I had less than 3 hours of sleep and got up at 10pm. I forced down a few cookies and tea...then at 11pm sharp, about 10 of us started the slow hike to Uhuru Peak - the top of Kilimanjaro.
Hiking in the dark was scary. Winds were blowing at 40 miles per hour and temperature was less than 30 degrees when we started the climb.
My head lamp went out 10 mintues into the hike (the battery stopped working when the weather gets too cold). I had to follow someone who had a decent head lamp the rest of the way. The hose to my camelback (even though it was insulated) froze within half an hour of the hike. It didn't occur to me that I should turn back. I kept on walking, one step at a time.
My raincover for the daypack was blown away in the first hour of the hike. The assistant guide caught it in time. I asked him to put the raincover inside the daypack. But he either didn't understand or didn't hear me b/c of the hollering wind, he just slipped the raincover on the daypack. My hand was too cold
to do anything. I figured the raincover would surly get blown away in 5 minutes...and sure enough it did. The assistant guide tapped on my shoulder and said that he would go get it. I thought to myself "there is no way he can find the raincover in the dark with wind blowing at 40 miles per hour" I continued walking...like a grandmom at this point. The air was getting thinner. I took one step, rest & breathe, before taking the next step.
Someone tapped my shoulder 15 minutes later. The assistant guide found the raincover! Don't ask me how he did it....amazing!
At about 18,000 ft, the group that started hiking at 12am caught up with us. It was a boost to my moral to see some familiar faces. Chuck, a kind soul from Minneapolis, found out my situation and offered me water. I developed a minor headache on the way up, but be it the Diamox drug or my body's nature response to high altitude, it came and went as I ascended.
Somewhere between 18,000 ft and Stella Point, I couldn't feel my fingers. Chuck kindly offered to exchange his mittens (fitted with hand warmers)
with my ski gloves. That saved my fingers from frost bites.
About 7 hours later, I reached Stella Point (at 19,000 ft) at around 6am.
I saw the sky changed color from pitch dark to pink orange along the horizon... it was the most spectacular sunrise near a glacier. I almost cried at that point... seriously... but I thought to myself... I will wait until I get to the top, which was another brutal 45 minutes away. By this time I was hungry (had 2 small bite-size Snicker bars along the way - again, thanks to the kindness of Chuck) and exhausted. The sign for Kilimanjaro was no where in sight. But I thought to myself, I made it this far already, I need to make it to the top even if I have to crawl.
And 45 minutes later, I dragged myself to 19,343 ft... the summit :)
Everyone in the group congratulated each other and took pictures near the sign. Chuck opened up a bottle of beer...rightfully called the Summit Series (yup, he hauled it all the way from the U.S.)
We stayed at the summit for less than 10 minutes. It was
too cold to stay up there any longer...I just wanted to head back down to a warmer place.
It took about 3.5 hours to get back to base camp. We were walking on loose gravels all the way down. About 1.5 hour from base camp, one of the assistant guide helped me and a couple of the girls to walk down the steep mountain side... I think I could have fallen numerous times if it hadn't for him (one girl from another tour group fell and broke her two front toes).
I got back to base camp at about 10:30am. By 12:30pm, we had to leave base camp. We have less than a few hours to rest, eat lunch, and pack our gears. We hiked another 4-5 hours to Mweka Camp at about 10,000 ft elevation. I have never felt so exhausted in my entire life. Yet at the same time, I felt that I have accomplished something that at the start I didn't believe I could have done it.
Even though my tent was right next to the trail and near the porters' tents, I slept like a rock that night.
*Glacier and sunrise photos from Brian G.'s camera*