The porters awoke us at 11pm, on a clear, cold night with a full moon. After yet another hearty meal and some coffee and water, we gathered in a line, all bundled up in layers. We could already see the lights of other groups heading up toward the summit. We got our water bottles back from the porters and lined up, eager with anticipation. The porters also gave us snack packets for the trip, pastries, chocolate, and that sort of thing to help provide energy on the long climb ahead.
Once we were all ready, and Good Luck satisfied that we were ready, we began the climb. Still below the snowline, we trudged along a rocky trail, at this point with a gradual slope, though it wasn’t long until the trail became steep, and not long after that we reached the first snow.
On the way up, I heard a guide sending someone back to Kibo Hut with instructions to stay there; I supposed that he was experiencing HACE or HAPE, and his guide was sending him back down for his safety. It reminded me of how dangerous the elevation could be, and how unpredictable its effects.
Onward we trudged, making our way slowly up the mountainside. The group gradually fragmented, but no one was climbing alone. Togalay, one our porters, climbed with me, and somewhere along the way, when he realized that the altitude was affecting me significantly, he grabbed my day pack in order to help me reach the summit.
As we gained elevation, we started seeing more and more snow. This early in the morning the snow helped to stabilize the scree, while it remained frozen, which in turn made the climb easier. The trail continued to switch steeply back and forth across the face of Kibo as we gradually gained elevation. The air grew thinner, making everything seem more difficult, yet onward we plodded.
I was nearly out of water before I reached Gilman’s Point, the first point on the summit of great Kilimanjaro. I could feel the altitude’s effects as I had more and more trouble staying focused on the task at hand, except when I drank… as long as I had water. Shortly before reaching the summit, I ran out. I knew then that I was in trouble, because I was feeling the first effects of high altitude cerebral edema, and had no more water with which to fend it off. The sun at my back lead me to turn around, just in time to witness a truly glorious sunrise, with the sun perched atop the jagged summit of Mawenzi, with a bank of clouds crashing like a surf across the face of Kibo nearly 3000 feet below me. That sight enabled me to focus long enough to capture the image with my digital camera, but I knew that I didn’t have much more time, because I wasn’t quite at the summit yet, and I was already out of water.
Yet I pressed on.
At Gilman’s Point, I realized that without water, I couldn’t continue to Uhuru Point; it was only one more mile, and only 600 vertical feet, but I was already feeling the disorientation setting in. Instead, I paused at Gilman’s Point long enough to get a few pictures, and then began the long trip back down.
Once Togalay realized what was going on, he started pulling me downward toward camp. Good Luck caught up with us when we were back on the scree, below the snowline, and helped Togalay keep me standing up while we scree-skated our way back to Kibo Hut Camp. On the way, I felt the disorientation fade, the relief of having my faculties back far overshadowing the exhaustion I felt upon our return to camp, where I immediately crawled back into my sleeping bag to rest and recover from the adventure.
