The summit
Summit night on Kili is a combination of intense, surreal and wild emotions.
Day five: After spending the day already hiking a good 4 -5 hours through Kili’s rocky and barren alpine desert we arrive at Barafu Camp (4,600m), around 1pm. Here we have lunch and a few hours rest before an early 5pm dinner. Why? Because we are having another rest straight after dinner so we can wake at 10.30pm for a light snack of tea and popcorn before heading on a 6-7 hour hike to the Uhuru peak. The summit.
When we wake at 10.30pm it is freezing and pitch black. I put on my thermals, followed by a fleece top and bottom and then ski pants and jacket. That’s three layers. Our day-packs are loaded with snacks including those with plenty of sugar to give us much needed energy boosts. Three litres worth of water bottles are placed upside down in our packs. In these conditions, water will unsurprisingly freeze. At least when they are upside down, water at the top of the nozzle can still be accessible.
When we’re packed and loaded, we begin the extremely slow ascent to the peak. “Pole, pole” is a Swahili phrase you will hear everywhere in Tanzania but it is the mantra of the mountain. Due to the altitude going “pole, pole” or “slowly, slowly” is essential. Slow and steady will well and truly win the race. And there’s no real other option. From Barafu at 4,600m to the peak of 5,895m the altitude makes everything, even zipping up your tent, that much harder and heavier. Unsurprisingly, walking uphill in the dark for 6 hours is an absolute killer in these conditions. Pounding headaches, shortness of breath and nausea are part of the high altitude package.
The majority of the hike transpires during the middle of the night and the wee hours of the morning, meaning it is largely pitch black the entire time. A seemingly never ending queue of head torches weave their way up the mountain lighting up the sky like stars. Although the views in the daytime would undoubtedly be stunning, hiking this distance in the darkness also has the physiological benefit of not allowing you to be utterly disheartened and demotivated when you realise how far the summit actually is from your starting point.
As we hike, we move like a zombie chain gang. One foot in front of the other, marching to the beat of our guide, Prosper and team of porters, as they sing and even dance their way up the mountain to keep us motivated. It is a bizarre experience when you are freezing cold and slightly delicious from altitude to see the rest of your support team in their absolute element. They are cooee-ing to fellow guides and porters further up and down the mountain. They are dancing, jumping on one leg while holding our day-packs which we can no longer manage. Their songs, which thoughtfully incorporate all the team member’s names works to keep us motivated when my mantra recitation (a combination of the Gayatri mantra and my own affirmation, “with even step I connect with the earth, with ever breath I nourish my body”) starts to fail me as my breath becomes more laboured and laboured.
We find out later, the porters always sing as we near a break. They use it as a way to keep our minds off wondering “when the hell do we get to rest!?” and to encourage us to keep moving. When we do stop for breaks, the porters hover around us to give water, help us put on more layers, bring us snacks and pull us up and even walk hand-in-hand with us when it’s time to get moving again.
Despite what feels like forever, but also oddly no time at all, Stellar Point is on the horizon. But Stellar Point is somewhat of a cruel stop. It is the top of the mountain but a further 30 minute walk is required to get to the actual summit, Uhuru Peak. As we reach Stellar Point the sun begins to rise and casts magnificent orange rays across the horizon. I’m so relieved to get here that when we stop for photos, I make the mistake of sitting down. My breathing becomes more laboured. My body seizes up. It wants no part in this anymore.
I pull myself along to get to the final summit. Baba Prosper, our guide and surrogate father of our group patiently links his arm in mine and helps me a step at a time to get to the peak. He even pulls out an emergency Coca Cola to give a sugar rush. The fizz also helps you belch to relieve nausea from the high altitude I’ve been told. As we walk along the crater, the scenery again changes with glaciers and neat rows of icicles surrounding us. Finally I make it to the Uhuru peak where our porters run and carry me on their shoulders for the last the few steps and celebrate my feat, like I’m some football star that just won the championship.
We embrace each other. Emotions run on high. We laugh, cry and ask each other, “why the hell did we just do that?!”
And just when we are rejoicing in this sublime moment, on the roof of Africa, on top of the world, it is time to go. The quicker we get to lower altitude the better. Pole, pole suddenly turns in haraka, haraka (quickly, quickly!) and we head downhill. The descending path is slightly more direct and takes us across dirt and dusty dunes that we almost ski down. After a six hour ascent, almost running down the mountain in an hour and a half to base camp is slightly frustrating.
Back at Barafu we are allowed a rest. I fall into my tent with my feet half outside the flaps. Cha Cha, one of our incredible porters run and unlaces my boots and dusts them off for me. I fall asleep immediately.
An hour later, Ernest another one of our hero porters gently wakes us. “Mambo, Dada Vero. Twende. (Hi Sister Veronica, let’s go).” Part two begins. We need to continue to lower altitude. Tired, sore and still dealing with the effects of the altitude we all somehow manage to pull ourselves out of our slumber with renewed energy. Boots back on, we walk another four hours to Mweka Camp at 3,100m. The resilience of the human body is amazing. Walking downhill feels like a dream. We make it to camp in the late afternoon. After an early dinner everyone is out like a light by 8pm.
The final morning we are granted a sleep in (compared to the previous night) and have a relaxed start. As we now don’t need the same mental strength to motivate us, the impact of the physical endurance of yesterday’s summit is now hitting us. Our bodies catch up and suddenly calves are burning from the ascent and knees are sore from yesterday’s skiing lesson. Again we push on, knowing the end is in sight and that a very gradually downhill track follows. It is another four hours but compared yesterday’s hike, we know we can do anything. Like it was the first day of our hike, we are motivated and determined. We make it to the Mweka gate, the exit (or entry point) with a spring in our step. This time we have to do our own singing to keep us motivated. This time our reward isn’t the summit, but showers, comfy beds and non-carb-loaded food.
And what a treat it is. Although despite the extreme luxury of the hotel compared to our campsites, once we are showered and rested, we are all longing for the mountain. We miss her energy. We miss her fresh, crisp air. We miss her magical sunrises. We miss Kili.
Climbing a mountain is a literal journey in every sense, but in particular a spiritual one. Whether your that way inclined or not, you can’t help but feel a profound connection with nature and something bigger. It’s a journey that fosters great focus and determination, even when your body wants to give up. Disconnected from all the niceties of home and without anywhere else to be, you focus on the path ahead, or the summit ahead and taking it all at one marvelous, albeit laboured, breath or step at a time.
