Climbing Mount Kilimanjaro
A few years ago, I went to an Exodus Travels presentation about Mount Kilimanjaro. Apart from the exciting prospect of reaching the summit of the highest mountain in Africa, the speaker spoke of many great things about the mountain. What captivated me the most was the fact that on a clear day you can actually see the curvature of the world from the summit. That got me hooked. Hiking Mount Kilimanjaro became a goal.
There are many ways of climbing Kilimanjaro. I opted for the Lemosho Route, because it was longer and the best possible way of acclimatising to the altitude. Kilimanjaro is one of the hardest mountains in the world to climb because the rise in altitude is rapid. Being an asthmatic, I wasn’t going to take chances. Many people get carried off that mountain. Some live, and some unfortunately die.
My hike started on Friday 16th September. We were a group of 15. My fitness is average. I run on average twice a week and occasionally practice Yoga. I was modestly confident I could manage the task of walking an average of 8 miles a day for 8 days.The truth though, is I wasn’t. As we ascended each day, my stamina peaked after about 3 hours of walking.
The daily walks were on average 7 hours long. By the time I got to camp I was shattered, but then in the evening, I struggled to sleep. We would normally retire to our tents at around 8:30pm. I would lay in my sleeping bag for 10 hours struggling to sleep. All sorts of thoughts ran through my mind but apart from the odd 10 minute dose, sleep never came until sunrise. Maybe it was the sub zero night temperature or just anxiety but for the 6 days preceding the final assent I hardly had more than two hours sleep!
In the early hours of Thursday 22nd September we started our final assent from Barafu Camp. This was our 6th camp at an altitude of 4600m. The first summit point Stella Point is 5700m and approximately 4km away from Barafu. To be a certified climber you need to reach Gilman’s Point, Stella Point or Uhuru Peak. We set off with hundreds of other climbers just after midnight. There was a half moon, but it didn’t help vision much. All we each had were head torches. Like all other nights, the temperature had dropped to sub zero. Our team of 15 were supported by around 9 guides. I was physically shattered due to the lack of sleep but full of adrenalin. The thought of completing my goal spurred me on for the first few hours.
Three days earlier I caved in on my vow not to take the Altitude Sickness drug Diamox. Walking along the Shira Plateau and ascending to the Shira Cathedral at 4100m left me with a serious headache — one of the symptoms of AMS. Doubt set in. The Lead Guide John, didn’t push it on me, but advised that Diamox could help and I should hang in there. My group were all very supportive and concerned about my welfare. A couple privately offered me the medication which I gladly accepted when the two paracetamol’s I took prove ineffective. Thankfully, even though I didn’t sleep an ounce that night, and I ended up going to the toilet about 3 times that night (Diamox is like a diuretic), after a few hours the headache subsided.
Despite the adrenaline, three hours into the final assent fatigue began to get the better of me again. The higher we climbed, the less oxygen in the air and the harder and faster my heart pumped. Breathing was a struggle, movement was near impossible. I could no longer keep up with the majority of group who were equally struggling with the assent. However as I dropped back with three others, the Lead Guide along with 4 other guides stayed with us, gently leading the slower pace encouraging us Pole Pole (Slowly Slowly). And so by around 6am the Sun slowly began to rise and thaw my frozen fingers and feet and brighten the sky. By 7am I was at the brink. Despite numerous breaks to eat and take sips from my water bottle, I couldn’t find energy to shuffle more than a few steps at a time. I could see the summit about 100m ahead but struggled.
At this point I had fallen even further back from the other three members of my group. Simon, a Massai Summit Porter kindly took my back pack and quietly walked closely behind me ensuring I didn’t feint or fall. Meanwhile Lucy another guide who had stuck with me from day one of the hike gently encouraged me with sweet words. “Don’t give up Rasheed”, “Think about your family, come on Rasheed you can do it”, “Rasheed we are nearly there!” “Twende (Swahli for come on) Rasheed”. Meanwhile as I struggled to move, intermittently other guides will approach in the opposite direction physically carrying fellow adventurers who either couldn’t make it to the top or who on arrival at the summit were hit with Acute Mountain Sickness and lost control of their brain function and legs.
By 8am I was able to finally find the courage and strength to get to Stella’s Point. 5756m. Stella Point is the edge of the volcano’s crater but not the highest peak along the rim of the crater. Once you arrive at Stella Point, climbers would normally proceed on a two hour partial round trip of the circumference of the summit to Uhuru Peak which stands at 5895m. My goal was to get to Uhuru Peak, however I am a realest. That extra effort was beyond my ability. I wanted to freely descend without the aid of a stretcher. So when the Lead Guide hugged me and whispered I should make my way down, I took his brotherly advice without protest and made my way back to base camp. Aided by Lucy and Simon, I finally arrived at base camp at around midday. I had been hiking for near 12 straight hours.
It is worth stating that at Stella Point I didn’t see the curvature of the earth. The sky below was full of clouds which obscured the view.
Notwithstanding, my experience in retrospect was great. Although I didn’t find what I was seeking, I found heroes, good people who blessed me kindness and care that in my opinion was over and above their duty.
Lead Guide John who knew I wasn’t up to the task but was determined to make sure I was able to fulfil my goal.
Simon, the Massai Tribesman who was stoic under the conditions and quietly followed closely behind me carrying my back pack and propping me up when my legs were going.
Lucy, the Massai Queen, with her relentless encouragement, who gently wiped my tears with her bare hands and consoled me when I finally got to the summit.
Veronica, a mother of young twins, who carried my 15kg luggage (along with her own) on her head every day. She would walk on average 8 miles a day leaving the camp after us, pass us en route, help set up my tent at the next campsite and then come back and meet me half way to take my day back pack. She doesn’t earn more that £10 a day.
I will never forget these good folk. I also won’t forget Abraham, Frankie, Angel, Stratton, Jonas, Spider Man and Florian too.
Sometimes in life, the people with the least, give the most love and care with sincerity.
I learnt a lot up in that mountain. I learnt a lot about myself and human nature.
Big thanks to my fellow climbers in the group and I will also like to thank my family and friends.
Gratitude and respect to Tee Morgan, Jules Brown, Sharonia Anderson, and Martyn Gausden for your advice and guidance. You have all been to the top of the Mountain and can relate to my experience.
