Day 8 (Pt 1) - The godforsaken main course...Uhuru Peak!

Ascent - School Hut Camp to Uhuru Peak
Ascent: Distance to summit: 5.4 km; Altitude gained: 1,173m (3,848 ft)

School Hut Camp: 4722m (15,492 ft)
Hans Meyer Cave: 5243m (17,201 ft)
Gillman's Point: 5708m (18,727 ft)
Uhuru Peak: 5895m (19,341 ft)


Amazingly enough and despite less than 4 hours of sleep, when our wake up call came around 11 PM, I woke up feeling fairly refreshed.  Although in reality, it was probably pure adrenaline and nerves that were making me giddy.  The wet weather that had damped our acclimatization hike earlier that day had passed and now there was nothing but a clear sky filled with more stars than I could even imagine above our heads, beckoning us onwards towards the heavens.  Joshua had warned us though - a clear sky meant for colder temperatures and this seemed to be true (not that I have any basis for comparison).  After 30 minutes of prep time in the tent, brushing teeth and using the toilet tent, everyone headed to the mess tent for a light "breakfast" of sorts. There was some brief chatter over breakfast, but everyone's mind was only on the summit and poor Catherine had barely slept a wink.  We ate our porridge and prepared our water and packs in silence, which seemed appropriate in the solitude of the night on a remote mountain in the middle of Africa.



Around midnight, we started to gather outside the tents: Catherine, Ed, Imogen, Olivia and myself along with Joshua, Felix, Patrick and our two summit porters who would be assisting us up the mountain.  As the slowest of the climbers, I would be leading the group up and everyone would follow my pace.  In just moments we would begin our 'assault' on the mountain, though in many ways it was more a matter of the mountain assaulting us.

Me, Imogen, Ed and Olivia making the slow climb.

The night was freezing.  It was barely tolerable when we were moving and exerting all our effort towards each step, but the moment we stopped, we would shiver and start to freeze.  Thankfully, I had ignored the advice of the guides and dressed myself in my capilene 3 base layer, winter hiking pants and insulated waterproof pants, which kept my bottom half fairly comfortable (I was advised against the insulated pants for fear I'd overheat).  For top layers, I recall wearing a capilene 3 base layer, long-sleeve wicking layer, Penn State t-shirt (for photo op at the top with Olivia, a fellow alumna), fleece, down jacket and water proof shell and backpack on my back and yet I still shivered with a chilly core. On my head was my fleece hood, wool ear-flap hat, thermal headband and waterproof/windproof jacket hood.  My head still froze.  I should have worn the balaclava which I had forgotten about until we were half-way to the summit.  On my hands: glove liners, hand warmers, mid-weight gloves and heavy duty down ascent gloves from EMS.  My hands were like icicles.  The hand warmers didn't work well due to the lack of oxygen at these altitudes.  They took forever to warm up and even when they did, it must have provided less than half the usual warmth.

After what seemed like hours of back and forth switchbacks over a rocky trail, we arrived at our first real milestone: the junction of the Kibo Huts trail (5174 m) where the climbers ascending via the popular Marangu route would be meeting up with us.  We were told that we were making good progress but I have no recollection of what time it was when we arrived.  From this junction, we could look directly up the steep slope of scree and see a string of headlamps against the contrasting night sky, zigzagging its way up the mountain.  It was a bit of an eerie scene, watching these little lights make their pilgrimage up the mountain in silence.  For the most part though, I had very little sense of my surroundings.  It took all my focus just to motivate myself to continue moving forward and to not think about how much further we still had to go. 

Next stop was Hans Meyer Cave (5243m).  I believe this was our first stop for hot tea that our guides and porters had been carrying.  Up until now, it was just quick water breaks.  But here, we stayed for a 10 minute break while the porters continuously prodded us not to close our eyes, despite exhaustion. The two summit porters were instructed to take my and Imogen's backpacks for the remainder of the summit bid and we were warned not to argue with this.  We all received continual reminders to "Drink! Drink!" and our assistant guide, Felix, even took it upon himself to hold a tissue to Catherine's face so that she could blow her nose.  Now that's what I call service! Our 10 minute break went quickly and before I knew it, we were heels up and on the trail again. 

It was shortly after the Hans Meyer Cave that I began to feel absolutely awful.  Until now, I had been dealing with a bit of indigestion, but it now became acutely worse and I started to feel that an alien just might be trying to escape my stomach.  I made the group stop and wait for me while I took a short break to regain my focus and strength.  Joshua was able to find some anti-gas / antacid medication which I took and I was cursing myself for having a second helping of whatever pasta and sauce concoction we had had earlier that evening (in retrospect, I believe it was all altitude and unrelated to anything that I had eaten).  We proceeded on briefly before I had to stop again and I just plopped myself down on the steep, scree slope in resignation.  Everyone waited for what must have been about 5 minutes, after which point Joshua instructed everyone else to continue up the mountain.  Others recall him saying that they had to get going or they would be in danger of hypothermia.  I still was not well enough to move, and stayed on the ground while the rest of my group packed up and looked sadly back at me, wondering if they would see me at the top. Joshua and Patrick both stayed behind with me while Felix and the two summit porters continued with the other four upwards.

On My Own
After what seemed like a few more minutes (but in reality could have been as few as 2 or as many as 20), Joshua told me that we needed to start moving.  I knew I only had two options: go up or go down.  I thought back to everyone at home, cheering me on and supporting me from afar and thought about my own significant investment in coming half-way around the world to climb this bloody mountain.  I had known it wouldn't be easy but it's one thing to say that and commit yourself to the goal from the warmth and comfort of your home and quite another to motivate yourself when you're literally freezing, feeling miserable and still have another 500+ meters to climb in the black of night.  I couldn't give up though. I didn't know if I would ever have such an opportunity again.  I had to make it up this mountain.  So, I got up, grit my teeth and focused quite literally on one step at a time.

Topographic map of Kibo peak on Kilimanjaro
Note evil switchbacks!

It was likely still a couple hours to the next goal, Gilman's Point and the monotonous switchbacks seemed interminable.  Time passed in a dreamlike manner.  Despite feeling completely lucid at the time, there are huge gaps in my memory now.  Probably in part due to the altitude, in part due to the monotony and in part due to fact that this was such a significant event that they whole thing just seems a blur in retrospect.  We must have taken several more breaks for water and I recall shivering each time.  At one point, I complained about my hands being frozen and Joshua took off his mittens and traded them for my "ascent gloves" (for anyone considering climbing, mittens are so the way to go!).  He also gave me an extra wind-proof jacket that he had just to add another layer and help warm up my core. Given the frigid temperatures, I remember being impressed that my camelbak had not yet frozen, despite the ice chips that would form on the mouthpiece.  But, as recommended on so many websites and books, I was taking care to always blow the water back into the reservoir so that the water wouldn't freeze in the tubing.  And although my stomach was still a bit of a wreck, I remember feeling relived that I did not have any of the other symptoms that can plague a hiker at these elevations, namely nausea to the point of vomiting (I had read somewhere that 1:4 people vomit) crippling headaches, confusion and dizziness.


I felt relieved when Joshua indicated that we were approaching Gilman's Point, which is on the lip of the summit.  The slope becomes significantly less steep after this point and while it is still a very difficult climb because of the elevation, at least there would be an end to the back and forth of the wretched switchbacks, in addition to some new scenery.  And new scenery it was.  As we approached, I could see the huge green sign (resembling a highway exit sign) marking Gilman's Point.  At the same time, the sky was started to slightly brighten and I caught a first glimpse at the famous glaciers atop the mountain.  The sunrise and Gilman's Point were literally just over the next ridge.  The next few minutes were relatively easy, with the sign and the promise of a break luring me onward.



Gilman's Point (5719 m)

Sunrise over Mawenzi peak from Gilman's Point

Finally, I had arrived at Gilman's (5719m).  This officially counts as a "summit" but I could not imagine NOT carrying on to Uhuru from this point.  The true peak (and my reason for taking on this challenge) was just over an hour away.  Even so, the magnitude of this moment at Gilman's, was still overwhelming.  If I could make it this far, I knew that Uhuru was attainable.  I was overcome with emotion and my eyes welled up as the sun broke over the horizon.  I hugged Joshua and Patrick and thanked them over and over for staying with me and providing me the encouragement and motivation I needed to get to this point.

I made it! (at least to Gilman's Point so far)

My fearless and incredible guides, Joshua and Patrick

As promised by Joshua, I was treated to cookies and a can of now icy Red Bull; it's not a drink that I usually care for, but the sweet carbonation and caffeine would provide a much needed energy boost for the next hour and it was so cold that it actually tasted quite refreshing.  Patrick took my camera and starting snapping photos of the landscape and me in front of the Gilman's Point sign before we packed up and were on our way again.  From Gilman's Point, our next milestone was Stella Point, which is only 30 - 40 minutes away and about half-way between Gilman's and Uhuru (the real summit). 

Sunrise over Mawenzi Peak from the Roof of Africa

Stella Point (5745 m)

On the way to Stella Point from Gilman's

It was a huge help to have these milestones to look forward to.  It showed progress and gave me an indicator of where I was on the mountain and how much farther I had to go (even as a child, on long road trips, I felt compelled to always know where I was and follow our progress on a map and this felt no different).  As we proceeded, the path became rockier and icier.  I was now lunging over large slabs of ice and snow, trying to find footing in the carved out rocky section between 2 foot icy walls on either side of me.  Soon enough, I saw the sign indicating Stella Point. 

"Stella!!!!!"

The Snows of Kilimanjaro
(you can see the trail of hikers in the upper right corner)

As I approached Stella Point, I started watching for the rest of my group, thinking that I would surely pass them descending as I continued to hike upwards.  I had no idea how far ahead of me they were at this point, since I had no idea how long I had stopped for nor how much quicker they may have ascended.

We stopped for a few minutes at Stella Point (5745 m), but just long enough to wait in line to take my photo in front of the sign.  At this point, we all just wanted to reach the summit and at these altitudes, it was best not to linger.  The faster you can get up the mountain (and thereby the sooner you can start your descent), the better.  So, a quick water break and we were on our way again.  Next stop Uhuru, a mere 150 m in elevation away!

From this point, the hiking became rote - continuing one step at a time on the rocky path - but the scenery by no means was routine.  Everything around me was a thing of beauty, from the stark white glaciers sitting atop the black volcanic rock to the awe-inspiring sunrise to the admiration I felt for all the fellow climbers surrounding me who had all traveled so far and worked so hard and were about to achieve the same incredible goal.  

"Tiny" Mt. Meru (a mere 4,562 m) from atop Kili

I was passing more and more people starting to make their way down the mountain, as I continued to trod upwards scanning the passers-by for Olivia, Ed, Imogen and Catherine.  As time went on, I became more and more hopeful that they might not be that far ahead of me.  And finally, I could see the sign off in the not so far off distance, indicating Uhuru Peak!

The Roof Of Africa: Uhuru Peak (5895 m)!

I made it!

Felix, Ed, Catherine, Olivia and Imogen
and our two summit porters at Uhuru Peak

A few more steps and I had done it!  I was now standing on the Roof of Africa, 5895 m above sea level.  Almost immediately upon making it to the peak, I was reunited with everyone from my group, who were still all lingering at the top of the mountain waiting for me to arrive.  They had arrived about 20 minutes earlier.  So, after nearly 7 hours of hiking in below-freezing temperatures under the dark of night, we were now standing in the brilliant sunshine, celebrating our feat of climbing the highest peak in Africa.  Unfortunately, it was at this point that I realized that my camera battery had been completely depleted (or frozen), but fortunately Catherine and Olivia were there to snap a few photos!

It was an incredible feeling and quite surreal, but it was short-lived.  By now it was after 7 AM and we still had many (and I mean MANY) hours of hiking ahead of us.  Additionally, Catherine was beginning to not feel well and though the excitement and adrenaline had dulled my stomach pains, I was still suffering quite a bit myself.  After 10 minutes of celebrating and watching other groups come, take photos and leave, it was our turn to start making our long way down the mountain...

And so starts the loooooong descent...