Hike Day 7 - The Summit : Feb. 25

So very, very early today was the time. At this point, even less than a day later, it is a blur.

We were woken up at 11pm, supposedly to leave by midnight. I had already woken up a few times and our tent had been battered by wind. This and the darkness and anticipation freaked me out sufficiently.

I put on all the layers I had, which turned out to be:
• Sports bra
• Wicking shirt
• Two wicking long-sleeves
• Retro acrylic sweater from the 70s (yes, Mom, that went up Kilimanjaro)
• Black fleece
• Red fleece
• Wind-resistant coat with fleece inner layer
• Leggings
• Wind pants
• Hiking pants
• Snow pants
• Hiking socks
• Scarf
• Snow gloves
• Wool cap with ear flaps lined with fleece

Sum total: four layers on bottom, seven layers on top. Alisa kept mentioning Randy from "The Christmas Story" - "I can't put down my arms!" More like I couldn't bend over to tie my hiking boots.

I hit the toilet, had a cup of hot water, adjusted my poles, and spent another ten to twenty minutes waiting for the five guides that were going to help us up the mountain.

But we were finally off, with a few hours of sleep, our headlamps, and the full moon. Knowing there was at least six hours of drudgery, most people (including me) had some music in their ears as well.

The first bit was rocky, requiring stepping up onto shelves of rock. Not a hard thing, at sea level and room temperature. At roughly freezing and 3900 meters, it was tough. With all of my layers on, I got overheated (as did most of the group), so the guides scurried around unzipping layers and removing hoods.

A flat section broke the slope, and afterward, it was frozen gravel or scree at a steep angle. One step up would sometimes stick and sometimes send you back to just inches from where you started. This, while zig-zagging up ridges for the majority of the time, was also the easiest for me to just keep plugging along at.

As for altitude, I wasn't feeling any physical symptoms, like a headache or nausea (though there were some signs of those who did get that along the trail). What I was feeling, though, was back and neck pain. The anxiety and carrying a backpack and being forced to stare right in front of me at the feet of whomever I was following was a perfect disaster for my neck. But, that was bearable pain, and understandable.

Less understandable, and way more scary, was the lack of oxygen. While I wasn't feeling the symptoms, I was feeling the effects. After the first bit of rock, it was mostly uphill scree walking. However, when there was a shelf of rock, I began to hyperventilate. I knew the exertion of lifting my body six inches into the air would start me breathing heavy, and that scared me. Everytime, I pulled down my scarf to breath in the stingingly cold air and used my poles to help pull me up.

The night was long. The glaciers that are just below the crater rim we could see from camp yesterday. We were also the highest collection of tents at Barafu, so had the shortest hike to join up with the trail. However, as close as the glaciers appeared, it was only because they were massively far away the other times we've seen them.

And so, hour after hour passed. We took very short breaks to rest, but it was too cold to stop for long. The guides served us tea at about the halfway point (though I didn't know it at the time - I had no concept of time except that it was creeping by), and I jumped behind a rock to pee. Between the gloves and my frozen fingers, I couldn't get my hiking pants or snow pants to close. I had two layers on underneath, so didn't care from a decency perspective, but the snow pants riding low didn't help my anxiety at stepping up on rocks.

I was also twenty meters behind the group, which, while everyone is going "pole pole", is insurmountable. So Bruce guided me on. When they stopped for a break, the two of us pressed on. And that was how, six and a half grueling hours later, Stella Point and the sunrise came into view.

Stella Point is along the crater rim at 3700-ish meters, and is an hour's walk from Uruhu, the summit and highest point on the crater rim. Getting there meant it was the home stretch - flatter than before and in the sun.

I cheered the majority of "Team Simba" (our group nickname) for their final twenty feet, and we paused for just long enough to take in the fiery red sky. Then, the trudgery continued around the crater rim.

The sun did warm things up a bit, but the biting wind that showed up counteracted that. We were walking past a volcano caldera on the right and giant glaciers on the left, so the view wasn't lacking.

We suffered that final bit; Bob, Tracy, Duncan, Stewart, Alisa and I made it to the sign for the summit all around the same time. The obligatory photos were taken, then Taletha showed up just in time for the group picture. There was no sign of Erin.

I was very unhappy at the summit. I didn't like the chaos at the sign for picture-taking, I didn't even like that pictures had to be taken for proof at that point. I was cold, a little hungry, out of breath, and ready to head back to camp that instant.

The second we gathered our gear and turned around, my mood did a 180 as well. Alisa and I cheered on those who were still trickling to the summit, including Erin! The glaciers, the view, the companionship, everything was wonderful.

At Stella Point, we met up with Duncan and Stewart, and started the giant slide downhill. There was mention in one of the Kili books of the erosion problem, and the daylight clearly revealed that. We were skidding down the mountain!

I assumed it would be a quick trip down, despite the trip up being over six hours. Two hours and three falls later, we made it back to camp, dusty, tired, and ready to stop using our muscles.

We had a one-hour break that turned into two as Taletha favored her knee coming down the mountain. Then it was lunch and we were off to Mweka Huts.

While the summit was grueling, the six or so mile walk down to camp wasn't much fun either. We left the moonscape for a desert, left the desert for scrub, and left the scrub for a forest. The "two hour" hike was four hours of knee-blasting rock or rock creek bed. It was slow going for some, but I knew all of us couldn't wait to get into camp.

And what a site. Surrounded by trees, in a clearing, with dirt under us instead of rocks and dust - heaven. Stewart had already had Duncan check out beer availability, so we had Babu acquire some through illegal means. (The registration store said they weren't allowed to sell it, but sell it they did.)

The six of us that made it down to camp with Peter (Duncan, Stewart, Bob, Tracy, Alisa, and I) all popped a lukewarm one and dissected the day.

When the others showed up, it was popcorn then dinner time. We've been eating less (I'm getting sick of the same flavors over and over) and tonight was no different.

Our briefing with Bruce was different. He brought up the ceremony tomorrow, and the tipping that goes along with it. After over an hour of talking about everything from politics to the Kilimanjaro Porter Association, we basically figured out we'll fill out a paper at the hotel tomorrow. I think.

Regardless, lots of work and not much sleep deserves to be remedies.