Kilimanjaro - Day 4 Continues Onto Day 5: Summit!
Trip Start
Feb 06, 2008
1
10
23
Trip End
Mar 03, 2008
Kilimanjaro,
Tanzania
Thursday, February 14, 2008
We were led by Godlisten and our assistant guide, Nyambo. In preparation for the chilling winds and as protection against dreaded frostbite we each wore the following:
Upper Body
* Long sleeve shirt
* Icebreaker Bodyfit260 longsleeve
* Icebreaker Sport320 sweater
* Icebreaker Luna/Landa jacket
* Puffy 700 fill down jacket
* Goretex shell jacket
* Backpack with 4 litres of water in Camelbak holders
Lower Body
* Icebreaker Bodyfit260 longjohns
* Fleece pants
* Goretex pants
* Gaiters
Head
* Toque
* Balaclava
Hands
* Liner gloves
* Thick over gloves rated to minus 20 C
* Chemical hand warmers
Feet
* Liner socks
* Merino wool socks
* Chemical toe warmers
* Hiking boots
Steps from our tent we started to overheat. We shed our liner gloves and our fleece jackets. We set off on a steady pace determined to summit. Our tents were set up the farthest from the base of the ascent so it took us an hour to get to the start. When we hit the base we were in good spirits because Godlisten told us that it would be four and a half hours from the base to Stella Point. We knew that the ascent flattened out after Stella Point so in our minds reaching the Point meant we would be able to reach Uhuru Peak--the roof of Africa. After a short rest we attacked the ascent with quiet determination. Soon after leaving the base we encountered our first defeated climber. He told us that his legs had stopped listening to his brain. His guide consoled him by saying his life was worth more than the mountain. We voiced our words of encouragement and continued on.
We felt strong for the first couple of hours of the ascent. We hit the halfway point between Barafu Camp and Stella Point at 3 am--good time. Our exterior bravado hid the quiet discontent and dread we both felt as we began to feel the approaching signs of altitude sickness. Mel kept yawning and popping her ears to relieve the mounting pressure. Paul started to feel a bit nauseous. For each other's benefit we didn't let on about our growing discomfort. We wanted to be strong for each other.
We would allow what felt like a good distance to pass before periodically asking Godlisten for an update on timing. We were flattened when at two different points in time, about 45 minutes apart, he told us that it was still two and a half hours to Stella Point. Was he playing mental tricks on us? Did he not want us to summit so that he could turn back as well? It felt like all we had was each other and God. We cried out to God for strength and we kept encouraging each other with silent fist pumps.
The ascent was a challenge to us on every level--physical, mental, emotional and spiritual. It was one pole plant and one toe drag at a time. We started to become listless--a dangerous condition in a place where one lazy step would lead you off the edge.
Looking up the dizzy heights would only give you a sharp foretaste of the next minute's hell. The ascent was so steep you couldn't tell what were stars and what were the other trekkers' head lamps. The cold comfort of keeping your eyes down only to concentrate on the next step was our only relief from the thoughts of the stupidity to come.
Our Camelbaks iced up. Even our insulated cold weather Camelbaks called it a day. With no water, utter exhaustion started to stalk us. At one of our rest breaks, Paul didn't have the energy to get off his rock and pass Mel an Advil, even though she was literally two steps away. Godlisten had to come over and walk the two steps to deliver the pill to Mel.
Our still strong minds chased our weakening bodies ever up and up. We finally crested and reached Stella Point. Paul sat down in surrender. His lips had turned an evil looking blue from the cold, but he couldn't cover his mouth with his balaclava because he needed his mouth to suck in extra oxygen. Godlisten surveyed our condition and gave us the choice to continue to trek to the summit or to use our last remaining energy to go down. In not too subtle terms he suggested we should probably turn back and warned us that if we lost our legs the situation could get dangerous. The summit was our goal. Turning back with that goal in close sight would be a stinging disappointment. Against everyone's better judgment we pushed on.
We stopped to take a picture of Stella Point just in case we didn't make it to the summit and in the few seconds our camera was exposed to the icy whipping winds, our camera battery died.
We headed off along the ridge for the last hour and ten minutes to Uhuru Peak. On the way there, we encountered incapacitated trekkers who were literally being dragged up the peak by a guide on each side. We were happy to be on our own power (barely). As we passed the returning conquerors we searched their faces for any signs of encouragement and information. They would voice their tired exhortations--close, almost there, keep moving. We moved on with a sense of passing envy.
The day was clear and bright with the light being magnified by the glaciers and the high altitude. Pole by pole, step by step, our minds dragged our broken bodies up the last few metres. When we finally saw the summit sign, our footsteps became inextricably lighter as the end was in sight. When we reached it, we held each other and cried.
Our camera made a miraculous recovery in the warmth of Paul's pocket with the aid of a chemical handwarmer. We took our celebratory pictures, sent an email to our family and friends, and in the headiness of our accomplishment, we didn't feel our exhaustion and even jumped for some silly pictures. We admired the view and the glaciers--a "mountaintop experience" on a mountaintop.
After the mountaintop we faced the bleak reality of getting down. Godlisten broke the offensive news that the way we came up was the same way down. Where the #$@! was the snack bar and gondola down? We now realized what Godlisten had been warning us about. The strains of getting to the top had ripped from us all our energy. We were dehydrated and nearly catatonic from lack of mental, emotional and physical strength. The scree had been frozen on the way up and so it provided solid ground. The sun had now melted the scree which became like loose chocolate cake crumble. The way down would require more energy and care than coming up. Godlisten and Nyambo saved our lives. They took us by our arms and led us off the summit. At every rest stop our bodies wanted to retreat into sleep. Godlisten kept us moving. Our thoughts disappeared into a void. The descent was a mindless, stumbling ordeal that would not end. The distance and steepness that had been hidden in the comforting ignorance that darkness brings was now painfully illuminated in the brightness of day--it was crushingly far.
It was a Valentine's Day unlike any other. In the heavenly "comfort" of our tent with no energy to do anything but lie next to each other, we gave thanks for the wise providence that had granted each of us a helper and friend of such perfect complement.
