Mount Kilimanjaro Expedition 2012

Day 6 part 1: Barafu Camp to Kilimanjaro Summit

Welcome to Hell...

23h00. The time has come. We are happy and excited. But in reality, we are stupid and naive. Sure, we've had a fantastic time hiking to Barafu Camp, and we feel strong and fit. But we are now about to embark on a hike that is so intense, both physically and mentally, that we might very well die trying. We have no idea of the pure agony we are about to put ourselves through. We are happy now, but that is about to change very, very cruelly. The mountain will reveal its other side... a hellish beast that will swallow you up and spit you out with no remorse. I personally think you begin the summit attempt at night, because if you were to see the horror of what you are about to do, your body will just cease functioning. But, as far as I could determine, the real reason is that the scree is frozen at night, making it a little easier to walk on, and if you are lucky, you can see the sunrise.

And so it has begun.

We jump into our many layers of clothes in an attempt to curb the cold and the wind that cuts through our bones. Our chef hands us some hot tea and a packet of broken chocolate cookies, bless his soul. It is cold, dark and dreadful as we finally start on the trail. The moon is full and it lights up the path a bit and allows us some glimpses of the strange scenery on the way to the top. A long line of headlights are in front of us and behind us. A long line of headlights attached to hikers that may or may not make it. Everything now will depend on your willpower, and how much you want to reach the summit. And very much on how you handle the high altitude that you are about to thrust upon your body.

One foot in front of the other. That's the only way. Keep moving forward. We pass hikers that are bent over in pain, throwing up, and moaning. High altitude is a cruel mistress. I soon realise that my clothes are too heavy, and I quickly remedy the situation by adjusting my many layers. The first part of the path is fairly manageable, but then we reach the beginning of the endless switch-back paths. Nothing I ever could've done would have been able to prepare me for the agony that is about to unleash itself upon my poor unsuspecting body.

Agony...

The switch-back paths are crazy steep, in fact, I would much rather climb out of Karanga Valley 100 times instead of going up this trail again. The lack of oxygen starts taking its toll, and I move 20 small steps, and rest for 10. I am counting steps in my head and this becomes my mantra, keeping me going forward. I focus on keeping my breathing controlled, but as we go higher, this too becomes almost impossible.

Breathe, breathe, breathe, your heart rate dramatically increasing as your brain forces your unwilling body to continue moving. Thoughts of 'what the hell am I DOING?' mixes with thoughts of your family and friends and all the hard work you've put in to get this far, and you manage to force your legs to take another step while your body severely protests. The ice cold wind cuts through your clothes and chills you to the bone. The icy wind burns your lungs and numbs your fingers and toes. If you lie down here, you may not have the power to get back up again, and you will suffer for it.

It is here where the men are seperated from the boys. Your body gets pushed to its limits, and the cruel fight of mind over matter rages endlessly. Your body is suffering, and it gets worse with every step. I am truly thankful that I did not have to do this with the headache I suffered on day 3. I would not have made it.

After what feels like eternity, the switch-back paths end, and you get a glimpse a Stella Point, but it still looks unreachably far. The line of hikers are now stumbling through the inches thick snow and scree, our hiking poles saving us from falling over. With every step it gets harder. We've been going for hours now, and then sun slowy starts rising. Along with the rising sun, the mood lifts a little bit, and the unreachable begins to seem just a little bit more possible. Just one foot in front of the other, Pole Pole, and eventually, you too will make it.

Stella Point...

And then, as if it has been within reach the whole time, I reach Stella Point. I fall down on the first rock I see and burst into huge, uncontrollable tears. I have been in a living hell for the past few hours, my mind, body and very soul drained out of me. Freddie gives me some more lemon-ginger tea, which tastes horrible by now, but manages to revive me a bit. My water bottle has began freezing a little bit, and the water is ice-cold, but tastes like heaven.

I have been keeping my camera batteries in a warm spot in my pocket seperate from my digital camera, and quickly snap a few pictures. The batteries freeze after about 3 minutes, but I've got the pictures I wanted. I managed to revive them too by holding them in my hand to warm them up a little bit.

It is now time to push for Uhuru Peak, our Final Destination. Getting to Stella Point has been an undescribably horror, but luckily the path to Uhuru is more gentle. We pass the most amazing glaciers. The distance we have to still hike is short, but we are walking so slowly that it takes two hours to cover.

Uhuru Peak...

Then we reach it. Uhuru Peak. The highest point in Africa. The Roof. Nobody in the whole of Africa is higher than we are right now. We have conquered the beast. We have conquered Mount Kilimanjaro...