My Story by Andy Crisconi

It was a beautiful, late August morning as we started our thirteen-mile drive into Mount Kenya National Park. We were about to begin a six-day trek up Mount Kenya's Chogoria Route, when, seven miles into the drive, our jeep goes belly up in the mud. I mean, the jeep is literally rocking back and forth on its belly, with all four tires spinning in the air, splattering chunks of black mud over everything. After an hour of unsuccessfully trying to free our jeep, Moses, our six foot plus, Kenyan guide looks at me and says in a deep voice, "Andy, I think it best if you and the clients start walking. We will free the jeep, and pick you up down the road." Because it was 1:00PM on a sunny afternoon, I thought nothing of the walk. I was rather tired of driving, anyway. So, we shouldered our packs and started walking towards the "bandas" (cottages) where we were to spend the night, before officially beginning the trek the following morning. Well, the road just continued to deteriorate from there, until it became a flowing river of mud. We couldn't just walk right through this stuff, as it was knee deep in places and would have sucked the boots right off our feet. So, we began a very slow zig-zag, back and forth across the road, finding the "driest" sections to walk and grabbing onto any tree limb that would support our body weight to assist us over and around the deepest sections. All of a sudden I realized it was becoming dark. Clouds were moving in. I looked at my watch--it was already 5:00PM, and I had no idea how much further it was to the camp. We decided to pick up the pace, mud or no mud. We then realized that we only had one headlamp between the three of us, and the bulb was less than bright. By 7:00PM, we were, all three, walking by the light of one lamp. I would walk forty feet ahead, turn around, shine the light on the ground, and wait for the others to come up alongside. It was now pitch black in the Kenya jungle, it had started to rain, and there was no sign of how far we still needed to go. We had to have walked six miles by now. I was in front with the headlamp and I noticed two eyes reflecting off of the lamp light each time I turned back to shine it for the others. We had been told that leopard frequented this area. I was petrified inside, but was not going to alert the others. For the next two hours, the eyes followed us. I would not have wanted to be the last in line! Then at 9:30PM, we saw the lights of the cottages. We were cold, wet, tired, and more than ready to change clothes and dry by a fire. But, we weren't there yet. As we approached the cottages, the caretaker was nowhere to be found. We banged on several doors until, finally, a short, mild-mannered man stepped out onto his porch to welcome us. "Where have you been," he asked, "we expected you five hours ago!" A long story. He then proceeded to lead us to our cottages, to dinner, and a warm fireplace. Then, all of a sudden, he started to run, screaming, "Run, the buffalo are charging"! What the *&^%! All of sudden we noticed the ground shaking, and heard a large herd of Cape buffalo running our way. We all scattered into the pitch black, not knowing which way to go to search for a tree to hide behind. The buffalo charged past. We all regrouped--hearts pounding, but unscathed. Enough is enough already! We fell asleep to the sound of Cape buffalo snorting outside of our cottage. The next morning we awakened late, had a big, hot breakfast, and wondered if last night was a dream, or, in fact, actually did take place. After spending the night in the jungle (jeep still belly up when last seen), Moses and the remaining crew arrived at camp around 10:00AM. Moses then pulled me aside and said, "Andy, good thing you came to camp early…lots of leopard in the jungle last night!"

Andy Crisconi spends most of his time trekking and climbing throughout South Asia.