Kilimanjaro
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Day 6: To Summit
8 billion miles to 19,000+ ft. - forever and a day
We can never describe in words how difficult it is to move and to breathe as you gain altitude at this point. Several times during the night, we would reach a point where I felt if I kept breathing as deep as I was, I would still suffocate. This happened three times as we ascended but the feeling would subside to a partially asthmatic feeling where you know it is uncomfortable but survivable.
We moved at a snail's pace. One step for a breath in and a breath out. Move the next foot while breathing in, then breathe out when the foot hits the ground. "Pole pole" - slowly slowly.
After having been sick 4 out of the 5 days on the mountain, only our camp coordinator and guide Walter probably believed I would make it to the top. We hope he bet money on this and won big. We think he bet money because he carried my daypack and handed me my water bottle along the way. He helped me adjust my poles and mittens as we kept walking. Other group-mates had their own person to help them along, holding their camel backs while they drank from them; adding or removing a hat, but my personal guide for the morning was Walter. Bill had help from Benson, who we give all the credit in the world for getting up to the crater rim. He was phenomenal. It was like being a little kid and your only job is to keep moving forward while someone else monitors your state and adjusts you when neccessary. They reminded us you can cry and hike at the same time. No excuses for whimping out; they were focused on helping us succeed.
It felt like walking in a dream. The sky felt so close that in a few more steps I could touch the stars. I could make out the edge of the land above and it felt like I could reach out and touch it. It was like being in a planetarium where the edge of the rock was the sides of the seating area and the stars were little bulbs in the ceiling. The city lights down below looked like a miniature display made for a Disney ride like Peter Pan's Flight. Nothing felt as what it was.
As the sun started to rise, we were very behind schedule which was routine for this group. Thank you Diala, we will never forget you or your sequined climbing apparel. We stopped to see the sun rise over a smaller peak named Mawenzi Peak and to take a few photos and drink some water. The air finally started to warm up.
People ask if it was cold on this day. For us the answer is no. If you live in a place like Michigan or Vermont, this is not colder than that; it is what you may be used to on a warmer winter day. If you are from Texas or Florida, you may not be as comfortable as your northern cousins.
I wore a thin long sleeved polypro shirt, a thin Bergoline top, a thin fleece, and then my regular fleece pullover. I did not wear my jacket and I have been far more bundled for ice climbing in New Hampshire than this required. Of course for the first three days I wore a tank top and occasionally put a shirt on over that in the mist. I only wore my rain jacket once for about 20 minutes. If you hike this and a tank top does not work for you on the first few days I would bet you should dress warmer than I did for the summit or you will be cold.
Very little snow exists up here. A few patches of white in one area against the black rocks took me by surprise. I had to ask one of the guides if it was snow or toilet paper thrown all over the rocks by careless tourists like in Yosemite. it was little patches and lines of white all over. He assured me it was snow and even brought a rock over with the flakes on it for my close inspection. I had to laugh - kind of like a little kid seeing snow for the first time, inspecting each flake for authenticity. I had to resist tasting it though!
So if you are wondering if any of us made it, the answer was an astounding yes for all nine people on the trip. Making it means that you make it to the crater rim. There are a lot of people who never make it that far. Even with the health considerations in our group: a diabetic, one guy was 67 years old, I had been very sick for 4 days leading up to it, we all actually succeeded. It is very unusual to have an entire group achieve this - we were pretty special. maybe we were all so lame that no one wanted to quit because others people with harsher problems kept going, or maybe it was the phenomenal support of the A&K staff who cared for us and encouraged us throughout. The never let us quit. or actually when I did quit each of the 5 days, they made me continue anyway.
From that point you can see the sign marking the top. Some people opt to make the trek for the photo op, others decide to sit, relax, or return to the camp at that point. the decision is pretty personal at that point and there are no right answers. Of course the photographic opportunities along the ridge to the sign were too tempting so if you had wondered where the trail ended for me, you do not have to wonder any longer.
Getting the photo of myself was a little challenging unfortunately. When I finally made it to the sign, I waited in line like everyone else and when it was my turn, I asked Kira (Diala's pal) if she would not mind taking my photo. Her response was "As a matter of fact I would mind". At that point I decided that even though I had defended those two to the rest of the group all week, I had officially retired from that position. For once everyone else was right and I was wrong.
I was soon rescued by Moses who found a volunteer - another A&K representative to snap my photo. He, Walter, and Remid then posed with me and after 4 minutes of interruptions from Kira who wanted the guys to look at her shoes (I know it was 4 minutes because I had to restart my camera for the volunteer photographer 4 times due to the 1 minute time out shut off feature) we finally were able to get the photo taken. Ah, group tours!
Day 6 still: To Barafu
The hike back to Barafu was several hours, but due to the loose sands and rock Moses and I skied down the slopes on the heels of our boots. It was actually pretty fun, and you end up with a layer of dust on your clothes that will never completely come out.
The only other event worth mentioning was my test of humanity when I saw Diala wander off into a valley that was not on the way back to camp. The temptation of letting her wander off forever was a true temptation, but I hollered to her to stop. She turned, acknowledged, and then decided she did not care and kept on down into the wrong valley. Poor Moses had to run ahead (not easy at 17,000 ft) to catch her and bring her back up the slope to the turn off to camp. I hiked on ahead and caught up with Cathy and Walter and was able to get back with them.
About a mile from camp, my own strongman met me to walk with me back to camp, like he had at all other camps. We all joked and said that at the first camp they met us a few yards from the tent, the next day it was a quarter mile, the next day it was a half mile, and they kept walking further out to meet us each day because we were so sorry and so slow.
Down to Barafu again from the summit, we were promised a nap that never occurred. Instead we made it in just in time for lunch and on again down to the next camp: Mweka. The hike down was a few hours more. I joined the 'early group' which consisted of the invalids that had been 'evacuated', i.e. had been brought down with assistance from the summit. A later group would follow after Diala's nap.
Day 6 still: To Mweka
Most of the trail was misty and then a slight rain along the rocky slope. Eventually we came into new scenery that was at least refreshing, but no one was overjoyed to have to continue walking after such a long day.
Finally we had dinner - chicken in peanut sauce over rice - man I love the cooks! There was a lot of other food and treats, but the peanut sauce - oh one of my favorites in life - and we were having it as our last supper on the mountain. And like tradition, we retired to our cots that were slightly downhill for the all night slide, but who could complain?
Day 7: To the End
Our final breakfast was with Cathy and 'the good doctor' as I called P. Kay, another person we were happy to have met on this trip. Scrambled eggs and exhaustion. Talk that some day we will have the energy to be exhilarated about what we had just done.
The hike out was short and sweet. Kira and Diala went off on their own, the first day we did not sit around waiting for them. It was nice to be far from them and their huge cloud of perfume - we think they brought several bottles to chose from. Bill and I went off with Cathy who was one of our group-mates that we had the most in common with. We took it slow, and only stopped briefly for a few photos. You know you are getting to the end when you see kids on the trail begging for chocolate or money. Handing out to the children is strongly discouraged as it promotes truancy and a behaviour that you would probably try to stop your own children from participating in.
We finally arrived at the station where you register for the last time. Your guide will let the station manager know who made it how far, and certificates are created for each person who made it to the rim. We thought this was where we would be picked up, but alas we still had some hiking remaining due to the road being dug out so they could put in some type of duct work.
When we were collected in the range rover, the entire world gathered around the vehicle trying to sell us carved items and beaded bracelets. Just in case you brought money to shop with. Some people on the trip bought crafts at this point but we decided to wait until we got back into town and showered and departed on the 'shopping trip' that Moses promised us. Ironically on the way home we stopped on the side of the road for Diala to run a (not so) quick errand, but at least I got a nice photo of a local set of shops (see above).
Day 7: Shopping Center
Not knowing where this actually goes on this site, I figured I would put a note here. In case you go on this trip, this is helpful information if you want to bring gifts home. We thought we would shop in the city in an open air market, but what the tours to (or at least A&K does is they bring you to a gated shop that has all sorts of items from Tanzenite to wooden carvings to batik. The place has very few items marked with a price. Most are marked with a code. That was our first problem.
Our second problem is that in case you have not guessed this already, we are in a very different income bracket than our fellow travelers. It took us years to save and plan, whereas others on the trip joined in spontaneously (except Cathy who was in out boat). Tiny wooden carvings at $5 each at this place are $2 at the airport to give you some reference.
I bought a tiny carved animal for my aunt who teaches special ed at a parochial school so she could show the students something they could put their hands when they learn about the far away place called Tanzania. We also liked a painting (8x10) which was incredibly gorgeous, the color, the texture... but the guy who follows us around the shop said (after looking at the code) it was $180, which was fine except that was more money than we even had total between the two of us. After a while the price went down to $120 which was surprising since that was exactly what we had (can they x-ray our pockets?) minus about 5 Euros and a few fives in our luggage back at the hotel.
So our co-travelers walked out with tanzenite jewelry, statures, and others delightful items that we could only envy. Unfortunately this shop was the only place we stopped and anything more to be purchased would have to be at the airport. So after some negotiating, we got the darned painting. A happy, expensive ending. Who can put a price on original art? We will never regret having one special souvenir. Maybe in a few months we can afford to frame it!
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Last updated: February 6, 2005