Kilimanjaro Lemosho Route Day 6 - The summit
This was the climax of the whole trip, the attempt on the summit. We had all lain in our sleeping bags for about 5 hours, trying to get some sleep, but I don't think any of us managed it. The hours dragged as I lay there hoping I'd drop off. No good. Just wait for the call at 11.00 p.m.
And when it came we had to drag ourselves out of the sleeping bags and quickly pull on our boots and gaiters; gather at the mess tent for a cup of tea and a couple of biscuits; get the hot water from the porters for drinking (there was less chance of it freezing on the way - but I wish I'd taken hot tea rather than water as it kept warm in the rucksack for a couple of hours); sort out our hats and gloves; adjust our head torches on top of the hats; and then get moving. It was midnight, right on schedule. Six hours or so to the crater rim, then another hour or so to the summit.
We'd had some discussion about how many layers to wear - the first section of the climb from Barafu camp was quite steep, over a couple of rock bands where some care was required to keep our footing, and we soon got warm inside our duvet jackets with 2 or 3 layers on our legs. I'd brought my old woollen climbing breeches just for this moment, and they were pretty warm with a pair of thermals on underneath! Did I wear a pair of waterproof overtrousers as recommended? I decided against as it would be just too warm, and add to the effort of bending each knee!
The problem is, of course, if you start to sweat, and then get cold later on, you can get seriously chilled. The slope did ease off after the early steep section and we were - just - too - tired to keep going fast enough to keep warm. We were moving slowly, ever so slowly. The third set of gloves had to go on (in my case an expensive pair of Goretex outer gloves that cost a lot of money - also just for this moment - no doubt I'll get the benefit from them back in Scotland next winter).
Meanwhile, several other groups had started out about the same time, and we could see their headlights bobbing up and down behind us and ahead of us. Nearly all the other campers at Barafu had the same objective, although some would be starting later than us because they expected to climb more quickly. The exceptions were those - like the American group - who intended to cross the crater rim and descend into the crater to camp before climbing to the summit. Their porters would have to go up and set up camp, whereas all the other porters could stay in their beds whilst we went up to the summit and came down again.
We had to take more frequent breaks, and welcomed the rest even though we quickly got even colder. Other groups passed us but it was so dark we could only see their lights and hear their feet trudging past. Then we moved on again and were immediately exhausted, each shuffling step being a great effort.
The head torches really came into their own. I'd never walked like this before, in the pitch dark, but the beam from the Petzl 5-LED torch was quite bright and sufficient to see 5-10 metres ahead. Dermot's more primitive version was giving him less light, but in the dark it all helps. Some of the other walkers passing us didn't have them, and seemed to be relying on their colleagues.
This went on until about 2.30. Then at one of these breaks, Naiman said we needed to split up. Dermot and Dan had been falling behind, and so Naiman told Nemis to take Cedric, Pete and me on ahead. We weren't so sure we wanted to pick up the pace and said so to Nemis, who obliged by slowing down again. Even so, we each felt absolutely wasted. Pete seemed to be falling asleep when we stopped to rest. We were voicing our doubts about getting to the top, asking Nemis how long we had to go, looking for words of encouragement for each other.
My finger tips were getting very cold, and so were my toes now. The most annoying thing was trying to wipe a dripping nose, with each drop feeling like it was freezing. To remove 3 layers of gloves to find a tissue in a pocket whilst on the move and carrying two walking poles was just too much extra hassle and stress when all the effort had to go towards just moving slowly. I had a face flannel which I'd taken to wipe away sweat, tied with a long cord to the top of the rucksack and then tucked inside the top pocket. I hadn't used it as we had never really sweated during the previous 5 days, but now it came into use as a nose wipe, hanging down beside by right elbow within reach. And it worked!
We all seemed to be at our lowest ebb, feeling like falling asleep, just not wanting to go any further. I asked Nemis again, how far we had to go. Another two hours, he reckoned. It was about 4.30. We got moving again, slowly, slowly. It became a bit of a blur. At last, Nemis pointed to some lights up ahead of us, and said they were at Stella Point. Now it seemed as though we might just get there. The slope was getting steeper. On the left there was a faint white glow above us, and we realised it was a glacier on the flank of the mountain. We were getting closer. More slow plodding, one foot after the other.
Then we were there, at the crater rim. Unbelievable after the agony of the previous few hours. The light of dawn was gently illuminating the frosty grey slope and the nearby rocks. Yes, we could see over into the crater with the areas of ice faintly visible. And the line of the crater rim rising up on our left towards the summit, Uhuru Peak, was now clear.
We would have been ecstatic if we had had the energy which that sensation required! But what a sense of relief combined with exhaustion. Pete and Cedric found rocks to sit on. I took out the video camcorder as well as the still camera and recorded the moment. Another couple of walkers were up there on the rim, one of them setting up a camera on a tripod to capture the sunrise. The glow on the horizon was getting brighter, and then the small golden ball of the sun appeared through the upper layer of cloud, and then suddenly lit up the slopes on either side. We could see the jagged outline of the lower peak, Mawenzi, clearly now to the left of the rising sun. We had just made it in time - but really it was perfect timing to experience the sunrise.
Then Nemis steered us towards the summit. We knew we would make it now. It was within reach. The air would begin to warm up. But there was still a slope to climb, over and around rocks and between ridges of icy snow, the remnants of a deep layer that must have covered the crater rim some time ago. The other group of walkers were heading up at the same time, and I was stopping off to take photos. Over to the left were the ice walls of the Rebman Glacier, looking faintly green in the bright horizontal sunlight. Down to the right was a gap in the rim revealing crags overlooking the crater floor - just a grey plateau overlaid in places by icefields.
Now the ridges of ice were higher and just too narrow to walk comfortably between them, so we had to bump our boots around each other to take steps. The slope wasn't steep, just rising in stages, and the distance less than a mile (maybe 1.5 km) from Stella Point to the flat stony summit. There was the noticeboard familiar from other people's photos, proclaiming this as Africa's highest peak and the world's highest free-standing mountain at 5895m. We waited our turn to have our photo taken together in front of the noticeboard, the three of us, then individually with Nemis. We looked around - the icy line of the Southern Icefield ran along on the right, the crater down on the left, with the other glaciated areas of Kibo beyond.
We met the Manchester group up there - they'd all made it - but there was no sign of Dermot and Dan, Naiman and David. We set off back the way we'd come, picking our way between the icy ridges. More than halfway back to Stella Point we saw two familiar figures coming up towards us. It was Naiman and Dermot. David had taken Dan down, affected too much by altitude sickness. Dermot asked to borrow my camera for a picture at the summit, but then I decided I wanted to make the most of the climb and followed them back up to Uhuru Peak. It was just brilliant being up there, taking in the surroundings.
Then it really was time to go down, and it was a slow descent, first to Stella Point and then down to Barafu Camp. That long dusty slope was a bit of a trial - Dermot had exhausted himself getting to the summit and didn't have much energy left to get back down again, so we stopped many times on the way. The gritty volcanic dust was being kicked up by whoever was in front, and blown back towards those following, and my eyes were becoming painfully sore. At times the rocks were at the surface, covered with grit, and we struggled to avoid slipping over. It was now clear to see why it made sense to climb at night-time, when the dust was held in place by frost, otherwise we would all have slipped around in the scree and had real eye problems from dust. The gaiters came into their own as well, keeping small stones out of the tops of our boots.
The last section down the rock bands was easier than I expected, and then we were back at Barafu. Dermot went to his tent to recover. Over lunch I heard about Cedric's fast descent scree-running with Nemis. We got changed out of our warm summit gear, repacked our kitbags for the porters and then three of us set off again with David to descend to the next camp. Dermot and Pete got some rest before following later. Dan, however, was much better after coming back to the camp and getting some sleep, and was remarkably cheerful about the way things had turned out. It was just bad luck for him to be caught out by the effects of altitude.
The route went back through the Barafu camp and down another kilometre to the junction with the circular route we had ascended on. This time we continued straight ahead, on the Mweka Route, which is used only for descent for everyone climbing via Barafu. This was another long dusty stretch down a featureless mountainside for a couple of hours, going at a good pace, before we reached the edge of the moorland and then the Millennium Camp.
Finally we could rest - and get a bottle of beer to celebrate! I'd been needing the loo so it was a relief in more ways than one, and this camp had fairly new toilets of a decent standard. It was a small, relaxing camp spread out among the giant heathers, and we had plenty of time to rest, get washed, and sort out our gear. We were relieved too that we hadn't gone down to the Mweka camp, another hour or so down the mountain, given our tiredness. Dermot and Pete made it down a couple of hours after us and were both in better shape after a rest.
From one corner of the site I was able to get a signal on the mobile phone to send news home of the successful ascent. Later on after supper, before heading off to our tents to sleep, we checked the sheet of guidance from the African Walking Company regarding the tips for the porters and guides which would be handed out in the morning.
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