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To the Roof of Africa
The vision
Kilimanjaro is the pinnacle of East Africa, a mountain that towers over National Parks and is often photographed with elephants in the foreground and snowy Kili behind. Planning travel to Africa I often thought about the mountain, about its presence, about its dominance of the landscape, about how much it symbolizes both Kenya and Tanzania. But until I decided to climb Kilimanjaro I wasn't a runner, wasn't a marathoner. The mountain taught me that those things aren't so important in reaching Uhuru Peak, the highest point in Africa. It's really all about willpower. It's about how your body adjusts to altitude, which you have limited control over, and about how your mind adjusts to difficult climbing conditions, over which you have absolute control. It's about pushing yourself, challenging yourself, about testing just how deep you can dig to find that extra bit to reach the top.
Preparation
I started preparing for Kilimanjaro about 3 months before my climb by running about 3 days a week, working up to 4 runs each week, three 3 mile runs and then a 6 mile run. Morning workouts included intervals and hills, and on weekends I hiked mountains in the Seattle area. The weekend before my climb I visited my parents in Lake Tahoe and with my Dad hiked about 30 miles over 3 days at elevations of 8,000-10,000 feet. Nothing near the 19,340 feet of Kilimanjaro, but it would have to be close enough.
The Climbing Group
In Marangu, at the base of Kilimanjaro, our climbing group assembled for the first time. In a group of 12 climbers I was the youngest at age 30, our oldest was 68. There were 5 British guys about my age and retired pairs from Australia, New Zealand, and the US. It was a great crew to climb with; the only time I felt left out was when the Brits and the Aussies were discussing cricket scores. For 6 days we had all of our meals together, walked together, shared experiences of past travels. We learned that James goes by Wheels, and that Mike was the only one who had completed a marathon. Sue encouraged all of the single Brits to come to Australia where she would happily set them up, and Rosie gave out chamomile tea. Our guides were an experienced crew, most of them with 5 years as an assistant guide on the mountain. Siegfried Obote, our chief guide, was a veteran of 30 years climbing Kilimanjaro. It was amazing how many staff we had, there were 37 people getting 12 of us up the mountain. They carried our tents, our packs, and most importantly our food. I was impressed at the food on our climb, I expected it to be good the first day but we were continually having eggs, bananas, tomatoes, things that you wouldnt expect a few days into a trip like this. Since dehydration is always a concern on Kilimanjaro we had hot soup with every meal and the flavors were wonderful - pumpkin, leek, and cucumber.
The Route: Rongai
The Rongai Route is billed as one of the least traveled routes up the mountain, but with Kilimanjaro becoming more popular and the Park Service not limiting the number of climbers, there are more and more climbers every year and you no longer have the route to yourself. That said, the Rongai Route is beautiful and still one of the best routes to the top. It begins in farmlands, climbing through maize fields until reaching the park boundary, where the rain forest starts. On a good day you see monkeys, and the first camp is in a forested area with a view of the summit. Each day we would get up at about 6:30am, have breakfast at 7, and start walking at 8. To acclimatize slowly the guides set an extremely slow pace, I didn't sweat the entire trip until the descent where we were allowed to go a bit faster if we wanted. Along the way we had great views of the forests and the huge Senecio kilimanjari plants, which look like something out of a Dr. Seuss story. My favorite camp was the Mawenzi Tarn Hut, at the foot of Mawenzi Peak on the East side of Kilimanjaro. There the sun turns the craggy mountain face shades of orange as you prepare for the day's hike and the lake below is an eerie shade of blue. Our last day before the summit we walked from Mawenzi Tarn Hut to Kibo Hut, across the saddle between the two peaks, with Kilimanjaro in front of us the whole way, inspiring us to push on.
The Summit
At 11:00pm Obote came to my tent with a 'Rachael, are you awake?' to let me know that it was time for our summit climb. It was finally starting, this last leg of our trek, the hardest hiking day, the summit push. After a quick breakfast of coffee and porridge we began walking. There was a full moon that night and it was clear, but it was windy. Later we decided that it was about 6 F with winds of 30-50mph, gusts of 70. Our other hiking days the pace had been slow step after slow step. This night Obote's pace was step-together, step-together, and even at that pace we were breathing quickly, our hearts pounding. We stopped for rests but Obote wouldn't let us stop for long, worrying that we would get cold. He and our four other guides were constantly checking on everybody 'How are you doing', 'Are you too cold', 'Do you have a headache'. In front of me were Wheel's boots; below me were the little headlights of all of the other climbers coming up the mountain behind us. Beyond the climbers and the mountain there was nothing, only blackness.
For 6 hours we walked. As we ascended our group broke into smaller groups, each with an assistant guide. I was at the back of the first group, with Obote leading and Passien our assistant guide behind me. Over the past days Passien and had talked quite a bit and I had come to know this quiet, serious man, who is putting his sister through medical school instead of marrying and starting a family. Tonight it's Passien who is encouraging me, telling me that he knows I'm strong, to look at how far we've come, and eventually taking my pack when those 10 extra pounds are just too heavy.
I have never been so anxious for a sunrise. My core was warm but my chin to my neck was freezing, condensation from my breath turning to ice on my scarf. With that first pre-dawn light in the East we kept thinking, 'Come on sun, Come on sun', willing the sun to rise and warm the frost on our hoods, gloves, and shoulders. And finally, just after we reached Gilman's Point at the crater rim, the sun came. Soon after the sun, Stratton, our summit porter, arrived with two other climbers and some hot tea. Nothing has ever tasted so good as that hot tea on the crater rim after such an arduous hike. And I don't even like tea. After a few minutes 10 of our group of 12 was on the crater rim, jubilant after reaching this milestone. Two of the older women decided that Gilman's Point was good enough for them, and the rest of us decided to push on another 2 hours to Uhuru.
Hiking to Uhuru the weather deteriorated, with the wind continuing and clouds approaching. By the time we reached Uhuru a little after 8:30am our surrounds were white. But there we were, finally, at the highest point on the continent. The Brits got out a rugby flag and I had a teary picture taken with Passien and Stratton. It was an unbelievable feeling, arriving at that point. Knowing how high you were, how deep you had to dig physically and mentally to be standing on that spot. Finally not thinking about putting one foot in front of the other but realizing where all of those steps had taken you. Knowing that all of the climbing was over, that after 4 days it was all downhill from here. After a few minutes our guides encouraged us to start descending from this high altitude, and by the time we returned to Gilman's Point it was snowing. We reached Kibo Hut before noon, and rested before descending again to Horombo Hut. All told I hiked 14 hours that day, and for the first time during the climb didnt wake up once during the night.
The Finish
Following the summit day we had a leisurely hike back to the Marangu gate. It was a long day, over 15 miles, but for the first time it was all downhill, and with the elation of reaching the summit and more oxygen with each step, the group was euphoric. We were all looking forward to a shower and a drink to celebrate. As we descended we passed from the moorlands to the highland rain forest, and Blue monkeys greeted us from high in a tree. We talked about future adventures, plans to come, and reveled in conquering the Roof of Africa.
Reflections
Kilimanjaro is the hardest thing I've ever done. It's the hardest thing that I will ever do. But it's within the reach of quite a few people. We had an extremely varied group and out of 12 climbers between the ages of 30 and 68, 11 reached Gilman's Point and 9 climbed to Uhuru. Nobody got altitude sickness and only one person got dehydrated on the summit day, which was the only medical problem we had. All of us had been training for the climb but none of us were uber-athletes. Under the care of our guides and fortified by good food and sometimes a little Diamox, we all stayed healthy, we slept okay, we had enough energy for jokes in the evening. Our summit climb was particularly difficult; Ive seen so many pictures of people on the summit surrounded by blue skies, whereas our summit photos are surrounded by white. Even with the cold and the wind we made it to the summit and though it was described by some as hell on earth, persevering through the weather made the accomplishment of the summit all the sweeter. If you had asked me, 'Would you do it again?' right after our summit climb I would have said no. But now, with a few weeks between that moment and now, I think I would climb again. Try a different route, try a different season, bring a balaclava instead of a scarf. But I would challenge that mountain again, just to get the feeling of standing on the top.
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