Leave Only Footprints - the Climb to Kilimanjaro
When we decided to climb Mt. Kilimanjaro (Kili) as part of our East African experience during a year of volunteering and adventuring our way around the world, I must admit I didn't know much about it.
I didn't know about the three volcanic craters, Shira, Mawenzi, and Kibo. I didn't know that while Shira and Mawenzi are extinct, Kibo is considered dormant (although it has not erupted for a gazillion years). I did not know that the highest point of Mt. Kilimanjaro, Uhuru Peak, is actually located on the peak of Kibo.
What I did know was that Mt. Kilimanjaro was, well big. I knew that they probably didn't call it 'The Rooftop of Africa' for nothing! We had met a number of people throughout our travels who had attempted and/or summited Kili and had heard all accounts and stories. From altitude sickness to massive headaches, to loss of appetite, to freezing cold, to sleeplessness, everybody shared their tales. They all agreed on one thing though, that it was worth it.
With our packs filled to bursting with rental equipment including -20 rated sleeping bags, thermal pants, balaclavas, fleece jackets, and mittens, we felt prepared. We met the team on Friday morning and learned that apparently, it takes a 'village' to climb Kili. With our tour operator, driver, guide, assistant guide, cook, and four porters in tow, we crammed into a single land cruiser and headed out.
At the Londorossi Gate of Kilimanjaro National Park, the 'village' weighed our supplies and got the nod from the warden (each porter is allowed to carry 25kg, which is embarrassing as I am convinced that some of these guys couldn't have weighed more than me), and we headed toward the trailhead.
Today's hike, beginning at an altitude of 2200m was to be a gentle introduction to the mountain. We were positively giddy, breathing in the fresh air as we cruised through the forest reaching our first camp in less than two hours. What, that's it?? A gentle introduction indeed. We arrived at camp with tents already pitched and hot water at the ready (I’m guessing it probably only took our 'village' a half an hour to arrive).
Sure, we were surrounded by luxury operators toting their dining tents, complete with dining tables, full-back chairs and silk flower centerpieces. Sure, some groups were afforded the luxury of toilet tents and even toilets were being carted up the mountain to accommodate them. One group of porters actually burst into song when their clients arrived in camp (like at a restaurant when it's somebody's birthday!).
We, however, were on a budget. Our 2x2 table would do just fine and when it was too cold, we would eat inside our tent. We were no strangers to latrines, and so what if these ones didn't have doors? What our team lacked in frills, they made up for in flair! We would rough it.
The next morning, we were up bright and early, enjoyed our first of countless bowls of porridge and white bread, and headed back into the rainforest. We emerged from the rainforest, entered the moorland zone, and got our first glimpse of Kibo! Now, with Kibo like a beacon ahead, we carried on, moving through the first campsite (Shira Camp 1) and on to the second. We stopped only for lunch (a honey and carrot sandwich. Yes, you read that right.) and to assess the direction of the lion prints (what? lions? nobody said anything about lions!) along the way.
Shira Camp 2 at 3700m offered us great views of the mountain, and the outhouses even had doors.
Day 3 was another change of scenery, as we entered the alpine desert and ascended from 3700m to 4600m to Lava Tower camp, purely for acclimatization. We then descended to Barranco Hut camp at 3950m to spend the night. Still feeling good and strong at this altitude, we can't help but wonder if our time spent at altitude in Ecuador prior to arriving in Africa helped us with the acclimatization.
With amazing views of the mountain's peak, the Barranco Camp was by far the most scenic and beautiful. (This is also where we enjoyed the first of our rationed packages of M&M’s we had managed to squeeze into the nooks and crannies of our packs).
Leaving from Barranco Camp on Day 4 required a scramble, pulling ourselves up and over the Barranco 'wall'. From the wall, we carried on to Karanga Camp but didn't stop there. By this point, the decision had been made to shave a day off the climb. Our guide, Daniel, was determined to get us to the summit on a clear day as we had shared with him our past bad luck with cloudy summit days. He was constantly 'reading' the weather and decided that we were on track for a clear summit morning if we carried on. Who were we to argue?
(It’s at about this point in the trip when you can actually physically see the dirt piling up in your pores. With every wrinkle of skin and fingernail and crevice being filled with dirt and dust, it is now that you start to really fantasize about what it would be like to shower. Even wearing long pants, the dust seems to sneak in and attach itself like a stain.)
From Karanga Camp, we carried on (more like UP) to Barafu Camp at 4600m. As we went up, we passed a group who had summited earlier in the day who were on their way down. I asked eagerly and innocently "So....How was it?". Mistake. One man was quick to pipe in sarcastically, "Piece of cake", while another, looking worse for wear, said, "He's lying". A woman, as if shooting daggers at her guide, added "Wear everything you own". From behind me, I could barely make out the last woman adding her two cents "Bring tissue!".
Walking through clouds (a good sign for a clear morning), we reached the base camp and prepared for the summit ascent.
With our tent secured (fingers crossed) on a ledge, tied around rocks on all sides, our clothes carefully planned out, new batteries put in headlamps, and camera batteries secured in wool socks so as not to freeze on the way up, we climbed in early to catch some rest before the planned 1:00 AM ascent to the summit.
Shortly after 1:00 AM we emerged from our tent and were greeted by a full moon and a clear sky full of stars. Perfect. As we began our ascent, layered to the max, I remember naively thinking to myself "Boy, I hope it gets colder, because I'm really hot". It did.
Wiggling my fingers and toes to maintain circulation the whole way and having added more layers, we reached Uhuru Peak, the summit of Mt. Kilimanjaro, the highest point in Africa, the highest free-standing mountain in the world, at 6:20 am.
The sunrise was gorgeous. The morning light revealed the many glaciers surrounding the Kibo crater, and the sun's rays, combined with our adrenaline, quickly warmed us.
As I watched people take their turns, posing for pictures beneath the congratulatory summit sign, some holding pictures of loved ones, some recording video messages to their kids, some simply smiling proudly, and all radiating a sense of accomplishment, I could feel a welling behind my own eyes, and the woman's advice to "Bring tissue" suddenly made sense.
We took our turn under the sign, smiled for the camera, and headed back from where we'd come. While it was extremely satisfying to reach the summit, I couldn't help thinking that, as with so many things, it had been just as much about the journey as the final destination.
We arrived back at base camp shortly before 9:00 AM and rested for an hour before a grueling two-and-a-half-hour descent to the Mweka Camp at which we would spend our final night. The following morning, we hit the trail early and were back in Moshi town by 11:30 AM, celebrating sweet success.
