Altitude: 4600m – 5000m? – 3100m

(This entry is light on pictures and heavy on words…sorry!)

We woke up at 10:30pm, and I was a little tired, but excited. I tried to wear as much as I could, and ended up in:

• Short-sleeve t-shirt
• SmartWool Baselayer top
• Long-sleeve t-shirt
• Fleece
• Ski jacket (with hood)
• Long-john bottoms
• Hiking pants
• Thick SmartWool socks
• Knit cap
• Balaclava
• Ski gloves
• Toewarmers
• Handwarmers
• Headlamp

To save on weight, we removed everything from our packs but water, snacks, and rain gear. We kept our CamelBaks completely in our backpacks, because as we got higher and the temperature dropped, the water in the tube would freeze. Instead, Richard told us he’d stop us for periodic water breaks. After some tea and cookies, we were off, right at 11:30.

It was, of course, pitch black, so we wore our headlamps and hiked single file. Richard led, then came me, then Amanda, and Filbert brought up the rear. Richard carried nothing, but Filbert still carried his large backpack. The trail was immediately steep and switchback-y, but I started out feeling really good. I was most worried about being cold, and I was actually hot, so that was reassuring. As before, I had to keep myself from looking up, and just tried to keep my headlamp trained on Richard’s heels, and just took one step at a time.

The terrain was all steep sand, rocks, and scree, and really seemed neverending. At each water stop, the instant I stopped moving, I’d immediately get chilled, and even after we continued, I never really felt like I warmed up. My steps got slower and slower, and eventually I fell into a lumbering rhythm: breath in and move a trekking pole forward, breath out and take a step. Over and over. Every so often I’d sneak a glance up at the sky, hoping to see the beginnings of sunrise, but the sky stayed dark.

After a while, my stomach started to feel strange, and I thought I might be getting hungry. I made a note to myself to eat a snack at our next water break. Even though I was wearing ski gloves with handwarmers in them, the wind bit right through them, and my fingers started to hurt, so while I was gripping my trekking poles, I was wiggling my fingers to get some feeling int them. Eventually, Filbert took our trekking poles, and I just balled my fists in my gloves in a vain attempt to keep them warm. All the while, the wind was blowing so strongly that it would occasionally make me stumble backwards or to one side. My jacket proved itself to be insufficient for blocking out the wind, and I started to shiver.

At our next water break, I mentioned that I thought I might be hungry, though at this point it has morphed into some unholy hunger/nausea hybrid, so I really wasn’t so sure myself. I drank some water (and sucked some ice into my mouth, despite the CamelBaks being inside our packs), and got out a ‘fun-size’ Snickers bar. When I put it in my mouth, I realized two things: 1) It was frozen, and 2) I was most definitely not hungry. As soon as I bit into it, my stomach churned, and I gamely tried to swallow it, but eventually decided to spit it out instead.

We continued on, and although I had spit the Snickers bar out, there was still bits of chocolate and peanut in my mouth, and every time I swallowed, I would gag a little. Eventually, it was too much, and I bent over and retched. Nothing really came out, but I took the opportunity to spit out the remaining bits of chocolate and peanuts in my mouth, and I actually felt better. Richard immediately was at my side and put his hand on my back and asked me if I was okay. I told him that I was feeling okay, but that I was very cold. Amanda took her rain jacket out of her bag, and Richard and Filbert helped me put it on, in hopes that it would block out the wind. Richard also took my backpack from me.

We continued on, but I knew I was going at a snail’s pace. I was still shivering quite hard, and my stomach had started to heave again. I also felt an odd sort of tired, where I just wanted to lay down and sleep. I even felt my eyes drifting shut as I walked. We walked for another 30 minutes or so, and I had stopped to rest, and Richard turned to me, and asked me what I wanted to do. Amanda asked how far it was to Stella Point, the first major landmark on the way to the summit, and one that would earn you a certificate upon leaving the park. Richard said it was pretty far still.

I looked up and couldn’t see the peak, and I looked out at the sky, and could still see no sign of sunrise. I stood there shivering for a few moments, and I eventually turned it Richard, and said the words that I had been dreading:

“I don’t think I can do it.”

Richard nodded, and said a few words in Swahili to Filbert, and handed him a headlamp. I told Amanda that she should go on, but she said she didn’t want to summit without me. So without much more than that, Filbert looped his right arm around my left, took my hand in his, and we started descending. Fast.

The terrain at this point was all sand and scree, and he took large steps down, doing something inbetween running and sliding, while I slid down on my heels beside him. It was still pitch black outside, and all we could see was what was illuminated with our headlamps. Eventually, he took my headlamp off my head and held it in his left hand to use as a flashlight. I had no idea where we were going, and the combination of the dark and the incredibly fast descent was disorienting. Every so often, he would pause, unsure of which direction to go, so he’d shout up a question to Richard, who was descending with Amanda behind us. Richard would shout down an answer, and we’d keep going. A few times, I asked to stop and rest, and each time we did, Filbert put his arm around my shoulders, and said only, “Breathe. Breathe…”

We must have gone higher than I thought we did, because even as fast as we were going, the descent took much longer than I expected. Eventually the terrain got a little rocky, so Filbert would lower himself down, then reach out his hands to help me down. We walked, and walked, and walked. My knees ached and my stomach turned, but suddenly I looked up, and we were at the back side of our tent.

Filbert sat me down on a rock in front of the tent, and I looked at my watch. I thought that no more than 2-3 hours had passed, so I was surprised to see that it was 5:30am. Filbert brought out a thermos of hot water from his backpack, and made me tea. I drank it, and my stomach protested, but only a little. After a bit, Richard and Amanda arrived. I thanked Richard and Filbert, then we got inside the tent, where I crawled into Amanda’s sleeping bag.

To say I was disappointed would be an understatement. For whatever reason, I had always assumed I’d reach the summit. When Amanda and I talked, we’d always come up with contingency plans for if she got sick and couldn’t summit, and I didn’t, but rarely the reverse. When Amanda zipped the tent flap closed, everything that had happened – and not happened – over the previous six hours hit me, and I cried. Probably partially in frustration and disappointment, and from some part of me, in fear of what could have happened. Eventually I fell asleep, and stayed asleep for a few hours.

When I awoke, I was feeling physically fine, but the disappointment was crushing. I hadn’t made it to Stella Point, much less Uhuru Point. I hadn’t even seen snow. I beat myself up and second-guessed myself. I probably wasn’t that sick, right? I wasn’t hallucinating. I didn’t have a headache. I only threw up once. I was weak. I told myself over and over that I should have just kept going. The logical part of my brain was pretty convinced that it was the right decision to turn around, but the stubborn emotional part of my brain knew that I really wanted to summit. And I didn’t. There were a lot of tears.

Eventually, Richard came by and told us that we should try to eat. We made our way to the mess tent and I had some soup. Richard came by to check on us, and Amanda mentioned that I needed some cheering up. I started to cry again. He put his arm around me and said, “It’s okay, Sha Sha. It’s just a mountain. It will always be there. Life is more important than climbing a mountain.” I pulled myself together, and told him that this just meant I’d have to come back some day and try again. He smiled and said, “We will wait for you.”

After packing up, we started our descent to Mweka Camp, our last campsite. I was feeling better, but still somber, and the descent was absolute murder on the knees. But we followed Filbert down and made it to Mweka without incident. This camp was back in rainforest territory and at a (relatively) low altitude, so that picked up my spirits a bit. I was also glad to be out of the hell hole that was Barafu Camp, which at that point we had renamed ‘The Deathly Hallows.’ Even the porters seemed to be in high spirits, and there was a lot of talking and laughing.

We passed most of the rest of the day by reading from The Little Stranger. While we were in the tent, it started to rain, and we heard one of the porters approach the tent, and dig a little rain trench around it. Just a small reminder at how well taken care of we were. At dinner, Richard came by and we decided to set off the next morning at 7:30am.

Altitude: 3930m – 4600m

Forgot to upload a video from yesterday showing an awesome sunset:

I slept really well that night: 4 hours, then got up to pee, then 4 more hours. That was the most hours of consecutive sleep I got the entire trek. I awoke with a bit of a headache, but I wasn’t sure if it was the altitude, dehydration, or teeth grinding. Whatever the reason, it didn’t bother me too much, and I stepped out of the tent to another beautiful sunrise.

After the usual morning routine of breakfast and packing up, we started on the day’s hike. It was relatively short, but the whole trek very barren and very steep uphill, and it was harder than anticipated. Even going pole pole, I was quite tired when we reached Barafu Camp. The last part of the hike was through strange slate rocks that sounded just like broken glass as you walked through them.

We signed in at the ranger’s hut, then entered the camp site. This camp site was rocky, barren, and extremely windy. Our tent was already pitched, but the porters were struggling to pitch the mess tent.

The campsite was also overrun with mice, which I thought was a little gross, and Amanda thought was terrifying. One even stuck its head in her pocket when she sat on a rock! We had lunch, and realized we had a lot of time to kill. When we were outside the tent, it was freezing and windy, and inside the tent, we were sheltered from the wind, but in direct sunlight, so it got super hot. This basically resulted in us being really, really, bored.

After dinner, Richard came by and said we’d be leaving for the summit at 11:30pm. He also took our sats, and I was at 93% oxygen, with a pulse of 110. This was obviously a little worrying. I think it was partly expected because of the altitude, but earlier in the day, I had started to have asthma problems for some reason. I was taking my inhaler, and while I didn’t feel terrible, I did feel like I wasn’t getting full breaths. Again, it was hard to distinguish the asthma from being at altitude, but it certainly didn’t help. Up until that point, I had been feeling so good, so I started to get a little anxious about the summit attempt. But there was nothing I could do at that point, so we bundled up in our summit clothes, and tried to get some rest.

Altitude: 3950m – 4300m – 3930m

Besides getting up to go to the bathroom (and take pictures), I had another small interruption during the night. I was lying in my sleeping bag when I felt a small tickle on my shoulder. I scratched at it, but it didn’t go away, so I reached under my shirt, and felt something go crunch under my fingers. It was dark so I couldn’t see what it was, so I just pulled it out of my shirt and put it aside. I found it the next morning, and discovered that it was a small spider. Delightful. I also had a strange dream mixing my Kili trip and the DJ Rivals launch, where I somehow ended up at the mall with some Booyah folks, and they asked why I wasn’t in Tanzania. I didn’t have an answer.

I was wide awake by 5:30am, so I waited for it to get light out, and then stepped outside of the tent to check out the morning. As I looked at the peak behind me, and the sea of clouds in front of me, I definitely had one of those ‘how did I get here?’ moments. It just didn’t seem real, and I felt really lucky to have the opportunity to be there on the mountain.

After the usual routine of breakfast, packing up, and purifying water, we were off. An aside about water: each morning, Rajamo, one of the porters (our favorite one), would fill our Camelbaks. The water was from local streams, and I’m pretty sure it was purified in some way (either boiled or treated), but since I’m paranoid, we purified our water with iodine tablets. I totally acknowledge the fact that it didn’t make sense that I would happily drink the hot water they gave us for tea and coffee, but insist on treating the water they filled our Camelbaks with, but Amanda indulged my neuroses in this case.

We reached the base of Barranco Wall shortly, and realized it was a lot less steep than it looked from afar. We started up, and Richard soon caught up. It was rocky uphill trekking for a bit, then after a point, Richard and Filbert asked for our trekking poles because we had to climb. In truth, it wasn’t really climbing, but there were a couple fun moves. The climbing bit didn’t last too long, then it was back to the rocky uphill. After a couple hours, we reached the top, 4300m. At the top, you got a pretty spectacular view of the peak, the clouds over Moshi, and Mount Meri. Even Amanda, who is afraid of heights, agreed that it was awesome.

After a short rest, we started the descent. We went up and down a bit, including some hairy descents on wet rocks, and ended the day with a steep down and uphill across a valley, reaching camp at around 12:15. (Apologies for the fact that I can’t keep feet and meters straight.)

We rested a bit, and then it was time for lunch.

If you couldn’t tell in the video, both Amanda and I were weirdly red-faced that afternoon. Was it altitude? Sun? Not really sure. After lunch, we checked out a cairn on top of a boulder, and I added to it.

We also saw a large femur bone, which was kind of weird. Not sure what kind of animal it belonged to… Since it was still pretty early, we spent a lot of the afternoon reading aloud from The Little Stranger, and it turned into a ghost story! (If you’ve spent any time with me, you probably know that ghosts and I don’t mix.) I got scared but I was also intrigued, so we continued under the agreement that Amanda would have to come with me if I had to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night.

Around 6, Rajamo got us for dinner, which was rice, soup, and veggies. I also asked him for a favor:

Booyah!

After dinner, we enjoyed a nice sunset:

Before bed, Richard briefed us on the next day: trek and camp at 4600m, the rest until the summit attempt. He took our sats, and I was at 97% oxygen, with a pulse of 74, which is pretty close to my pulse at sea level! It rained pretty hard throughout the night, so I went to sleep hoping it would let up by morning.

Altitude: 3840m – 4630m – 3950m

Had another weird sleep night, but on the positive side, I had a dream that I could cure typhoid in animals. Yeah…I don’t know what that was about either. I got up early and watched the sun rise over camp, which was pretty amazing. We were just above the cloud line, and we could see the peak of Mount Meru peeking through the clouds. The temperature must have dropped pretty low during the night, because the ground and our tent was covered in frost. After some more reading from The Little Stranger, we had breakfast, where I realized I could combine everything into a delicious sandwich: toast, eggs, sausages, avocado, and chili sauce, and I had more of my millet porridge + ketchup.

Day 3 was an acclimatization day, which meant climb high, camp low. The day’s hike would take us up to Lava Tower (4630m), which would be the highest altitude we would reach until the summit. We started the day out with Fillbert again, but Richard quickly caught up. The landscape began to turn rocky and barren, and it was apparent that we had moved from moorland into alpine desert. As Amanda and I were walking, I was taking a few pictures, and we were lamenting the fact that it was impossible to capture the landscape in pictures. But then I remembered that I had a FlipCam, and could take some video:

As we gained altitude, the temperature really started to drop, and when we stopped for lunch at the Lava Tower, I had to bundle up with my Smartwool layer, fleece, knit hat, and balaclava. As we approached, Richard mentioned that there were a lot of mice at Lava Tower, and he wasn’t kidding. I sat on a rock and ate, and there were countless mice darting around, looking for food. I didn’t mind them, and I actually thought they were kind of cute, because they had stripes on their back like chipmunks, but Amanda was pretty afraid of them. At one point, two mice ran near her and startled her, and she screamed, while Filbert, Richard, and I laughed. We’re not very nice.

As we finished up lunch, it started to rain, so I put on my pack cover to keep my backpack dry. We started the descent from Lava Tower, which was pretty hard on the knees, and was further complicated by the fact that the ground was icy. At one point Amanda’s hands got really cold, so I swapped my thick ski gloves for her thin liner gloves (see previous entry re: freakish ability to stay warm while exercising) and she felt better. It was slow going, but we eventually made it to Barranco Camp after a total of about 6 or 6 1/2 hours of trekking.

Barranco Camp was probably my favorite camp because it had a spectacular view looking out above the clouds with the peak behind us, while Barranco Wall loomed nearby. At tea and popcorn time, I made another video. A word of warning for those with delicate constitutions: there is talk of pooping.

As I mentioned in the video, both of us were feeling pretty good, even after going up to 4630m. Richard actually had a portable pulse-ox machine, so we had the data to back it up as well. The previous night my oxygen had been at 93%, and my pulse at 100 BPM, but on the 3rd night, my oxygen was up to 97%, and my pulse was 85, which meant my body was starting to adapt to the altitude.

Most nights, we went to bed very soon after dinner, and as a result, I generally had to get up to pee once during the night. That night I got up around midnight, and was greeted with an incredible view of the peak. During the day, it’s mostly obscured by clouds, but it was completely clear then. So after I used the toilet, I got my camera and took some long exposure photos. I think they’re probably the best photos I took the entire climb.

Altitude: 3000m – 3900m – 3840m

Throughout the night, I did indeed confirm that Diamox is a diuretic: I peed right before bed, then got up again to go at 10pm, 2:30am, and 5am. I also discovered that my sleeping bag, while claiming to be rated for 15 degrees F, is a big fat, synthetically-filled liar. The night was cold, but it definitely wasn’t below 15 degrees, and I was freezing. I wore long johns, sweat pants, a t-shirt, a smart wool shirt, fleece, and hat, and I was still cold. When I got into a fetal position in my bag I was pretty warm, but it wasn’t the greatest night of sleep I’ve ever had. A note on sleeping at altitude: as you go higher and higher, your body has access to less and less oxygen. Apparently many people experience periodic breathing at altitude, which are alternating periods of deep breathing and shallow breathing. When your body senses low oxygen, it will increase your breathing, which causes a large drop in carbon dioxide levels in your body. At this point, your breathing becomes very shallow, or even stops for a few seconds, before resuming again. I’m not sure if I experienced periodic breathing, but I do know that throughout the climb, I tended to sleep in 1- or 2-hour increments, wake suddenly, stay awake for 20-30 minutes, then fall back asleep. Whether it was periodic breathing, the cold, sleeping in a strange place, or noise, I’m not sure. But interestingly enough, even with this interrupted sleep, I never felt tired when I woke in the morning. I think part of this is due to the fact that I allowed myself to awake naturally, rather than with an alarm, so I’ve been considering trying this at home. This will either result in me feeling refreshed and happy each morning, or not showing up to work until noon.

We got up at 6, and had our first mountain breakfast: millet porridge, toast & peanut butter, eggs, potatoes, and sausage. I attempted to make the porridge delicious by adding chili sauce, but I don’t recommend that. I did, however, add ketchup to it and I thought it was good. I couldn’t really figure out why I liked it so much, until I had a can of spaghetti-Os when we got back to SF, and realized it tasted exactly like the millet porridge + ketchup. Go figure.

I was not feeling sure I wanted to continue with the Diamox, so I asked Richard his opinion. He said that if I was feeling fine, he recommended not taking the Diamox, because of some of the potential side effects, such as nausea. I didn’t take much convincing after the Night O’ Peein’, so I decided to stop the Diamox, and I didn’t take it again for the rest of the climb.

After breakfast we packed up our bags, and were on the trail at 8:30. We started out with Filbert, the assistant guide. I decided to leave my DSLR in my big backpack (the one the porters would carry), and just use my point-and-shoot, a Canon S90. Even though I probably missed out on some photos, I was glad to be rid of the extra weight, and it was definitely the right decision for me. The first part of the day was pretty much all steep uphill, but we went pole pole, so it wasn’t actually that bad. Eventually Richard joined us and took the lead, and at some point the landscape turned very rocky, and the fog rolled in, which was really beautiful. An aside: my body has a freakish ability to heat itself while I’m doing any sort of physical activity. As a result, even when the weather was cold, I was usually hot while hiking. So, Mom, you’ll see me wearing short sleeves in a lot of these pictures, but rest assured I wasn’t cold.

We took an early lunch, which consisted of a peanut butter & jelly sandwich (with the crust cut off!), juice, a banana, and a hard boiled egg. Richard said he was worried about the weather, but it never rained. We peaked at 3900m, then it was a short descent to camp. Shira Camp is very alien looking — rocky, foggy, and a few scraggly trees. It was a short day (we reached camp around 1pm), so after popcorn and tea, we decided to check out Shira Cave, which is a small cave nearby. On the way, we passed a helipad, which they use for emergency rescues.

Both of us felt a lot better than the day before, which was a good sign. I felt a little headachey during some of the uphill stretches, but I think that was probably dehydration rather than the altitude. I also had some tingling in my fingers, which is one of the more minor side effects of Diamox, though I suppose that might have also been attributable to the altitude or dehydration.

One thing I was not prepared for was the amount of down time on the climb. I stupidly decided to leave my Kindle at the hotel, so between the two of us, we only had one. We decided to take turns reading Sarah Waters’ The Little Stranger out loud, and learned that reading out loud at altitude is quite a slow, laborious, and frankly breathy process, so I definitely regretted not bringing more forms of entertainment.

After a few hours of reading and resting, we had dinner. Every night for dinner, we had some kind of buttery vegetable soup, which sounds gross but was actually quite tasty, but we both got pretty tired of it by the end of the climb. (As I write this, I can actually taste it.) That night was carrot soup along with rice and ‘vegetable sauce’, which appeared to be some combination of peppers, carrots, and onions. Before bed, Richard came by and showed us a map of our route, which was cool and daunting to see.

Altitude: 1800m – 3000m

As before, we weren’t able to sleep very well, probably due to some combination of the heat, excitement/nervousness, and jet lag. After showering, we headed to breakfast, and tried our best to load up, in anticipation of the appetite loss that can come with altitude sickness. At breakfast, we met a Danish group who were also leaving for Kili that morning, but on the Marangu Route, aka Tourist Route, aka Coca Cola Route. After breakfast, we settled our bill, put our passports and cash into a hotel safe deposit box, and put the luggage we weren’t using into storage. I have to say that Springlands Hotel (which is owned by Zara), runs like a well-oiled machine, while somehow also giving off the impression that nobody has any clue what’s going on. It’s pretty impressive.

We waited and watched as the porters loaded up the bus with an impressive amount of gear: backpacks, tents, tons of food, and, I noticed, an oxygen tank. I remember thinking it was good they had it, but hoping very hard that would be the last time we saw it. After the gear was all loaded up, we got on the bus, and we were off. There were a few random stops (we quickly got used to random hotel employees hitching rides with the shuttles and buses), and after maybe 45 minutes, we arrived at Machame Gate, which is at 1800m. Here we got our first taste of people trying to sell us stuff, but we got really good at just saying ‘No, thank you.’ After a bit of paperwork and permits, Richard told us to start off on the trail with one of the porters, and that he would catch up with us later.

Now anyone who’s climbed Kili will tell you that the most common words out of your guide’s mouth are pole pole, which means ‘slowly.’ We had heard this from several people, so we were pretty prepared to take it slow. I think we may have even overdid it, as at one point the porter got fed up, and told us to go a little faster. Eventually Richard caught up with us, and the porter continued on, while we stayed behind at a more reasonable but still quite stately pace. Both of us soon realized that we had overpacked our daypacks, and along with the giant lunchbox they gave me to carry and my 5D + 24-70mm lens, not to mention the 3 liters of water in my Camelbak, I was soon starting to feel the weight. I experimented with different ways of carrying my camera, before discovering that if I looped the strap around my backpack and let my camera hang just below my waist, it was a lot easier to carry. However, having a large camera dangling between my legs also means I got a lot of inappropriate comments from Amanda…

The first day of the Machame Route is all through rainforest, so we were surrounded by flowers, trees, ferns, and chirping birds. And although we were in the rainforest during rainy season, we somehow avoided rain. The day started out with a gradual uphill, but soon continued into some steeper uphills, so I made good use of the trekking poles I had borrowed from Buddy. When we stopped for lunch, I decided to put on my gaiters, since I had somehow gotten my pants all muddy. The lunchboxes they packed for us at the hotel were ridiculously full, but I tried to eat as much as possible, if for no other reason than I didn’t have to carry it anymore. Richard noticed I was fussing with my camera a lot, so he graciously offered to carry it for me the rest of the way.

The day seemed to drag on, and after several hours, I was feeling tired, probably from a combination of the altitude and the uphill hiking. (As a side note, we discovered that there are a lot of toilets along the entire trail. This was a pleasant surprise, as I had been fully prepared to do my business out in the wild, so to speak.) Anyhow, just as I was getting really tired, one of the porters appeared on the trail from the opposite direction, so I knew we were close to camp. This also coincided with a very abrupt landscape change from rainforest into moorland, so I perked up, and the last bit flew by.

We signed in at Machame Hut (we had to sign in at every campsite), and for whatever reason, Richard told us to put in the book that we were staying 6 days, not 7. I don’t know if this is because we delayed a day, or for some other reason, but I trusted him, and put 6 days from then on. When we got to our campsite, we saw that our tent had already been pitched, as well as a mess tent, and…a toilet tent! Apparently among all the other gear, the porters had been carrying a small chemical toilet for us. Talk about luxury! To continue the pampering, they gave us bowls of warm water to wash up, and then hot water with tea and coffee, popcorn and cookies in the mess tent. Yum! Since I had heard that people often have trouble sleeping at altitude, I decided to just have hot water instead of tea or coffee, since I didn’t want the caffeine to keep me up. I also decided to take half a Diamox, even though I was feeling fine, if not a little tired. We rested for a while, then had dinner, then it was time for bed. After a tough first day, I was glad to be done.