Climbing Kilimanjaro
By Will Jennings
26 Aug 2009
Oxygen and altitude are a hellish combination. Oxygen, nestled comfortably between Nitrogen and Fluorine at spot number 8 on the periodic table of elements, is highly reactive, required for nearly all combustion and crucially, is vital for human respiration. As altitude increases however the amount of oxygen molecules per breath is greatly reduced resulting in the human body to be called upon to adapt and if you're tasked with climbing a mountain in Tanzania called Kilimanjaro, that's where the fun starts.
It's day 2, we've ascended to 3,700m (12,139 ft) and I'm in a bad way. I'm not sure whether it's the altitude or adjusting to the food but whatever it is it doesn't agree with me. I can't keep anything inside me and spend the entire night pacing a circuit from our 4 person hut to the primitive but amazingly flushing toilet. It's -2c (28f) outside and much the same inside. I awake the next morning dehydrated, deprived of sleep and drained. Things are dire and we're only halfway up.
I struggle through the following two days which include a 6 hour "acclimatisation" hike and a 6 hour ascent to base camp Kibo at 4,700m (15,420ft) trying to rehydrate myself at every possible opportunity and then relent into a restless, pensive sleep with the unfamiliar race of my heart beating in my head. I'm awoken shortly before midnight by our guide Adam. "It's time to go" he whispers.
Outside Adam is joined by our wily assistant guide Max who smiles into my head torch, points near vertically up into the darkness and chuckles "Last to leave and first to arrive". We set off and I fall into a comfortably repetitive trudge, zig-zagging up the mountain for what seems like an eternity. There is no wind but the biting cold still attacks me. It's well below freezing and alpine desert shingle crunches under my feet. Stars vividly blanket the moonless sky and the odd aircraft blinks level but far in the distance. A blue backpack ahead leads me on. Hours merge together and when we reach an area Max dubs "Rock City" I'm thankful for the change in terrain.
We pause for a short rest and Adam wanders into the gloom, doubles over and due to the extreme altitude, vomits beside a supportive rock. Max soon suffers the same fate. "Last to leave and first to arrive indeed" I keep to myself. Soon, the sun peaks over the horizon and we make it to "Gilman's Point". At 5,681m (18,638 ft) Gilman's is the top of the Marangu route we have ascended but is still one and a half hours below the 5,895m (19,341 ft) of Uhuru Peak, the undisputed, highest point in Africa. We exchange congratulations with those who have decided this plenty far enough for them and push on.
Looking far around the gaping snow covered crater I can see our destination in the distance and despite the temperature having plummeted to -10c (14f) the whole mountainside is beginning to awake as the sun streams across the dawn red sky. "Not long to go now!" four and a half days of climbing exclaims. Aside from my disastrous sickness two days prior and the shock of seeing both my guides succumb to altitude sickness I am feeling quietly confident. Kilimanjaro however, which offers fifty percent less oxygen at that level, sees things differently. I quickly hit the wall. My rubbery legs cease to obey me and my walking poles become my singular focus. A surreal sensation slowly infects me, mentally plays games with me and physically manifests itself as drunkenness. Conversation takes on a buoyant but strangely removed life of it's own.
The final drive to the top surpasses all else as the hardest thing I've attempted but the last few exhausted steps give way to exhilaration. Sunrise surrounds us and as we take in the incredible expanse of glaciers, snow and then clouds far below us the accomplishment burns into my memory. We turn to leave and I catch sight of a climber who had slept in the bunk across from me at base camp. With a crazed look in his eye he shakes off the guide desperately trying to restrain him, unleashes a scream and runs the peak. I learned later that he was forcibly taken from the summit and cannot recall a thing. Such are the perils of extreme altitude.
Before we set off on this adventure an experienced climber who had just returned gave me the following advice: "This mountain, will teach you what you want to learn". Well, if you want to learn a few things about oxygen but more importantly yourself, head for Kilimanjaro. Brutal but brilliant.
2 responses
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Raizza Reyes gave props (26 Aug 2009):
this must've been an overwhelming experience
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Michael Diamond said (15 Sep 2009):
What an adventure...I envy you,thanks for taking me along with your words and pictures!
