Hold on to your butts ladies and gents, this is a LOOOOOONG one. I encourage you to read it, it's the full story of the trip. If you have ADD/ADHD the pictures are at the end!
“Jambo! Hello?” The greeting, which had become familiar over the last 5 days, was meant to wake us. It was appreciated, but hardly needed that night. Neither me nor my friend (and tent mate) Adam had slept a wink. That night was different from the previous mornings it had been issued. That night we set off for a summit attempt to the roof of Africa: The Uhuru Point on the summit of Mt. Kilimanjaro.
Our adventure had started 6 days earlier when 3 pairs of strangers were introduced at the Nakaru Hotel in the small, dusty, trail town of Marangu, Tanzania. Your narrator for this story is Bryan who, along with his friend Adam, had travelled from Knoxville, TN. Along on the adventure were father and son duo Fred and Rick from Carson City, NV and Simon and Michelle, a couple from London, England. We spent that first night in Marangu sharing stories, getting to know each other, and talking about the events and decisions that had led each of us to attempt a climb up Mt. Kilimanjaro.
Michelle, a hiring consultant, and Simon, a retired investment banker, had scheduled the trip at the last minute for no reason other than it seemed like a fun vacation. Most people would say “that sounds like fun?”, but I immediately knew these were my kind of people! They were a fun couple, and quite the “cheeky Brits.” Fred, a retired school principal and veteran of the Carson City school districts, had scheduled the trip as a bonding time with his son and to show that he “still had it.” Fred’s son Rick had joined his dad simply because he enjoyed high altitude adventures. Fred and Rick were the two veterans of high altitude travel. Two years ago they had done the “Three Passes” in Nepal which included Everest Base Camp. My friend Adam had decided to join me after I shared my idea and plans for the trip. Adam was often heard telling people “we’re not going on a mission trip, we’re going on an ego trip!” I found it both fitting and accurate. As for what led me to have such an idea, well, I honestly don’t remember. I long since gave up on figuring out where the idea started or how it grew to fruition. Instead I simply explained why I was doing it. Why was I doing it? Well, it’s what I do.
I would say something cliché like “the excitement and anticipation of the trip kept any of us from sleeping that night”, but truth be told, none of us could sleep that night for reasons having nothing to do with excitement or anticipation. Between paper thin walls, bugs, a town full of roosters, a bush baby, and mission bells starting at 4am, none of us got much sleep, if any. It definitely wasn’t how any of us wanted to spend our last night in a bed. Fortunately things improved quickly.
We left the next morning for the Rongai Gate to start our trek. It didn’t take long for the reality of things to set in. Now, for those that have never been on a trek before, let me describe it. You put a heavy load of gear on your back (only 20 lbs for this trip – very light), and begin walking. From there you just follow Forrest Gump’s timeless advice, “When I got tired, I slept. When I got hungry, I ate. When I had to go, you know, I went.” Throw in a wide eyed appreciation for the sights and sounds of your surroundings, and you’re trekking. This is a modest over simplification of things, but at the end of the day a trek is nothing more than putting one foot in front of the other for long periods at a time. And that’s just what we did.
The first few days along the trail were relatively easy. The winding trail took us through pine forests and scrambling over boulders. We used the abundance of oxygen to get to know our guides and how the “economy of Kilimanjaro” works. Before the Tanzania Tourism Board (TTB) overhauled the tourism market in Tanzania, trips up Mt. Kilimanjaro were a bit chaotic. Anyone that knew the path could call themselves a guide and run trips up and down the mountain. This of course caused people to get hurt, and workers to be abused. So the TTB came in and set some rules to ensure everyone was safe, and gainfully employed. I found out that our party of 6 had a support team of 30 people. There were 2 guides, 1 cook, 4 camp staff, and 23 porters. At first I was a bit dismayed at how many people it took to support such a small group. Our guide explained that the amount of gear a porter could carry was restricted “for their benefit.” As I came to realize later, it had more to do with employing as many people as possible as it did with keeping them from getting injured. I also found out that even the lowest paid person on a trekking team made twice the minimum wage. I was impressed with this, until I realized that twice the minimum wage was $4.00 a day. I suddenly wished we had a support staff of 200. It was one of many times on the trip I would have my life put into perspective.
After three days on the trail we came to our first major destination, the Mawenzi Tarn. Mawenzi is one of the three peaks of Kilimanjaro along with Shira and Kibo. We were actually able to stay down in the carter of the peak itself. One of the most beautiful sights I have ever seen is the sight of climbing out of a tent and seeing the snow covered Mawenzi Peak as the background for the camp. We stayed at Mawenzi Tarn for 2 days to acclimatize to the ~13,000 foot elevation. It was enjoyable getting to really explore an area. That’s one of my big complaints about trekking. When your goal is going from point A to point B, you often miss some of the stuff that’s not immediately noticeable. Some of the best pictures I took on this trip were at Mawenzi. Unfortunately it was here that we would lose a member of the trek.
Around 3:00 am on Thursday morning I was awakened by sounds of commotion in the camp. When I got out to see what was going on, I saw both of our guides and a number of our support crew surrounding Simon’s tent. They were putting together an oxygen chamber and placing Simon inside. Simon had not been feeling well since getting to around 10,000 feet and his condition had worsened. After speaking with him our camp doctor diagnosed him with HAPE, or high altitude pulmonary edema. In laymans terms, he had fluid on the lungs and was dying. By 4:00 am the guides had decided to do an emergency evacuation and take him back down the mountain. We later found out that after 10 straight hours he had made it down the mountain and was at the hospital recovering. The doctors said he was very lucky to be alive. We were all thankful for the good news, especially Michelle who he had insisted stay behind to finish the climb.
After a rough start to the morning, we packed up and headed out for Kibo Hut. The hike to Kibo was somber, as you can imagine. We were now a guide short and Barnabus (one of our support staff) was filling in as a guide. We walked across the Kibo boulder field where the only thing to really see was massive boulders that had been strewn across the field the last time Kilimanjaro had erupted, some 200,000 years ago. I heard Fred liken it to hiking on the moon. An accurate description if I heard any. The hike from Mawenzi to Kibo is incredibly misleading. As soon as you leave Mawenzi you can see your destination in the distance. It’s incredibly clear and, aside from the slight heat shimmer in the air, everything is visible. Despite the fact that we could see it the entire time it still took 7 plus hours to get there! About half way to our destination we came upon a “place of interest” as our guide called it. There in the middle of the boulder field, was a crashed plane.
As we walked through the wreckage of the small air craft our guide told us about the event. In November of 2008 a small turbo prop plane was giving an aerial tour of Mt. Kilimanjaro when it cut too close to Mawenzi Peak clipped its wing. The pilot had attempted to land the plane in the boulder field we were standing in at that very moment. Unfortunately he didn’t have much luck with the landing. The crash killed 4 of the 5 people on board. I’ve heard of people being “weirded out” in cemeteries before, but this was different. Cemeteries are where the dead are buried intentionally; a plane crash site is not quite the same. It was an interesting experience, but I was kind of glad when we moved on.
We eventually made it to Kibo Hut around mid-afternoon. I have to say, Kibo Hut was not one of my favorite places on the climb. The hut gets its name from the peak whose base it sits at. This is also the location from which summit attempts on the South and East sides of the mountain leave. As such all trails lead to Kibo. This made the hut much more crowded than previous camps. That is to say, it was too crowded. It made sleeping that afternoon that much more difficult. And that brings us back to where our story started.
Barnabus woke us around 11:00 pm on that Thursday night so we could have a light breakfast before setting out. Other groups from other expedition companies had already set out, and still more were milling about with the same anticipation we felt. We left the Kibo Hut around 12:04 am on Friday in the driving snow. It had started snowing that afternoon and just kept going. It gave us a nice fresh powder to hike in on our way up. Our goal was to make it to Gilman’s Point in time for sunrise. From there we would traverse around the crater rim to the Uhuru Point, our final destination. All of that is much easier said than done however. Actually maybe it’s not. Saying anything at altitudes of 15,000 feet and up is hard. Doing anything that involves using oxygen is hard at those altitudes! Our guides set the pace, and it took some getting used to. Due to the steep incline of the final push, we had to be sure not to lose our breath. A friend’s advice echoed in my head, “If you lose your breath, you won’t catch it.” The hike back and forth switch-backing our way up the mountain was slow. Extreme focus was given to breath patterns so you didn’t wear yourself out. I found myself alternating between long slow breaths, and multiple gasp breaths similar to what a woman would use while birthing. I felt silly at times, but I felt great and we were moving ahead. There wasn’t much to see at this time because it was pitch black out. The head lamps on our head didn’t illuminate much more than the immediate area in front of us. It felt like an eternity, but a short 5 ½ hours later we crested the crater rim, and were greeted with a sign welcoming us to Gilman’s Point at a height of 5,681 meters (roughly 18,638 feet).
Our guides allowed us to have an extended rest at Gilman’s Point since we had beaten the sun. The rest felt good, but way too short. Before setting out from Gilman’s Point our guides gave us an idea of what to expect next. We would traverse around the crater through the snow banks to the Uhuru Point. There we would take photos, revel in our victory, and then make our way back down. As we began making our way through the snow banks Fred raised a proverbial red flag. The altitude was beginning to get to him, and walking through snow banks was too difficult. After consulting with the guides he decided that he was going to make his way back down. He had made it up to the crater rim, and over 18,600 feet. Another 700 or so feet wasn’t going to change anything. After ensuring his son had the camera and everything he would need. He set back out for the Kibo Hut where we would meet later while the remaining four set off for Uhuru Point. Traversing around the crater rim was interesting. Not much was visible by the light of our headlamps, but it was apparent that there was a drop off to our immediate right. Occasionally you would pass foot prints in the snow that showed someone’s missteps that sent them dangerously close to careening into the darkness. It would not be until the sun was up on the trip back that we would realize just how far the darkness went. Ahead we trudged until we finally saw the sign off in the distance. It took every ounce of patience I possessed to keep from running ahead just to get there. Finally, with one last tired step we arrived at our destination. With that we found ourselves standing at 5,985 meters (19,340 feet) at the Uhuru Point on the Kibo Peak of Mt. Kilimanjaro, the tallest point on the continent of Africa, and the tallest free standing mountain in the world.
I cried. I’m not sure if it was from altitude delirium, or just emotion, but I cried. I’m also not too proud to admit it. It was a moment I consider among my most proud and will forever remember it.
After everyone came to grips with finally being there, the pictures began. We took pictures alone, we took pictures together, we took pictures of just the sign, of the clouds and (lack) of view. It was a great feeling! After twenty or so minutes of taking pictures at the sign, we began making our way down. About that time someone said “hey, the clouds are clearing” and with that, almost out of thin air, glaciers began appear in front of us. The sun had finally decided to grace us with its presence, and as it rose, the clouds began to burn off. I marveled at what the clouds had been hiding. Glaciers, snow covered boulder fields, a volcanic crater, anywhere and everywhere you looked was a view tailor made for a National Geographic film. The exposed view also enlightened us to what we had been hiking along going around the crater rim. We had been hiking on the edge of an approximately 2,000 foot edge. It was sobering at say the least, especially knowing that’s also the route we would be taking back! After getting over the edge, we took more pictures! I consider myself moderately handy with a camera, and weeks later I’m still marveling at how beautiful some of the shots I got are. It was then I understood why we had left at midnight. The experience of standing there as the sun burned off the clouds and exposed the glaciers was simply amazing. Words cannot do it justice.
After everyone had exhausted both camera battery and memory card we began making our way down the mountain. I have to say the rest of the trip was rather mundane after the experience of the summiting the mountain. Coming down was also a heck of a lot quicker than going up! In what we’d done in 5 ½ days going up, we did in 1 ½ days coming down. What they say about altitude is true. When you go from low oxygen to high oxygen, you feel like superman. Of course, maybe it was just the raw adrenaline from the summit. Who knows?
What I do know is that when we got to the welcome hut at the base of the mountain and someone handed me a cold bottle of beer, it was the greatest beer I’d ever had in my life! We sipped on the beer and bought memorial trinkets from the gift shop while waiting for our official summit certificates. Once business was taken care of we began bidding farewell to our guides and support crew. It’s customary at the end of a trip to tip your support crew in both money and gear. We bid farewell to the group leaving them with a generous tip and any spare gear we felt like leaving them. I remember asking our guide Hanington whether or not he got cold on the mountain and then giving him my fleece to keep warm. The appreciation in his face was truly touching.
After leaving the mountain we went back to the Nakaru Hotel where we met up with a very relaxed Simon. It was good seeing him alive and well. The group of strangers that had started their adventure 7 days before had bonded and become lifelong friends. No matter how old I get, I will never forget my time climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro. I hope that someone reads this story and feels inspired. If you do, I encourage you to go. I implore you to go. You will not regret it, and it will change your life. It changed mine, and I’m a better person for it.
Along the Rongai Route
Mawenzi Tarn Basecamp
Kibo Hut and Summit
Down the Mountain and Wrap
Lake Manyara National Park
Ngorongoro Crater
Tarangerie National Park
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Originally Posted by freefall
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