The Chief, the Co-Pilot, and a Bloody Big Mountain!
In 2005, ComeHike traded their usual hikes for something a little more extreme: Mount Kilimanjaro.
What started as a simple wish quickly snowballed into an epic, multi-week East African expedition. Twenty-two brave (or slightly unhinged) ComeHikers packed their bags for the roof of Africa.
Led by Pietie and fuelled by the boundless energy of Kasia, this group stepped way out of their comfort zones. They battled oxygen deprivation, watched lions block traffic in the Serengeti, and eventually danced until they got kicked out of a bar in Zanzibar.
More than two decades later, Pietie and Kasia look back on the raw grit, the near-disasters, and the absolute magic of the trip that turned a casual hiking group into a lifelong "Kili Family."
Pietie, what made you haul 21 club members to the roof of Africa?
You can blame Kasia for this one! She is originally from Poland, and it was her dream to climb the highest peak in Africa. So, naturally, I found myself leading a small army up a massive volcano.
How did you keep everyone motivated when the exhaustion kicked in?
You have to remember that back in 2005, an expedition like this was uncharted territory for our club. Today, there’s endless information available online, but back then, we were stepping into the unknown. To prepare, we held countless meetings with Kili veterans just to piece together what we were getting into. The buzz was so big that we even had external people join our sessions to listen to the advice because they were planning their own climbs outside of our club!
For training, we marched everyone up our local mountains until they were sick of it. Luckily, we booked through a fantastic company, Tribe Safari. They arranged the guides and support, which was an absolute lifesaver. That combination worked like magic.
Leading a group on a mountain you’ve never climbed before must have been terrifying?
It makes you feel incredibly vulnerable. Before we even left South Africa, we laid down a brutal ground rule for the couples: “Decide now what happens if one of you has to turn back. Does the other partner stay or go?” It sounds dramatic, but it actually happened. One couple had a rough time when the guy had to go down and his lady decided she was going to the top anyway! Earlier, on day three, another lady fell ill and had to turn back.
In the end, 17 out of 22 made it to the top. As a leader, managing those numbers is tough, but the guides knew exactly what they were doing.
What happens when altitude sickness hits?
The mountain turns into a psychological experiment. For summit night, you’re only allowed two to three hours of sleep. You are so violently overtired that your brain convinces you that you cannot sleep, right before you completely pass out. At one point, a guy sharing a tent with one of our female hikers poked his head out and told me she wasn't doing well. I rushed to get the guides. They packed her gear in a flash, threw her onto their backs, and started the descent within 15 minutes of checking in on her!
The rest of us pushed on and summited. On our way back down, we crossed paths with her, and she was perfectly fine! Looking back, maybe I was completely crazy to organize this. I was technically the leader, but up there, you know the guides are the ones running the show.
Tell us about how the group stepped up to help each other.
I remember checking on Pat and Gerard De La Hogue. Gerard was 64—the oldest in our group—and he was suffering. His backpack looked like it was trying to crush him into the dirt. We immediately split his load among the group and made a tactical decision: we put Gerard right at the front to set the pace. From that day on, Gerard became 'Papa Chief', Pat was 'Mama Chief', and I was just 'The Chief.'
When did it finally hit you that you weren't on Table Mountain anymore?
Well, we arrived at the base in pitch darkness, so our first view of the mountain was the next morning. Waking up to see a peak that looked like Table Mountain multiplied by five—and covered in snow—was a total system shock.
When you’re trekking up pole pole (slowly, slowly) and you finally hit the summit, you literally have to force your brain to register what is happening. The scenery changes daily. You start in a lush, sweaty rainforest, march through alpine desert with zero plants, scramble up loose gravel scree, and then hit pure, biting ice just before the top. It is a total "wow" experience.
What is the one memory that still flashes back to you from that peak?
Just pure, unadulterated relief: I’ve actually done it! It is amazing what that bloody mountain does to your head. There is a famous milestone called Stella Point. To put it in Cape Town terms, it’s like reaching the top of Platteklip Gorge and looking over at Maclear's Beacon. It doesn’t look far on paper, but at that altitude, that final stretch is a brutal, agonizing grind.
Kasia, how did you keep things fun when people were physically struggling?
Our main job was damage control and morale! We checked in with everyone daily to handle queries, calm nerves, and cheer people up when they wanted to quit.
We also had a secret weapon: Louis Seyfried. He was incredible. When you are that exhausted and oxygen-deprived, you literally lose the ability to think straight. People would be wandering around frozen, with their jacket zips wide open, completely oblivious. Louis would walk around the camp like a worried mother, zipping people up and making sure everyone was warm enough.
What was the vibe shift like when you moved from the bleak rocks to the Safari?
Oh, absolutely electric! Everyone was on a massive high because the hardest part was behind us. The six-day safari was spectacular. We got to watch the local Maasai doing their famous jumping dances, which was incredible.
The moment we drove into the Serengeti, a whole pride of lions was casually blocking the road like a furry tollgate. At Lake Manyara, we saw elephants and hippos splashing in the water while lions were literally chilling up in the trees. The Ngorongoro Crater felt like stepping into a magical, prehistoric world.
Zanzibar was the grand finale. How good did it feel to ditch the hiking boots?
Zanzibar was pure bliss. Everyone split up to do their own thing—some went swimming with dolphins, others went on the spice tour.
We spent four glorious days there. Our finest moment was at the Africa House Mercury Bar, where we danced so hard and for so long that the staff eventually chucked us out! The live band invited our group up on stage, and the entire ComeHike crew joined in. We completely took over the venue.
It’s been over 20 years. How did that trip shape things for the team?
We became a "Kili Family" for life. For years afterward, we held reunions and get-togethers. Even to this day, whenever we get together, “that bloody mountain” always comes up!
