KILIMANJARO MOUNTAIN - ALEC'S EGO TRIP
Kilmanjaro is the highest mountain in Africa and we drove past it, though did not see it, on our trip to Arusha to go to the Serengeti. Alec hankered after at least an attempt to climb it, being so near and in order to fulfil a long held desire to climb it if the opportunity ever presented itself. So it was now or never! He did climb it, to the crater rim at Gilman’s Point at 5685m and saw a beautiful sun rise for his trouble.
History
Kilimanjaro is a dormant volcanic mountain in Tanzania, the highest in Africa at 5895m (19338ft), known as the ‘Roof of Africa’. It was first climbed in 1889 by Hans Meyer who was a geology professor and the son of a wealthy editor from Leipzig at his fourth attempt. It is worth noting that Meyer did not begin his walk on the mountain, as today’s visitors do, but in Mombasa, 14 days by foot away!
Then there was the snow and ice, so much more prevalent in the late 1800s on Kili than it is today. Above 4500m Meyer had to trek upon snow for virtually the whole day, even though his route up Kibo from the Saddle is not too dissimilar to that taken by the vast majority of the thousands of trekkers every year – and the one that I took.
Why Climb it?
‘Because it is there’ as Edmund Hillary once famously said in a throw away comment. In his case by achieving the first ascent of Everest with Sherpa Tenzing Norgay he has achieved immortality. His timing was perfect, with the news reaching the world on the morning of the Queen’s Coronation on 2nd June 1952, as those of us of a certain age remember well. He has since devoted his life to helping the Nepalese people.
For this mere mortal, it was the personal challenge, maybe the ultimate achievement, my Everest. I have loved mountain walking all my life, starting in the English Lake District where I was lucky enough to live for four years in the late 1960’s and early 70’s, working on the motorway contracts, linking England to Scotland. Also climbed all the highest peaks in the UK as well as a few long distance footpaths.
On group walking holidays, twice I have been over 4000m, Mt Toubkal in the Moroccan Atlas Mountains at 4167m and Mt Kinabalu in Sabah, East Malaysia, N. Borneo, at 4101m the highest in SE Asia. On both of these climbs I discovered to my surprise that I become very short of breath above 3000m, no distress or altitude sickness but I have to go very slowly to control my breathing. Possibly due to being naturally rather anaemic, like my mother who took iron tablets for most of her life. On both I reached the top but about twenty minutes slower than anyone else in our party.
So part of the challenge was, could I physically cope with the height? I reckoned that my fused and bionic ankles were not going to stop me, perhaps only make it a little harder and me even more breathless. Walking up overnight, which is the traditional way on these mountains, in order to see the sunrise, concerned me as my night sight is abysmal, since a detached retina in my only good eye over 20 years ago. The joke is that I only married Cherry in order to get a built in night driver. For this reason I chose to walk up on the night of the full moon on 10th Feb.
The germ of an idea to climb Mt Kilimanjaro first came during a wonderful walking holiday in northern Thailand in 1993, around the villages surrounding Chang Mai, near the Burmese border. There was a 65 year old lady in the party who had climbed Kili the year before, she said with no real difficulty. She said she went very slowly, used the time and that some in her group, young, fit lads went too quickly, suffered altitude sickness and did not make it. She was always at the back of the group but never held us up and so the seed was sown. She was an amazing lady, a circus performer in her youth, a contortionist who could bring her legs over her head while lying face down on a table! And she was still fit enough to do a standing somersault for us. She had cured herself of rheumatoid arthritis by never having any food or drink with acid – no meats or any fruits and no alcohol, so that she seemed to exist on a just a few nuts and water.
I have now lived in Africa since 2000, first in Egypt, then Nigeria and home has been South Africa since 2004. But Cherry and I are now leaving Africa, maybe for many years and we were so close to the big mountain, driving past it on the way to Serengeti, that it was now or never. It broke our touring budget somewhat but Cherry agreed that I should go for it. She elected to travel with me and stay at Pepe’s restaurant and guest house, where she was the only guest, so a little lonely but very well looked after.
Preparation
We made the booking with Shidolya as soon as we arrived back from Serengeti, so I had about two weeks to prepare myself. Tanga is very flat, so no hills to walk up, so training was just time spent on my feet, walking into town in the heat of the day, up to six hours. Also swimming in the Tanga YC bay every other day, for up to an hour.
Back to Arusha
We took the eight hour bus ride to Arusha, an earlier bus than last time and it was the worst bus ever with a cowboy African driver. The bus had no springs to speak of and the driver barely seemed to slow down for the many traffic humps, so there was a resounding crash every time, with a shock wave running up your spine. The delights of African public transport!
We went straight to the Shidolya offices in Arusha, paid our dues and it appeared later that the team was only arranged after that. Freddy, my guide received a phone call and he arranged the cook and two porters.
Climbing Starts
Shidolya had chosen the Marangu Route, as being one of the easier of the six possible routes. They also recommended an extra acclimatisation day at Horombo Hut at 3720m.
Porters carry everything, including my big rucksack and all our food, pots and pans, small kerosene cooker etc. It is a hard way to earn a living but it seems to be the only work available. Naturally most are very young, still in their twenties though some of the guides are older, the oldest being Freddy’s dad still going strong in his 60’s, who we met on the way down.
Simon our cook was superb. Excellent meals cooked in very primitive conditions. They are properly trained and get a qualification in order to practice as cooks with tour groups. The Serengeti was the same. Always porridge for breakfast, followed by egg and sausage and toast. Normally a packed lunch ate on the side of the track and a cup of tea and biscuits as soon as we arrived at the next camp in mid afternoon. Evening meals always started with a tasty and warming vegetable soup, followed by stew or chicken with lashings of rice or noodles and vegetables, then fruit to follow. As much tea and hot chocolate as we wanted.
One of the porters, Manisi, acted as my personal waiter and valet. He woke me each morning, with a bowl of warmed water in which to wash, laid out my meal table and brought me all my meals. He was very attentive and looked after me well.
The team rely almost totally on tips for their wages, despite the statement on the Shidolya programme that wages are all covered in the basic cost. Over the 6 days, they naturally become your friends, so there is no way you can leave them without a living wage for their efforts to get you up the mountain. Shidolya suggested daily amounts totted up to over $300, way beyond what we expected! However I paid what we could afford – struggling as we are to live on falling Rands and pounds! – and they were happy with that.
Park fees are very high, at $650 for the 6 days, so over half the basic cost of $1200, then $200 for food, plus $100 for transport, plus office overheads left next to nothing for the climbing team.
Day 1
First day was an easy 3.5 hours, starting after lunch, walking very slowly up to Mandara Hut at 2700m. A lovely gentle walk up through the trees, walking through shafts of sunlight.
For the first time I used two walking sticks, which Shidolya had thoughtfully provided. They made a huge difference, helping me to maintain balance and also to assist my poor legs in pushing me forwards. At the camp, there must have been about 50 other walkers, mainly housed in wooden cabins, max. 4 to a cabin. Some had big tents, which have to be carried up and down for each trip, which is crazy!
After supper Freddy called me outside to see four colubus monkeys playing in the trees, a lovely and surprising site, beautifully recorded on the camera.
Day 2
Six hour walk to Horombo Hut at 3700m. We soon were out of the trees, which generally stop at 3000m in the tropics and for me this was the start of beginning to breath deeply to get enough oxygen into my lungs. Everyone is exorted to walk ‘pole pole’ – ‘slowly slowly’, pronounced ‘poorly poorly’. Apart from ‘Jumbo’, which is the universal greeting in Swahili, ‘pole pole’ also became the regular refrain from the many porters rushing past. Gradually it became cooler as we gained height and I was pleased I had taken Freddy’s advice to forsake my shorts in favour of long trousers. Then it rained for the last hour or so, cold light rain, which became heavier and more consistent after we arrived. So no view of Kilimanjaro, which up to that point I had not even seen!
Day 3
A rest day or practice as I termed it. We were supposed to walk to Zebra Rock but as that only took an hour, I insisted to Freddy that we carry on. We walked for another 1.5 hours, right to the top of the saddle between Mwenzi and Kilimanjaro and had a beautiful view of the mountain, though the top was in cloud, as nearly always. I felt good and even reached an estimated height of 4300m, higher than ever before. We could see Kibo Hut, where we were to go the next day and it did not seem so far away.
Day 4
Six hour walk to Kibo Hut at 4600m. Freddy and I left as usual at 8.00am, one of the first and immediately had to walk steeply uphill, which was hard going and not a good start to a long day. As we came over the first initial rise, for the first time we had a cloudless view of the mountain, which we would have for most of the morning, until the clouds inevitably came up from the valley to obscure the top. There was snow at the summit and she looked majestic, with very steep sides, apparently all round, so also looked fairly impregnable. A strong cold wind came up and we were glad to find sheltered rocks behind which to have an early lunch.
After another break for rest and water, we could see Kibo Hut in the distance but it was very hard work getting there, the lack of oxygen really beginning to tell and for that last hour I was very slow indeed. But as always, as soon as I stopped and recovered my breath I was fine and in our dormitory of six, only two of us, the two slowest, had no affects of altitude. Headaches, sickness and light headedness but all made it to the top the following day.
After a cup of tea, we all attempted to rest, in preparation for the overnight walk. Then an early evening meal and more rest until we were woken at 11.pm, although I failed to sleep at all.
Day 5
This was to be the big day. After our midnight feast of tea and dry biscuits, we all wrapped up warm, six layers in my case, plus gloves and woolly hat and scarf. We set off at 11.45pm on a beautiful moonlit night, ‘pole pole’ of course. In my case that meant slower than anyone else, though we were with other groups until near the top and quite a few did not make it at all. We zig-zagged our way up the very steep slope, all covered in snow. I tried without my borrowed head torch but could not see well enough, then the torch gave out, so Freddy kindly lent me his and he did without. Initially I wore my distance glasses but they kept steaming up with all the deep breathing, such that at times I could not see and became disorientated, even prodding my trusty sticks into fresh air a couple of times and nearly over-balancing. So we soon stopped to take them off.
The moon kept disappearing as cloud came over and part of the time we were climbing in falling snow, which left a fine covering over the mountain and the valley below. Accompanying the snow was an icy wind and my inadequate woollen gloves did not keep my hands warm, so at every stop I swung them around my body to get feeling back into them.
As we climbed higher, we went slower, with me having to keep stopping to recover my breath but as soon as I did so, I felt OK and ready to carry on. Then near the top we came to a particularly steep area, straight up the slope in soft ground and I kept sliding and making no progress, collapsed, breathless, exhausting myself. I really began to think I might be overstraining my old body! However, after a few minutes rest and more water (water is very important as you climb higher) I felt ready for another try and gradually made progress onto firmer ground.
Then it became light and such a difference and suddenly knew I could make it. We eventually reached the boulder barrier which surrounds the top and it was a confident scramble and suddenly we were there. Freddy and I threw our arms around each other and celebrated with others we had got to know on the way, including one from our dormitory who did amazingly well, as he was really suffering the night before with sickness and light-headedness.
We had taken exactly seven hours to get there, instead of the regulation five but no matter. Fortuitously we were just in time for the sunrise, a wondrous sight and I have a photo to prove it. We had reached Gillman’s Point 5685m on the southern side of the crater. We looked into the crater but saw nothing, just cloud.
After enjoying our achievement in climbing the mountain, the option was to carry onto Uhuru Rock, the very highest point, which Freddy initially suggested and would take 4-5 hours round trip, boulder hopping across snow covered boulders, which at the best of times I find slow and difficult. We took two steps towards Uhuru and my brain immediately clicked into gear and said “No More”!! I realised by this time, once I had relaxed, that I was very tired, near to exhaustion and was very well satisfied with reaching the crater rim. So a quick chat and we decided we should go down.
Amazingly there were comms just below the summit and on a very bad line I was able to ring Cherry and tell her I had made it! A very emotional moment and she said she had been waiting up, hoping I would be able to call.
Descent
Like most walkers, I hate descending, as it puts terrible strain on the leg joints, though if you can gently jog down the steep slope, as many did, it does help. I can no longer run or jog to save my life and all of the strain is taken by knees and thighs, almost none of my nearly useless ankles. My sticks worked overtime all the way down, slowing me down and helping me to place my foot every time, as any trip or jump sends a shock wave right through my body. So we slowly made it down back to Kibo Hut, the patient Freddy having to wait endlessly for me as I went at my own sedate pace and made it back in three hours, very tired but very satisfied. Great to find that all the others in our dormitory had also made it, a couple also able to make Uhuru as well – and still be back before me, very much the old man of the party.
After a brunch I was allowed an hour’s rest and then it was off again on the slow slog back to Horombo Hut. Legs gradually unstiffened as they warmed but it was a horrible trip, legs quickly getting like jelly and every little jarring making it worse. I always knew this would be very difficult, starting again after nearly exhausting oneself earlier in the day, when all your body wanted to do was lie down and sleep! Last couple of hours were some sort of agony and again poor Freddy had to endlessly wait for me, but finally we made it in about four hours.
At Horombo Hut they immediately gave me my meal and I went straight to bed and slept the sleep of the dead for eight hours. One of the effects for me and others of altitude is that one’s waterworks go into overdrive and about every three hours one wakes up and a quick visit to water the garden outside is required. Fortunately this is only a temporary affliction and this private matter has now returned to normal function, Cherry is pleased to hear. Thought you would all like to know about that!
Next morning, fully recovered, said our goodbyes to the porters and our last look at Kilimanjaro in close-up and set off for the long walk to the entrance gate. Felt good on this trip and it took us six hours to walk at a good pace for me all the way. We met Simon at the gate, who had unexpectedly prepared a cooked lunch for me instead of the usual pack up. After an interminable delay sorting out a park payment problem – Shidolya had only paid them for five days instead of six, finally we were off but not before Shidolya had presented me with a bottle of Champagne for reaching the top, which was a nice touch.[u1] Also an official certificate, saying I had climbed Mount Kilimanjaro to Gilman’s Point at 5685m.
For a few photos CLICK HERE
For some pictures of Alec’s climb of Kilimanjaro please click here
Kilmanjaro is the highest mountain in Africa and we drove past it, though did not see it, on our trip to Arusha to go to the Serengeti. Alec hankered after at least an attempt to climb it, being so near and in order to fulfil a long held desire to climb it if the opportunity ever presented itself. So it was now or never! He did climb it, to the crater rim at Gilman’s Point at 5685m and saw a beautiful sun rise for his trouble.
History
Kilimanjaro is a dormant volcanic mountain in Tanzania, the highest in Africa at 5895m (19338ft), known as the ‘Roof of Africa’. It was first climbed in 1889 by Hans Meyer who was a geology professor and the son of a wealthy editor from Leipzig at his fourth attempt. It is worth noting that Meyer did not begin his walk on the mountain, as today’s visitors do, but in Mombasa, 14 days by foot away!
Then there was the snow and ice, so much more prevalent in the late 1800s on Kili than it is today. Above 4500m Meyer had to trek upon snow for virtually the whole day, even though his route up Kibo from the Saddle is not too dissimilar to that taken by the vast majority of the thousands of trekkers every year – and the one that I took.
Why Climb it?
‘Because it is there’ as Edmund Hillary once famously said in a throw away comment. In his case by achieving the first ascent of Everest with Sherpa Tenzing Norgay he has achieved immortality. His timing was perfect, with the news reaching the world on the morning of the Queen’s Coronation on 2nd June 1952, as those of us of a certain age remember well. He has since devoted his life to helping the Nepalese people.
For this mere mortal, it was the personal challenge, maybe the ultimate achievement, my Everest. I have loved mountain walking all my life, starting in the English Lake District where I was lucky enough to live for four years in the late 1960’s and early 70’s, working on the motorway contracts, linking England to Scotland. Also climbed all the highest peaks in the UK as well as a few long distance footpaths.
On group walking holidays, twice I have been over 4000m, Mt Toubkal in the Moroccan Atlas Mountains at 4167m and Mt Kinabalu in Sabah, East Malaysia, N. Borneo, at 4101m the highest in SE Asia. On both of these climbs I discovered to my surprise that I become very short of breath above 3000m, no distress or altitude sickness but I have to go very slowly to control my breathing. Possibly due to being naturally rather anaemic, like my mother who took iron tablets for most of her life. On both I reached the top but about twenty minutes slower than anyone else in our party.
So part of the challenge was, could I physically cope with the height? I reckoned that my fused and bionic ankles were not going to stop me, perhaps only make it a little harder and me even more breathless. Walking up overnight, which is the traditional way on these mountains, in order to see the sunrise, concerned me as my night sight is abysmal, since a detached retina in my only good eye over 20 years ago. The joke is that I only married Cherry in order to get a built in night driver. For this reason I chose to walk up on the night of the full moon on 10th Feb.
The germ of an idea to climb Mt Kilimanjaro first came during a wonderful walking holiday in northern Thailand in 1993, around the villages surrounding Chang Mai, near the Burmese border. There was a 65 year old lady in the party who had climbed Kili the year before, she said with no real difficulty. She said she went very slowly, used the time and that some in her group, young, fit lads went too quickly, suffered altitude sickness and did not make it. She was always at the back of the group but never held us up and so the seed was sown. She was an amazing lady, a circus performer in her youth, a contortionist who could bring her legs over her head while lying face down on a table! And she was still fit enough to do a standing somersault for us. She had cured herself of rheumatoid arthritis by never having any food or drink with acid – no meats or any fruits and no alcohol, so that she seemed to exist on a just a few nuts and water.
I have now lived in Africa since 2000, first in Egypt, then Nigeria and home has been South Africa since 2004. But Cherry and I are now leaving Africa, maybe for many years and we were so close to the big mountain, driving past it on the way to Serengeti, that it was now or never. It broke our touring budget somewhat but Cherry agreed that I should go for it. She elected to travel with me and stay at Pepe’s restaurant and guest house, where she was the only guest, so a little lonely but very well looked after.
Preparation
We made the booking with Shidolya as soon as we arrived back from Serengeti, so I had about two weeks to prepare myself. Tanga is very flat, so no hills to walk up, so training was just time spent on my feet, walking into town in the heat of the day, up to six hours. Also swimming in the Tanga YC bay every other day, for up to an hour.
Back to Arusha
We took the eight hour bus ride to Arusha, an earlier bus than last time and it was the worst bus ever with a cowboy African driver. The bus had no springs to speak of and the driver barely seemed to slow down for the many traffic humps, so there was a resounding crash every time, with a shock wave running up your spine. The delights of African public transport!
We went straight to the Shidolya offices in Arusha, paid our dues and it appeared later that the team was only arranged after that. Freddy, my guide received a phone call and he arranged the cook and two porters.
Climbing Starts
Shidolya had chosen the Marangu Route, as being one of the easier of the six possible routes. They also recommended an extra acclimatisation day at Horombo Hut at 3720m.
Porters carry everything, including my big rucksack and all our food, pots and pans, small kerosene cooker etc. It is a hard way to earn a living but it seems to be the only work available. Naturally most are very young, still in their twenties though some of the guides are older, the oldest being Freddy’s dad still going strong in his 60’s, who we met on the way down.
Simon our cook was superb. Excellent meals cooked in very primitive conditions. They are properly trained and get a qualification in order to practice as cooks with tour groups. The Serengeti was the same. Always porridge for breakfast, followed by egg and sausage and toast. Normally a packed lunch ate on the side of the track and a cup of tea and biscuits as soon as we arrived at the next camp in mid afternoon. Evening meals always started with a tasty and warming vegetable soup, followed by stew or chicken with lashings of rice or noodles and vegetables, then fruit to follow. As much tea and hot chocolate as we wanted.
One of the porters, Manisi, acted as my personal waiter and valet. He woke me each morning, with a bowl of warmed water in which to wash, laid out my meal table and brought me all my meals. He was very attentive and looked after me well.
The team rely almost totally on tips for their wages, despite the statement on the Shidolya programme that wages are all covered in the basic cost. Over the 6 days, they naturally become your friends, so there is no way you can leave them without a living wage for their efforts to get you up the mountain. Shidolya suggested daily amounts totted up to over $300, way beyond what we expected! However I paid what we could afford – struggling as we are to live on falling Rands and pounds! – and they were happy with that.
Park fees are very high, at $650 for the 6 days, so over half the basic cost of $1200, then $200 for food, plus $100 for transport, plus office overheads left next to nothing for the climbing team.
Day 1
First day was an easy 3.5 hours, starting after lunch, walking very slowly up to Mandara Hut at 2700m. A lovely gentle walk up through the trees, walking through shafts of sunlight.
For the first time I used two walking sticks, which Shidolya had thoughtfully provided. They made a huge difference, helping me to maintain balance and also to assist my poor legs in pushing me forwards. At the camp, there must have been about 50 other walkers, mainly housed in wooden cabins, max. 4 to a cabin. Some had big tents, which have to be carried up and down for each trip, which is crazy!
After supper Freddy called me outside to see four colubus monkeys playing in the trees, a lovely and surprising site, beautifully recorded on the camera.
Day 2
Six hour walk to Horombo Hut at 3700m. We soon were out of the trees, which generally stop at 3000m in the tropics and for me this was the start of beginning to breath deeply to get enough oxygen into my lungs. Everyone is exorted to walk ‘pole pole’ – ‘slowly slowly’, pronounced ‘poorly poorly’. Apart from ‘Jumbo’, which is the universal greeting in Swahili, ‘pole pole’ also became the regular refrain from the many porters rushing past. Gradually it became cooler as we gained height and I was pleased I had taken Freddy’s advice to forsake my shorts in favour of long trousers. Then it rained for the last hour or so, cold light rain, which became heavier and more consistent after we arrived. So no view of Kilimanjaro, which up to that point I had not even seen!
Day 3
A rest day or practice as I termed it. We were supposed to walk to Zebra Rock but as that only took an hour, I insisted to Freddy that we carry on. We walked for another 1.5 hours, right to the top of the saddle between Mwenzi and Kilimanjaro and had a beautiful view of the mountain, though the top was in cloud, as nearly always. I felt good and even reached an estimated height of 4300m, higher than ever before. We could see Kibo Hut, where we were to go the next day and it did not seem so far away.
Day 4
Six hour walk to Kibo Hut at 4600m. Freddy and I left as usual at 8.00am, one of the first and immediately had to walk steeply uphill, which was hard going and not a good start to a long day. As we came over the first initial rise, for the first time we had a cloudless view of the mountain, which we would have for most of the morning, until the clouds inevitably came up from the valley to obscure the top. There was snow at the summit and she looked majestic, with very steep sides, apparently all round, so also looked fairly impregnable. A strong cold wind came up and we were glad to find sheltered rocks behind which to have an early lunch.
After another break for rest and water, we could see Kibo Hut in the distance but it was very hard work getting there, the lack of oxygen really beginning to tell and for that last hour I was very slow indeed. But as always, as soon as I stopped and recovered my breath I was fine and in our dormitory of six, only two of us, the two slowest, had no affects of altitude. Headaches, sickness and light headedness but all made it to the top the following day.
After a cup of tea, we all attempted to rest, in preparation for the overnight walk. Then an early evening meal and more rest until we were woken at 11.pm, although I failed to sleep at all.
Day 5
This was to be the big day. After our midnight feast of tea and dry biscuits, we all wrapped up warm, six layers in my case, plus gloves and woolly hat and scarf. We set off at 11.45pm on a beautiful moonlit night, ‘pole pole’ of course. In my case that meant slower than anyone else, though we were with other groups until near the top and quite a few did not make it at all. We zig-zagged our way up the very steep slope, all covered in snow. I tried without my borrowed head torch but could not see well enough, then the torch gave out, so Freddy kindly lent me his and he did without. Initially I wore my distance glasses but they kept steaming up with all the deep breathing, such that at times I could not see and became disorientated, even prodding my trusty sticks into fresh air a couple of times and nearly over-balancing. So we soon stopped to take them off.
The moon kept disappearing as cloud came over and part of the time we were climbing in falling snow, which left a fine covering over the mountain and the valley below. Accompanying the snow was an icy wind and my inadequate woollen gloves did not keep my hands warm, so at every stop I swung them around my body to get feeling back into them.
As we climbed higher, we went slower, with me having to keep stopping to recover my breath but as soon as I did so, I felt OK and ready to carry on. Then near the top we came to a particularly steep area, straight up the slope in soft ground and I kept sliding and making no progress, collapsed, breathless, exhausting myself. I really began to think I might be overstraining my old body! However, after a few minutes rest and more water (water is very important as you climb higher) I felt ready for another try and gradually made progress onto firmer ground.
Then it became light and such a difference and suddenly knew I could make it. We eventually reached the boulder barrier which surrounds the top and it was a confident scramble and suddenly we were there. Freddy and I threw our arms around each other and celebrated with others we had got to know on the way, including one from our dormitory who did amazingly well, as he was really suffering the night before with sickness and light-headedness.
We had taken exactly seven hours to get there, instead of the regulation five but no matter. Fortuitously we were just in time for the sunrise, a wondrous sight and I have a photo to prove it. We had reached Gillman’s Point 5685m on the southern side of the crater. We looked into the crater but saw nothing, just cloud.
After enjoying our achievement in climbing the mountain, the option was to carry onto Uhuru Rock, the very highest point, which Freddy initially suggested and would take 4-5 hours round trip, boulder hopping across snow covered boulders, which at the best of times I find slow and difficult. We took two steps towards Uhuru and my brain immediately clicked into gear and said “No More”!! I realised by this time, once I had relaxed, that I was very tired, near to exhaustion and was very well satisfied with reaching the crater rim. So a quick chat and we decided we should go down.
Amazingly there were comms just below the summit and on a very bad line I was able to ring Cherry and tell her I had made it! A very emotional moment and she said she had been waiting up, hoping I would be able to call.
Descent
Like most walkers, I hate descending, as it puts terrible strain on the leg joints, though if you can gently jog down the steep slope, as many did, it does help. I can no longer run or jog to save my life and all of the strain is taken by knees and thighs, almost none of my nearly useless ankles. My sticks worked overtime all the way down, slowing me down and helping me to place my foot every time, as any trip or jump sends a shock wave right through my body. So we slowly made it down back to Kibo Hut, the patient Freddy having to wait endlessly for me as I went at my own sedate pace and made it back in three hours, very tired but very satisfied. Great to find that all the others in our dormitory had also made it, a couple also able to make Uhuru as well – and still be back before me, very much the old man of the party.
After a brunch I was allowed an hour’s rest and then it was off again on the slow slog back to Horombo Hut. Legs gradually unstiffened as they warmed but it was a horrible trip, legs quickly getting like jelly and every little jarring making it worse. I always knew this would be very difficult, starting again after nearly exhausting oneself earlier in the day, when all your body wanted to do was lie down and sleep! Last couple of hours were some sort of agony and again poor Freddy had to endlessly wait for me, but finally we made it in about four hours.
At Horombo Hut they immediately gave me my meal and I went straight to bed and slept the sleep of the dead for eight hours. One of the effects for me and others of altitude is that one’s waterworks go into overdrive and about every three hours one wakes up and a quick visit to water the garden outside is required. Fortunately this is only a temporary affliction and this private matter has now returned to normal function, Cherry is pleased to hear. Thought you would all like to know about that!
Next morning, fully recovered, said our goodbyes to the porters and our last look at Kilimanjaro in close-up and set off for the long walk to the entrance gate. Felt good on this trip and it took us six hours to walk at a good pace for me all the way. We met Simon at the gate, who had unexpectedly prepared a cooked lunch for me instead of the usual pack up. After an interminable delay sorting out a park payment problem – Shidolya had only paid them for five days instead of six, finally we were off but not before Shidolya had presented me with a bottle of Champagne for reaching the top, which was a nice touch.[u1] Also an official certificate, saying I had climbed Mount Kilimanjaro to Gilman’s Point at 5685m.
For a few photos CLICK HERE
For some pictures of Alec’s climb of Kilimanjaro please click here
