Kilimanjaro: The whole story

Disclaimer: Not recommended to eat while reading this posting, some graphic descriptions of ailments experienced on the mountain. I may also add a few details in the coming days as the memories resurface.

Background info: Erik, Eric (Erik’s dad) and I booked the climb with Nature African Safari (NAS), a popular company among Mondo volunteers. The day before, we decided to eat “safe” in order not to get sick. We had lunch at McMoody’s, a western restaurant, and I ordered the Serengeti Hot and Spicy pizza, which was excellent on the way down. It kept me up all night, however, and got a pretty serious case of the “shits”, as the Americans so poetically call it.

Day 1: NAS was supposed to pick us up at 9am, but as with everything in Africa, we did not get going until 11am. I purchased some digestion pills before leaving Arusha and it mostly solved my problem so I was tired but plugged up… We finally reach the base camp of Kilimanjaro around 1:30pm and were handed a lunch box containing a cheese sandwich and an orange. We then begin the long walk to the top. Our guide was nowhere to be found, however, so we trekked up on our own. The first day is a 3-hour long walk through a humid tropical forest. We reached Maramba camp in 2.5 hours and all felt fine. Dinner was served and all enjoyed it. It consisted of pasta and brown sauce containing beef morsels. We then hit the bunks, and shared our lodge Aly, a recently graduated Harvard PHD student in biology whom recently accepted an associate position with Boston Consulting Group. We had a fascinating discussion and slept very well.

Day 2: After breakfast, we began our second day of walking and made it to Horombo camp in 4.5 hours including lunch, which is a full hour ahead of schedule. Again, our guide did not stay with us so we just walked on our own, which is against park guidelines and common sense. We were all very proud of our accomplishments. The piece de resistance of our lunch was a “blue band” margarine sandwich, with about an inch of margarine slapped between every layer. We politely discarded the item and figured we would get something different the next day. Our dinner was identical to the first day’s, with the exception of the meat, which was removed from the sauce. I felt fine until bedtime (7:30pm), at which point all hell broke loose. I could not sleep and felt poisoned. Around 11:00, I stepped out of the cabin and stuck my finger in my throat to make myself vomit, to no avail. I went back to the cabin and waited patiently in my sleeping bag for something to happen… Around 3am, I ran to the outhouse and experienced the most powerful diarrhea ever, almost lifting off from the pressure. After a few more trips during the night, the sun finally came out and it was time to start the third day.

Day 3: Feeling queasy and tired, I swallowed a couple of Cipro pills, a powerful antibiotic, and felt a bit better. We took off at the same pace as the previous days but I was rapidly approached by a wonderful French couple on their honeymoon, Isabelle et Emanuelle, who have much trekking experience. We started talking and they advised me to considerably slow my pace down to better acclimatize to the altitude. I ended up walking the entire way up to Kibo huts with them, very “Poleh Poleh” or slowly slowly. While Erik and his dad completed the journey in 4 hours, we took a full 6 hours to reach our destination. They taught me much about Acute Mountain Sickness, as well as sharing many interesting stories about various subjects. After catching up with my climbing partners, we were served the same damn thing as the other nights. By then, simply thinking about that sauce made me nauseous. Knowing that we would be awaken at midnight for the final ascent, I had very little to eat and went to sleep around 6pm. At 4700m above sea level, with little time to acclimatize, it is extremely difficult to sleep.

Day 4 (aka Hell Day): Our guides woke us up at 12:30am but breakfast was not served, at least I did not see it. With an empty stomach and little sleep in the last 48 hours, I strapped my boots on, clothed myself with everything I owned and loaded my headlamp with fresh batteries. I could already feel the symptoms of altitude sickness, including nausea and headaches. After swallowing 3 Tylenols, I was ready for the worst night of my life. We formed a single line and started ascending in a zigzag pattern as the final ascent is very steep and slippery. We would stop every half hour or so to drink and rest for a minute. Any more and we started freezing, as the temperatures are below the freezing point at that altitude. I struggled to keep my eyes open and my only objective was to follow our guide as closely as possible. Erik and his dad had small maglights, and their batteries ran out about halfway up the climb. Being equipped with a Petzl LED-powered headlamp, I was our quasi-only source of light so they followed my every step. Baba Eric vomited from the effort, the exhaustion and the altitude, but was a real trooper and kept on going. At that point, I swallowed an extra 2 Tylenols. The temptation to give up and go back to the warm hut and denser oxygen is extremely difficult to resist, but I had committed myself to succeeding or trying again in a few years. Not wanting to have to go through this exercise again, turning around was not an option. After about 5.5 hours of ascent, we finally reached Gilman’s point at 5685m a. s. l. We observed the sunrise and Baba Eric decided that he had enough and went back down with the guide. After taking 2 more Tylenols (7 in total) Erik, the assistant-guide and I continued our walk around the crater to reach Uhuru Peak, the highest point in Africa, standing at 5895m. At that altitude, it is extremely difficult to breath so I would take 20 to 50 baby steps and stop to catch my breath. After 1.5 hours around the crater and admiring the ice caps, we finally reached Uhuru Peak. I cried of joy when I reached the summit, thinking about what I have gone through and proud of my determination. We snapped a few pictures and “skied” back down to Kibo Huts in less than 2 hours. After having experienced close to 6000m in altitude, 4700m is like being at sea level, so as soon as I hit my bunk, I slept for 2 hours. Around noon, the guide woke us up as we had to continue our descent to Horombo before sunset. Erik and his dad were extremely weak and sick that point, so I decided to take off with the assistant-guide. Fuelled by the excitement of success, I almost jogged back to Horombo and reached the camp in little less than 2 hours! I had reached my objective and Hell Day was behind me, so I almost felt invincible at that point. After skipping dinner once more because of a complete disgust towards the same sauce and pasta, I went to bed and slept very well.

Day 5: I woke with extremely sore legs and a very painful left knee and right ankle. What was supposed to be an easy walk down to base camp via Maramba camp turned out to be an agonizing stagger. After reaching Maramba, I was wondering whether I was destroying my knee with every step. I spoke to the park ranger and he offered to give me a ride from the last pick-up point to base camp. I therefore skipped the last hour of walk and got a cool off-road ride in a shiny Toyota LandCruiser. Upon reaching base camp, we were awarded our Uhuru certificates and waited an hour for our driver to show up. The drive back to Arusha was rather uneventful, except when the assistant-guide asked to stop for a toilet brake. The front-left disk-pad stuck down and the car rapidly filled with smoke. I thought the whole dala dala was on fire, but the driver was not impressed and we kept on going as if it never happened… Gotta love African safety standards!

Enjoy the pictures!