Kili Day 6 – On the top of Africa.

Distance Travelled: 6.2km up, 6.2+9.5km down (Total: 31.2km up 15.7 down + 10km acclimatisation)

Altitude Gained: 1175m (Total: 3390m + 660m acclimatisation) Highest point: 5895m.

Setting off at midnight!

We were woken at 23.20 (although I might have already been awake) and we made our preparations for the summit. We had slept in most of our clothes and it was just a case of pulling on our overclothes and putting on our boots. It was then a quick cup of tea and some biscuits before our midnight departure. Thankfully, I felt so much better.

It was quite a magical experience. The sky was clear and the stars / Milky Way stunning once again. We made our way to the start to join the procession of torches heading up the mountain. There were about 10 other groups I think, some pairs (plus two guides) including an older American couple we had met at the bottom. One of them was using Altox, which I was intrigued to know was now on offer here. There was one very big group with the guides all singing and chanting them up the mountain. Everyone goes ‘polepole’ but clearly there are different paces of ‘polepole’. We started strong and it felt like we were going to fly up (slowly) the mountain.

Childer1, you can see the 

cloud base far below in 

the distance.

Unfortunately, it was a gruelling route. Underfoot it was at best slippy, at worst frank scree. And it was steep with the path zigzagging up the mountain. After about 3 hours, it started to take its toll. With about only 200m of altitude left to go until we hit the ridge (we had done 800m), my daughter really started to struggle. The pace became glacial and we were stopping more and more frequently. She had just run out of fuel. Chivvied along, she put in an almighty effort to continue. But we had barely made 100m in the last 2hs. She pushed and pushed, determined to at least reach the ridge, but she was clearly flagging. Then she stopped, vomited, pushed on another couple of times and then all but collapsed. I pulled her onto my knees and gave her a massive cuddle. She had reached her limit. She just could not go on. She had made it to the rock that the guides considered the start of Gilman’s point and in doing so gets rewarded with a certificate. She has climbed Mount Kilimanjaro! I was flooded with a mix of deep pride and concern for how she was feeling. We sat for a while, sharing the moment. Dawn broke and we enjoyed some stunning views. I found her some snow to hold – one of her priorities was to build a snowman in Africa.

Watching the sunrise over Mawenzi peak,

we are above the cloud base in the distance.

We had discussed what we would do if faced with this situation on the mountain, but of course the reality is always so much harder. The guides expected that I would carry on up with one and the other would take her back down to rest. I hesitated, not wanting to carry on without her, nor leave her alone feeling rubbish. However, the lead guide explained that if he took her back down it would be much quicker than if we descended as a group. It would be the quickest and best way to get her back to base camp to sleep (and easiest for her). Having rested with me for 15min, she was feeling better but very relieved to be heading back down. She had given it her all and certainly had nothing left. She urged me to continue, to make it to the ‘very top’ and get her ‘some good pictures of African snow’ for her friends. I was still understandably hesitant. But with the encouragement and reassurance of both her and the guides, I agreed to continue. The guides are incredible people, we had already built a bond of friendship and had learned to trust and respect their counsel.

My daughter was lifted on to the back of our lead guide and I watched in awe as he began a rapid, skilled and surefooted descent. It was a real-life superman moment (she tells me he carried her most of the way back to base camp, over 900m of altitude descent – astonishing, bear in mind it had taken us 6hrs to get up here).

So up I went. I would be lying if I said that my mind was not preoccupied with my daughter. I knew that she was alright and it was what she wanted me to do, but it was still far from easy. Her encouragement chivvied me up and I had to moderate my pace to ensure I did not get too tired too quickly. However, having made that commitment to her, there was now no question that I wouldn’t make it. However hard it would be.

The extraordinary glaciers seen at the top.

We ended up with both the day sacks (the guides were carrying them originally, the norm for the vast majority of those attempting a summit attempt) and so I carried one. However, I realised as we made the last few meters to Gilman's Point that I needed to offload it, at this altitude it felt like it was doubling my body weight. So, my guide took them both. It was only as we descended (I took it back for that) that I realised quite how remarkable these guides are. I am considered fit in the UK, but one had just piggybacked my daughter down over 900m of altitude descent required back to base camp and the other carried two daysacks to the summit!

The top of Africa; 5,895m up.

So what was the final bit like? It certainly rates as one of the hardest things I’ve ever done physically. Probably because it is something you just cannot prepare for (although I think if I was to do it again, I would take a much longer time over it and acclimatise better). Whilst the actual distance to be covered is quite limited up on the ridge, I felt very lightheaded. And the closer we got to the summit the more profound this became. The physical exertion is difficult, not because it hurts (like when you push yourself in training), but because of the difficulty in recruiting oxygen into the body (I believe that there is just 40% of the oxygen available at sea level at the summit). Altitude is really tough. Muscles just don’t work and get tired very quickly. Breathing is obviously heavy, and HR is sky high. The combination of an almost ethereal experience with the physical restriction, really did make it extremely challenging. And all of that was on the background of feeling under-par to start with. But I made it, and in good time. The last 250m (lateral distance) was particularly tough though, I needed to stop several times. As I paused, I noticed the slightly strange sight of several ‘summiteers’ being lead arm in arm by their guide. A testament to how tough it is perhaps. But I got there and have the photos to show for it. I enjoyed a few minutes looking out over beautifully clear skies from the highest point in Africa. It is a truly astonishing place to be. But my mind quickly returned to base camp and my daughter. 

I am not sure if there is a record for a non-guide’s descent from the summit to Kibo huts base camp. But I must have been in the running. I donned the smaller day sack and pretty much jogged back along the ridge – how I manged this I am not too sure. It certainly surprised my guide. And then on the final descent, it was a most pleasant surprise (I normally hate going downhill – my knees complain). After the initial scramble over rocks it was onto a scree slope and I flew down – it is a combination of surfing, snowboarding a skiing (three of my favourite activities). It was fantastic. And to top it all off, two of the porters were halfway down waiting for us; to congratulate me and take our bags. It was a lovely touch. And I got back to camp to find a very ok daughter who was absolutely delighted with my reported summit. I felt quite emotional (tired thing again) and extremely proud of her. We had a lovely cuddle. 

I then had just an hour to rest before lunch. Having got my appetite back, the hearty soup with lumps of root vegetables was just perfect for me. And the reward for our gruelling ordeal? We then had a 3 hour trek to our camp for tonight. Fortunately, it was fairly flat, and it was stunning walking over the Saddle between the two peaks of the mountain – actually, we both agreed it was our favourite leg.

So back to the question; "Ridiculous or brilliant?" Knowing what I know now, I think I can answer. My daughter quite clearly could not have made it to the very top on the schedule / route we had planned (even with the adaptation). She is a fit and active 11 year old and gave it her all – I am so proud – but the undertaking was huge. Perhaps the tummy bug we both had didn’t help (interestingly our ‘waiter’ was sent home today with the same – did he give it to us, or us to him?). But at the start of the summit climb, I think she was actually in fairly good form. It was just a massive ask. The route of 1000m of climbing up steep slippery scree was just too much. On my descent from the ridge, the Base Camp looking so small in the far distance (I wish I’d taken a photo), the magnitude of what she achieved really hit home. It was incredible. So I think it was both ridiculous and brilliant. The idea ridiculous, her performance brilliant. 

To put this into perspective for the UK – Scafell Pike is 978m high, Snowdon is 1,085m and Ben Nevis is 1,345m. Kilimanjaro is 5,895m high.

It has been a great experience for us both. I am so pleased we did it. We have grown as individuals and together, which is after all what these things are all about. We chatted constantly and I think I held my daughter’s hand more in the last few days (we walked hand in hand for most of it) than I have in the last year. And that is very special.