I woke up in the morning still tired from the day before even though we got to “sleep in” an extra half hour. We didn’t have such a long hike ahead of us to get to Barafu camp which was where we would start the final ascent to the summit of Mt. Kilimanjaro later that day. Karanga Camp is at 13,100 ft. elevation and we would climb to 15,300 ft. elevation to get to Barafu Camp. There we would have lunch and then rest for the afternoon and evening til 10:30 that night. Abel told us that he usually let his groups sleep til 11:30 to get ready to start the climb at midnight but since we were slow we would need to get an earlier start.
As we got on the trail, the mist of the early morning evaporated into a beautiful cloudless blue sky. The chilly air warmed up so we could shed our heavier jackets. There was a breeze but not a strong wind. The landscape of the trail was stern, rocky, barren, forsaken terrain that did not support much animal or plant life. This was definitely the alpine desert climate zone. We could see the top of Kibo peak off to the side of the trail on various stretches of the path. This sight was a reminder of our goal and encouraged us to keep going forward. At 13,000 ft. climbing to 15,000 ft. every step was an effort and every breath seemed like I was gasping for my last. We trudged on at a snail’s pace and took frequent breaks to hydrate and fuel our bodies. We didn’t engage in as much conversation while moving but during the breaks resumed our laughs and stories. At this point in the journey the nine of us had gotten to know each other in a way that often occurs when people band together for a mission and purpose that requires grit, determination, endurance, pain, and ultimate glory. We had learned about each other’s families, jobs, travels, hobbies, and connection to Parkinson’s Disease. We heard the trials that PD had brought to each of us and the difficulty and sorrow we had experienced. Each of us were determined to make a difference in the search for a cure. While our endeavor was to raise funds for research through the Michael J Fox Foundation, there was much more we wanted to accomplish here. We wanted to raise awareness about PD by telling our stories. We wanted to inspire others, not just with PD, but who face any adversity, to take charge of their destiny and get involved. For me personally, I wanted to show that people with PD can live full, vibrant lives. Hey, I have PD but I just climbed Mt. Kilimanjaro thus demonstrating a metaphor for facing the challenges of life. In a few days I had a bond with eight people plus our guides and spanning a 50-year age difference that under normal circumstances might take years to form.
We arrived at the Barafu Camp in the early afternoon. After shedding our daypacks, we went farther up the path to the gate post for the obligatory group picture. While it wasn’t that far up to the gate post from our camp, at 15,300 ft. it felt like a struggle to get there. Back at camp, we spread out our sleeping bag and mat in our tent before lunch. Abel came to our mess tent to give us our debriefing about how to prepare for the hike to the summit. We were to wear four pair of pants, two pair of socks, at least two long sleeve fleece shirts, a wool hat, warm gloves with hand warmers in them, a parka, and a bright head lamp. I told Abel that my leggings were still wet from when I rinsed them out on day two and thus I did not have four pair of pants to wear. He asked me to bring them to him. I know he sent them to the cook tent to have them dried over the stove. Later that day they were dry and ready to wear to the summit. I really don’t remember much about the rest of the afternoon so I must have gotten the rest and sleep needed for the final and certainly most difficult leg of this epic expedition.
It was very dark and cold outside when 10:30 p.m. arrived that night. I started getting dressed for the climb but that was not an easy task. I struggled to pull my leggings over my long underwear, then my fleece pants over my leggings and finally the rain pants over the fleece pants. Next came putting on the top layers and then the socks. I had to loosen the laces on my boots to accommodate the extra socks and toe warmers I put in each boot. Then, I put on the wool beanie hat and a head band that went over my ears on top of the hat. I put on my bright blue parka and got out the neoprene face mask from my snow skiing days. I had recharged the batteries on my gloves but must have left them on during the afternoon as the batteries to the gloves were dead. Having cold hands and fingers is very difficult for me as they freeze up so that I can barely move them. I could only hope the gloves would be warm enough without the batteries to provide extra warmth. Once I had all my clothes on I had to get my boots on. Needless to say, I was the last one to the table for the meal needed to provide energy as we made the assault on Kilimanjaro. I was frustrated! I still needed help to get my boot laces tied and my gaiters on. So, I sat down and lost it. I fumed about how small the tents were and how difficult they had made my life on this trip. Everyone at the table quietly listened to my rant until I snapped out of it and said “enough whining”. It was time to get it in gear and do what needed to be done to reach that pinnacle. I grabbed a little food to eat from the table, gratefully accepted help getting my boots tied, the gaiters put around my ankles, opening the chemical warmers for my hands and feet, and my water bag filled. Jo let me use her extra head lamp as mine was not very bright. It was 11:30 p.m. on August 13 and we were ready to start the ascent of 4,000 ft. elevation in three miles to the top of the highest, free standing volcanic peak in the world.
It was a cold, crystal clear, moonless night as we lined up single file to start up the path. Able led the group and I was placed next in line with Matthew close behind me. As we started very pole, pole, or slowly, slowly up the trail I noted the brilliant stars above me with the constellations of Orion and the Big Dipper at the horizon so close I could reach out and touch them. The lights of the town of Moshi twinkled below in the valley. A single file line of head lamps from other groups stretched out before us going upward to the peak. The imagery was like I was ascending to Heaven with the earthly lights fading in the distance. It was very vivid and made me think of Jacob’s ladder. I felt the presence of a higher power reaching from above to connect with my soul in a very real and almost tangible way.
We made our way in silence for the most part at first. Then, Alex started having difficulty with his footing. We paused to see what he needed. It seemed that Alex was needing to redose his PD medication and this was undoubtedly more pronounced by the altitude. Abel moved Alex to the head of the line behind him. As we traveled upward, the lights of Moshi became dim, and the constellations moved across the sky. The headlamps ahead of us spaced out farther away so we seemed to be alone on the mountain. Others in our group were feeling the fatigue and effects of the altitude and demands of the trail such that they were not feeling well. I was snacking on my high energy gummies and gels to give me strength and doing okay. And then the first light of dawn appeared on the horizon. I was awestruck and determined to take it in. At first it was a hint of light and then a bright, glowing streak of orange across the longest horizon line I have ever seen. I could actually see the gentle curve of the earth that the view from 17,000 ft. elevation gives. I wanted to stay at that spot long enough to see the bright, glowing ball of the sun break through. After taking many pictures, we continued upward. It was bitterly cold at about zero degrees Fahrenheit, but the sun brought a welcome warmth for the rest of our ascent. There was some wind but not so strong that it made hiking difficult. It wasn’t long before we came to Stella’s Point, the first place on the rim of the crater along the trail. Matthew said we needed to keep going to get to Uhuru Peak as by this time the group had spread out and since we couldn’t stay very long at the high altitude, we needed to get there as a group not as individuals. It was about another hour of hiking along the rim to reach our destination. So, by putting one foot in front of the other, I trudged on still feeling good. The terrain was pure desolation with nothing but dry, volcanic space and gravel. Off to the southern side we could see the top of the ice and glaciers we had seen while traversing the path below for the past several days. The iconic sign was just ahead but every step took determination. And then, I was there. I was at the peak. I was at Uhuru Point. I was at 19,341 ft. elevation. I was there beside that iconic sign. I had made it on Tuesday morning August 14, 2023 at 8:30 in the morning after 9 hours of hiking through the night. This story will be continued in part 2 …
© Copyright 2023. Lucretia Pintacuda. All rights reserved.
Trekking Upward 