We Are The Scatterings of Africa

I’m not sure that I got any sleep, it could have been the excitement, it could have been the altitude, it could have been that there was just not enough time to sleep. It was 12:01 and game day, I popped my second Diamox within a 12 hour period knowing what lies ahead, packed up everything and filled my Camel Pak, then put on my headlamp and aimed it towards the ground. The next 5 hours would look like this.


At this point the mind needs distractions, the push for the summit is as much physical as it is mental, and if you get caught up thinking about how far you have to go, how hard it is to breathe, how steep it is, and how that only 50% of the people make it in 5 days, you might get lost. With the lack of oxygen it is very hard to concentrate and easy to lose control of your mind. The data running through my mind was initially “I will make it to the top, I will make it to the top, I will make it to the top, oh crap I think I left the iron on at home, no wait I put that away, I will make it to the top…” However this simple repetitive phrase was causing my mind to check out as there was no thought process going on and I felt like I might lose it. I needed something to keep me sharp so I started calculating Big-O notation for various algorithms such as Huffman Encoding, Dijkstra’s algorithm, and various tree algorithms. What can I say, I’m a computer geek.


We were not one of the first groups to start this morning, in fact we were one of the later ones. However Romlie was off to the races, so much for “Pole-Pole”, and we were soon passing people. We were all climbing for our own reasons, all working to overcome our own obstacles, for some they were fighting it mentally, others were struggling physically, but we all had the same destination in mind, we shared a common goal. So we pressed on, step, breathe, step, breathe, and then step breathe, breathe. For me it was not about who was first, but I did wait until we had a comfortable lead, meaning I looked down the mountain and all I saw was the faint light from their headlamps, that I asked Romlie to slow down. I had a screaming headache and would not make it at this pace, however once we slowed and I was again able to get some oxygen back to my brain that I settled down and my headache went away, and I was again on track for the summit.

Finally, after looking up in the dark and barley being able to make out the outline of more mountain we got to a point that I was no longer able to make out more mountain, and after climbing over rocks for the last 30 minutes we were at Gilman’s point. We accomplished the hardest part of the accent to reach 18,650 feet. Now if only the other side of the mountain would blow up and make this point the new summit we can call it a day, no such luck. This was also the point at which the water in my Camel Pak frozen and I would be without hydration for the remainder of the day. However Gilman gives you your second wind, knowing that you are so close to what you are searching for.


While researching this using Google Earth I was under the impression that the walk from Gilman’s point around the crater rim to Uhuru Peak was relatively easy. I tell you I really could not have been more wrong. It’s long and hard with more rocks to navigate over and includes not one but three false summits. What I mean by that is that you see what appears to be the top, however once you get there, there is no sign and then you look to your right and you see more mountain. This depressing process occurs three times before you finally see that sign, that sign that until now only appeared in your dreams. And our early acceleration paid off, we were the second ones to the top and had the sign all to ourselves. What does it feel like? That is something that can only be experienced, as I have no idea how to even begin to describe it. I over came my own obstacles and I climbed it for my own reasons, and when I first touched the sign indicating the summit, a tear rolled down my left cheek, I found what I was looking for, and I understood it. 19,340 feet. After getting a few pictures I had one thing left that I had to do. Mount Kilimanjaro has the highest cell tower in the world, and with the time change between here and the US, I attempted to phone my Dad to wish him a happy birthday from the highest point in Africa. However I was not able to get a signal until we started our decent, so I guess it really came from “almost the highest” point in Africa.


I wish it could have lasted forever however our time at this altitude was limited and we would soon be required to begin our decent. Now that others were arriving we were starting to see the effects of no oxygen on the human brain. A German guy kept falling down, which had he come out of a pub would have been quite funny, however up here on his third fall he face planted in to a rock next to the sign and cut open his eye. But he was here, got the picture, and then was quickly assisted with his descent.


Unfortunately the weather would not be affording us any views, which would have been a nice bonus to our main goal, but I right now I could never complain. Had it been clear you could have seen the crater over this edge.


On the way back down I was given a very special experience, something that I can never forgot, something that would shape my life forever. Ben and I were the second people to reach the summit that morning and we passed a lot of people on our decent who were still working their way up. I think people saw us glowing, they could tell by our face, our body motion, that we made it to the top. They would congratulate us, give us hugs, and shake our hands, and we would let them know that soon it would be their time, it’s not much farther, if we made it so can you. This happened time and time again, and then finally I understood it. I would only meet a handful of people on this mountain, our encounter would be brief, and once over I would not see or hear from them again, but everyone I meet, everyone on this mountain today, and everyone ever on this mountain, they are my brothers and sisters. We share a common bond, we were all called home by a single mother that is this mountain, we are the scatterlings of Africa, on the road to Phelamanga.


The glacier was barely visible through the snow.






The sun came up on the way down and I was able to see what we climbed up, I now know why we did this in the dark.




Remember that black line from my previous picture? Well I got cute and tried to float the whole way down the fall line. It did not work and after years of abusing my knees skiing and mountain biking they were not pleased with my recent actions. So I had to resort to a slow decent. Once back down we got a picture with the team that made this a successful summit. Conditions were not perfect but it is an image I will cherish always.


But we were not done yet. We made it to the top and back down to Kibo in 9 hours. Ben said guess what time it is. I said 1, 1:30 in the afternoon, and he said it was five after nine in the morning. I lost track of time, I lost track of where I was. We would then begin our decent past Kibo down to Horombo camp bringing our hiking time today to 13 consecutive hours before rest, and I can’t even calculate the vertical distance covered. The way down was a long endless road.


We got to Horombo camp and I could again spell my own name, however I still could not feel my big toe on my left foot. Which by the way I still do not have feeling in today as I type this up. It was not the cold but the pressure of my toenail pushing in to my foot on the way down. But I was at the summit, and I was down without major injury. We slept at 12,000 feet that night, and I had the best night’s rest that I would ever have, I was, I guess I was satisfied.