Are we there yet…...

Millennium Camp – 28^th February

There was a strange atmosphere over lunch, there was undoubtedly a strong sense of satisfaction (and relief) at having reached the summit but already at the limits of exhaustion nobody was relishing the last couple of hours to the Millennium Camp.

Having nibbled away at stale sandwiches eaten (and devoured any remaining chocolate) it was time to head off.

Again aware of the concerned looks we were getting from new arrivals to the camp, fresh and eager ahead of their summit attempts but now wondering just what may lay ahead!

It didn’t take long for us to fall into a familiar rhythm and our spirits began to lift as the gradient became less steep and as the cloud closed in it was possible to start making out some figures coming towards us.

It was a group of our porters who had headed up from the camp to meet us, eager to celebrate our success and help in whatever way they could.

Big smiles, handshakes and high fives provided an amazing boost to our morale along with the news that we had perhaps less than an hour to go.

It’s remarkable what a difference a couple of hours can make but having left Barafu camp resembling an almost broken, shell of a team we now marched tall and proud into the Millennium Camp!

After almost 14 hours on our feet, having climbed 1,200m and descending approximately double that it was with total relief that I found my tent and dropped my rucksack.

Having signed in at the camp (and paid over the odds for four cans of beer) I was eager to join up with the rest of the group to compare notes and wait for our last remaining teammates.

The last I had seen of Georgie and Kate had been at the bottom of the final climb to the summit plateau and whilst I had little doubt they would have made it to the top I could only wonder how much they would have left for the descent.

After an excruciating their arrival, along with confirmation of their success, marked a collective sigh of relief and the start of our celebrations as we tallied up the numbers.

From a group of 20 everyone had reached Stella Point, an amazing achievement and true testament to the determination and patience everyone had shown.

Unfortunately two couldn’t make it any further, one being completely spent with the effort of making it that far and the other almost delirious from the altitude their guide made the only decision really available.

Everyone else had made it all the way to Uhuru Peak, an incredible effort and something that had been all but unimaginable little over a week earlier!

Needless to say celebrations were somewhat muted, wine and whisky had been saved for the occasion and was dutifully drunk but otherwise it was early nights and a well earned rest for our weary limbs.

What goes up……...

Millennium Camp – 28^th February

Slowly, grudgingly we began our descent but high (quite literally) with our success we were able to absorb a lot more of the experience than we had on the way up.

The views were quite simply stunning, I’d become accustomed to photos of a snow capped Kibo but being here it was almost impossible to relate those images to the towering glaciers we were now walking past.

 This photo keeps amazing me and then I remember that I TOOK IT!

Now working with gravity rather than against it, made the descent to Stella Point comparatively easy where we took a few moments to contemplate the path ahead.

 Looking back to Uhuru Peak from Stella Point.

The angle and the shape of the slope made the route seem almost impossibly steep and complete with deep piles of scree and sand you just knew that there was still plenty of hard work left to be done.

It's almost like the tipping point at the top of a rollercoaster! 

But our nagging headaches were a constant reminder of the altitude and so knowing the only way to clear these would be to descend as quickly as possible we resigned ourselves to whatever the next few hours would bring.

The best way forward is with big confident steps, sometimes bounding into welcoming piles of sand whilst at others almost “skiing” across a wave of tumbling scree.

 Jas & Raj, slowing down but still going!

It can be immense fun but it also requires a huge amount of focus and energy so after a few near falls and untidy slips it was perhaps inevitable that our progressed slowed.

It took us little over an hour to descend what had taken us the entire morning (and night) to climb and as we broke through the 5,000m mark our heads began to clear the “thickening” of the air was almost tangible.

We thought we had broken the back of the descent as the gradient began to ease off but the as the cloud broke we caught our first glimpse of the brutal descent standing between us and our “lunch break” at Barufu Camp.

The scree had gone but had been replaced with boulders and rocks making the descent exhausting at best and treacherous at worst.

A familiar silence descended over us as we each focussed on the task at hand and searched for the strength to meet this new challenge.

I’m not sure what we must have looked like but I doubt we provided much inspiration to the trekkers based at Barafu camp (ahead of their forthcoming summit attempts) as we trudged wearily towards the flattest spot available before collapsing and tucking into a well earned lunch!

The Snows of Kilimanjaro……

Millennium Camp – 28^th February

To say we left Stella Point with a renewed energy and enthusiasm would be a slight exaggeration but there was a definite lift that came with the knowledge that there was now a little over 100m height left to gain.

 It was hard to appreciate the amazing glaciers whilst

fighting our way towards the summit.

It’s hard to find the words to describe the effect of the altitude but breathing with the lack of oxygen is almost like drinking a very watery soup, the taste is there but it’s just not very satisfying!

Aside from the lingering headache your ability to concentrate is also diminished and even simple tasks require a significant amount of effort.

Confusion reigned supreme as we approached the final climb which is neither particularly long nor steep.

In my training I’d run up trickier hills without too much trouble but confusion reigned supreme as I attempted to reconcile that knowledge with the near insurmountable obstacle that now lay before me.

Our pace by this point was little more than a shuffle and with each of us embroiled in our own battle it was impossible to offer any further support than your own gasping breath and the crunch of your boots on the snow.

Finally we crested the ridge and there it was, a tantalising 300 yards away, was the summit.

 Possibly the most welcome sight in the world?

In a burst of adrenaline I forged ahead, almost collapsing on the “step” beneath the sign, watching Jas and Raj making their final, weary but triumphant steps.

Without barely a word being spoken we took a few moments to sit in silence allowing the enormity of our achievement to sink in.

 Silence is golden.

Our guide, Emanuel, must have witnessed this moment dozens of times but appeared genuinely thrilled to have shared this journey with us and once again was leading the way but this time with handshakes and photos!

 Jas, me and Raj feeling pretty pleased with ourselves!

About 15-20 minutes after our own arrival the next group of Kids Co summiteers, including to my delight, a tearful Nerissa turned up.

 With our summit guide Emanuel (and an emotional Nerissa)!

Their arrival was marked by more boisterous celebrations than our own and soon it was time for us to slowly, almost grudgingly, begin our long descent.

  

Looking towards the crater from Uhuru Peak.

Our delayed start had meant that for almost 20 minutes we had the summit to ourselves allowing us the time to savour our moment in this special place.

The Summit Team……

Millennium Camp – 28^th February

Amongst the buzz and excitement I managed to find a spot to sit and rest my aching legs and enjoy a quiet moment to allow the situation to sink.

I felt a gentle tap on my shoulder and looked up to see the smiling face of one of our guides, Bobby, and a steaming cup of sweet tea reaching out towards me.

It proved the perfect remedy to my flagging spirits and knowing that any rest was destined to be short lived on this small windswept perch I picked myself up for my first look about as the others began to leave.

To my right was a breathtaking collection of glaciers, made up of blue/green ice and rising up in tiers they appeared almost cathedral like (or a suitable lair for a megalomaniac villain from a Bond film).

 Welcome Mr Bond!

However as uplifting as the view in that direction was my hopes were soon dashed as I turned my gaze to the left.

On paper, once you’ve reached Gillmans Point you have effectively “beaten” the best the mountain has to offer all that remains is a relatively straightforward walk with a few minor ascents to reach the summit.

However mountains aren’t climbed on paper and with my lungs screaming for oxygen and the wind doing its best to suck the air out of my mouth I could feel my heart sink as I scanned the route to the summit plateau.

 The summits at the high point of that ridge, easy right?

Reminding myself that if I could make it to this point I could sure as hell make it the rest of the way I looked at the path ahead and spotted my “boys” and original “A-Team” members Jas and Raj.

I’d really enjoyed their company throughout the trek and having started out with virtually no experience of mountains it had been watching them grow in strength and confidence that had made me want to be part of their group.

Looking back Nerissa appeared to be enjoying the support and attention she was getting from the guides so deciding I had done all I could for her I kicked on and spent the next 20 mins catching up with the guys.

When I did catch up I’m not sure who was happier them or me, but as we closed in on Stella Point, the final “checkpoint” before the top, there was a tangible uplift in all our spirits now that our summit team was in place!

 The Summit Team at Stella Point

(and wearing pretty much everything we had)!

“It’s supposed to be hard”……

Millennium Camp – 28^th February

Reaching the Hans Meyer cave brought with it a very welcome break and because we had delayed our start we were treated to possibly the most majestic sunrise yet with the jagged edges of Mawenzi in the background and the sharp yet barren slope we had just climbed beneath us.

 After hours walking in the dark, the first hint of light.

Doing my rounds having a few words with everyone (hard to manage much more in the thin air), I noticed Nerissa crouched with a nearby guide offering a supportive arm.

As I approached it was evident that she was in a bit of a state and there were tears streaming down her face as she looked at me, “It’s too hard” were the words I could barely hear above the wind.

My response was typically sympathetic and understanding, “Of course it’s hard, it’s supposed to be hard which is exactly why we’re here!”

My extended hand was gratefully grasped as we pulled Nerissa back to her feeand the Kids Co train was on the move again.

 Sunrise behind Mawenzi.

The next half hour was a nightmare as we cycled through cajoling, ordering and at times simply pushing Nerrisa up the slope until her desperation and thoughts of quitting gave way to those of resignation and submissive compliance allowing us to settle once more into a weary trudge.

“As the bird flies” the ascent from Hens Mayer Cave to Gilmans point covers little over a kilometre but a relentless series of zig zags/switchbacks across the scree slope means that the distance covered is closer to 3.5km.

We watched the rest of the group stretch out across the slope as the guide and I tried to coax Nerissa through each leg.

Desperately we searched for a pace that would ensure we could make it to the next turn before having to rest until eventually our rhythm improved and we began to catch up.

 Laura & Mish in their Hi Vis gear (courtesy of a star sponsor) 

at the Hans Meyer Cave

Far ahead I could make out the lead group from the Kids Company, tantalisingly close to reaching Gilmans Point and the end of this brutal climb.

Willing them to make it, if for no other reason than to prove it was possible I watched with increasing horror as over the next hour I kept looking up expecting to see that they had disappeared from view but instead discovering they had simply reversed direction as the ticked off another switchback.

The reason for this soon became clear as the sign heralding Gillmans Point came into view the track (?!) steepened, the height of the steps increased and the real work began.

If the previous four hours had seemed tough it was nothing compared to what lay ahead over the next sixty minutes.

In the rarefied air our lungs gasped for any oxygen that was available as our already slow progress ground to a near halt and for the first time I found myself entertaining the notion of failure.

 Looking back down the path we'd walked up

(I'd long given up looking at what lay ahead)

I wondered whether I had the strength, the courage and the heart to go on and as I fought against the unnatural tempo of Nerissas stop/start pace I wondered if my decision to help her may prove my undoing.

Drawing deep into my reserves I recalled my own advice and focussed on the text message I wanted to send Claire and focussed entirely on the usually simple act of planting one foot in front of the other.

Just as I was reaching the point of exasperation I stepped up and felt a biting increase in the wind chill cutting into my face.

Having long given up looking up to what lay ahead I raised my eyes and there was the sign congratulating us on reaching Gillmans Point and better still were the smiling, celebratory faces of our team mates.