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I Poached the White Elephant High over Hemingway's Africa, our hero discovered a last epic feat somehow still undone. Going where no man has ever bothered to go before, he vowed to become the first person to descend Mount Kilimanjaro on a pair of stubby Kneissel Big Foot snowboards. Never mind that it was illegal, and basically insane. By Eric Hansen
My mission came in a dream, that fertile interior space where all voluptuous revelations are made known. A waifish angel in a nightgown whispered to me, her voice soft, like a vesper, then alarmingly loud, like a longshoreman: "Ki-li-man-jaro. Kili-man-jaro. KILIMANJARO!" I awoke sweaty and feverish. I knew at once what I had to do, sure as a river knows gravity: I must make a pioneering descent. I must conquer Mount Kilimanjaro on miniature skis. It was all so clear. I would be the first person to skiboard Kili...the first person to skiboard one of the Seven Summits...the first person to skiboard above 19,000 feet...without supplemental oxygen! Of course, as they say in the Amazon, every great hunter must first clean the pit toilet. Or something like that. So I went about the business of getting my expedition into gear. Thankfully, the postmodern adventurer can travel light: no pressure to expand the empire by dint of discovery, no scientific assignment to test the limits of human or technological power, no dorky pith helmets to wear. My goal was simple: I would seek entry into the Guinness Book of World Records. Two days before departing, I ripped open a FedEx package and beheld my loaner pair of skiboards—two stubby 18-inch-long "skis" with edges like metal rulers and bindings like coat hangers. They were the Big Foot model, made by Kneissl in the eighties, with tips cut to resemble five separate toes, each little piggy painted pink. I held them aloft, closed my eyes, turned my face to the heavens, and exhaled a breathy YES! Then I opened my eyes and noticed that I was holding two left Feet. I took it as a good omen, especially since I had never skiboarded before. There was just one last detail before I set off: Kilimanjaro National Park prohibits all forms of recreation other than hiking. Stephen Koch—who had laid the first snowboard tracks on Kilimanjaro in his quest to board the highest mountain on each continent—appeared to be the expert on this, having snuck to the summit twice. "I wouldn't even try to get official permission," Koch insisted. "When I met the director general of the park, he said, 'No pleasure devices.'" Koch suggested I follow his way, the unpopular Umbwe Route, which weaves down an ice cliff. No, thanks. I figured I'd sneak in my turns, but let the unsuspecting folks at Park East, my deluxe U.S.-based tour operator, choose the approach.
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