then mashing a boiled egg and finally striking a whole box a matches simultaneously above it. Breathe in deeply. Close your eyes and pretend you are at the top of Oldoinyo Lengai!

[8]

The final scramble was to prove steep and terrifying

My guide eventually indicated that we had done so well in the climb (“You are strong” - yes flattery will get you everywhere) that we were forced to take an hour's rest, lest we summit before dawn, when it would be very cold. My guide promptly fell asleep in his thin Maasai cloth, whilst I put on all available clothing, gloves and “beanie” hat to try to keep warm.

Anticipation was building ... we were ready for the final stretch. After a terrifying, vertigo-inducing scramble, we reached “the top”. It was eerie to see and feel the steam and gas seeping out everywhere. The place felt very much alive. Every minute or so there would be a huge roar and rumbling and rocks and smoke would come hurtling out into the air from a nearby cone.

[9]

It was like being on a different planet, even though you are almost at the heart of Mother Earth. There was gas and heat everywhere, even underfoot.

My guide called out to me: “Come quickly – look ”. I was surprised to hear him talking with another man. Who else could be up here? I was introduced to Fred, an American amateur volcanologist who had been living on the mountain for the past month. He said that, about five days ago, the volcano had suddenly become a lot more active. He had had to move his tent, which up to then had been nearby, to a spot about a kilometre away. He excitedly pointed out a large lava pool which had recently formed. It was spectacular and quite frightening to watch it bubbling away. Even more frightening to watch when I asked Fred what the ground had looked like before the lava pool had formed. “Oh, it looked just like the piece of ground you're standing on now.” he replied – and it was obvious from his tone of voice that he was being serious.

[10]

Standing near the recently formed lava pool. Notice the small eruption occurring on the peak to the right

All this time our thoughts and conversation were constantly punctuated by the roar and rumbling of rocks hurtling from the nearby conical peak. The lava pool bubbled away, sometimes sending fingers of of lava a few metres into the air. Fred explained that, at about 500° C, this particular type of lava is relatively cool, but what makes it quite dangerous is that is is the fastest (most liquid) of the lavas – definitely too fast to run away from.

[11]

The lava pool in action, with dawn breaking behind it

The frequency of rock eruptions from the nearby cone increased and Fred warned us to be ready to run at any moment. I asked him in which direction we should run. He replied: “Well, it depends what the volcano does”. Hmmm, I thought and decided out loud “In that case Fred, I think I'll just follow you – you're the expert!”

By now my guide was either getting nervous or bored and after “testing” the lava with our walking sticks, we decided to start heading down

[12]

“Testing” the lava with our walking sticks

We paused to see Mount Meru and Mount Kilimanjaro in the distance. I had to look for about a minute before I could make out the peak where had I stood barely a week before at the highest point of Africa. This experience had been equally thrilling. I looked two kilometres down over the Rift Valley and across Lake Natron into Kenya. The view was indescribably beautiful and I felt extremely grateful to my body for having been able to carry me up here and to the Mountain of God for having put on such a great performance for us that day.

[13]

The exhilarating view of the Rift Valley and Lake Natron from the top of Oldoinyo Lengai

Visit Frederick A. Belton's web site (follow this link to OL DOINYO LENGAI) [14] for lots more information and great pictures. Fred is the volcanologist I met during my visit. This picture of the newly formed vent T58C ("Charging Rhino") was taken just 4 days before I visited: