05.10.07
Sarah
Summit for the weekend
I made it back from the mountain! I’ve had a fantastic experience, although at times it felt like I wasn’t going to make it back. But then it also felt like the whole world had disappeared and all that was left was me, my frozen extremities, a never-ending slope of loose rock and a few disembodied head torches.When I had been walking for about five hours on the summit night, I started to realise that quitting and heading back to camp would be almost as painful as going on and reaching the top. I felt trapped. I wanted to cry but I didn’t want to exacerbate my headache. Thoughts of how wonderful it would be to get to the summit, see the views and feel that warm glow of achievement didn’t do anything for me. The voice in my head telling me I was stupid and that this was a waste of time, was winning.I felt bitter and incredibly annoyed with everything and everyone around me. Why were the porters carrying the day packs of some of my fellow trekkers but not mine? Why had my water frozen quicker than other people’s? Why did we have to stop so often when it made me think my hands would freeze and fall off? Why did anyone want to climb this ridiculous mountain anyway? Even when the (admittedly stunning) rising sun began to break through the inky black sky in ribbons of pink and gold I couldn’t care less. Getting my camera out would mean a biting pain in my already icy fingers. I frowned impatiently, willing the sun to get into the sky quicker and thaw me out. They’re not lying when they say it’s a lonely climb and that it takes as much mental effort as it does physical. I can’t put into words how depressing that nine hour summit climb was.
In the end it was thoughts of what I would do after I had finished the trek that kept me going: Simple things like a good night’s sleep in a warm bed, a hot bath, drinking water that didn’t taste of iodine, having clean fingernails again, eating a huge pizza, watching a good movie from the comfort of a sofa and using a proper toilet.Having said all that, and perhaps having sounded quite negative, I would definitely recommend the trek to anyone who likes a challenge or who wants to test themselves mentally and physically. I had a difficult, painful and uncomfortable time, but I really enjoyed myself and don’t regret a second of it. The views are certainly worth the effort, but the team spirit and the anecdotes and unbeatable banter in the food tent each day made the trip. In ordinary social circumstances it would be frowned upon to discuss, for example, the bowel movements of new friends in such colourful detail. But not on Kilimanjaro. At altitude no subject is taboo. It’s actually amazing what the altitude does to a person. Even before you get to the potentially dangerous symptoms of AMS almost all of us suffered the more minor symptoms of severe headaches, loss of appetite, nosebleeds, mood swings, difficulty sleeping, difficulty breathing and, um, digestive troubles.
My tips for anyone crazy enough to attempt this mountain? Don’t even think about bringing banana-flavoured rehydration sachets – the lemon and lime ones are the best, don’t underestimate the benefits of taking loads of wet wipes, oh, and tampons are great for stopping nosebleeds.
