Completed Highpoint

The technique we were taught for summiting is “Pole Pole=Slowly, Slowly”. I interpreted that to mean one can accomplish what they set out to do, if they just keep putting one foot in front of the other, very slowly, one small step at a time. And, accomplishing what you set out to do often requires knowing when and how to accept help from others.

So you want to know what it was like to summit Kilimanjaro? At least for me?

Summit Day. Or rather Summit Night.

Kilimanjaro is the highest mountain in the world that can be climbed without technical skills or equipment. But that’s also what makes it so challenging, both physically and especially mentally.

The first 6 days of the trek were really rather leisurely, comprised of half day hikes, delicious meals prepared for us, dishes washed for us, and gear carried and set up for us. This too, involved “pole pole”, ascend a little, and wait for the body to acclimatize. Climb high, sleep low, and wait. For us, it fit the description of glamping more than the labor-intensive backpacking to which we are accustomed!

On the 6th day we reached base camp, which is at 15,331 feet. The summit is at 19,341 feet. It would take 7 hours of climbing through the night to summit at sunrise, and another 7 hours to descend back past base camp to the next camp.
We were instructed to try to sleep at 7:00 pm (ha!) because we would be woken up at 10:30 pm in order to depart at 11:30 pm. We were given a light snack rather than a meal (because of the risk of vomiting!)

We were aware that 75% of people experience symptoms of AMS=Acute Mountain Sickness, even while taking the drug diamox to prevent them. (And to add to the confusion, the side effects of diamox can produce the very same symptoms it is designed to prevent!) We knew that symptoms can include severe headache, dizziness, fatigue, nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, loss of appetite, loss of reasoning, confusion and irritability. (Ready to sign up?) We were armed with our own personal pharmacies, including ibuprofen, zofran, and anti-diarrheal pills.

We did not know about the peripheral edema we would both experience (swelling of face, hands, and feet).

We did know it would be cold. Very cold. Like somewhere between 20 degrees above and 20 degrees below 0 degrees Fahrenheit. Even though it was 88 degrees when we started the trek. We were as well equipped as possible. I had 2 base layers, a fleece, 2 puffy jackets, and a rain suit to ward off the wind. We had glove liners, hand warmers, foot warmers, Buffs, and hats. Leslie even thought ahead to bring extra hand warmers to be sure the phone batteries didn’t die in the cold so we could take photos. We even had to remove a layer once we started moving because we were too warm.

And still.

Neither one of us has ever been colder. (And remember that I'm a Yooper and she's a Minnesotan!)

7 hours of baby steps to ascend 5 kilometers. In the dark. In the cold. In wind unlike any I have ever experienced. At a constant, steep, straight up incline. While air pressure decreases. And the ability of oxygen to reach our lungs evaporates.
Time as we knew it disappeared. It just wasn’t trackable. It was too cold to check the time, and it didn’t matter anyway. The dark outline of the mountain looming above us never seemed to change.

I did get a headache, which responded to ibuprofen. I had only a little nausea. And thank the mountain gods and goddesses no vomiting. I did lose control of my fine motor skills and could not do simple things like zip a zipper, or use the buckles on my pack. It took all the coordination I could muster to figure out how to take down my pants to pee on the mountain!

I was simultaneously completely in my body, aware of every painful step, aware of my breath, aware that I was certain I was going to lose my fingers to frostbite (I didn't), and also out of my body on some level. I still don’t know whether this was part of the confusion associated with AMS, an unconscious coping technique, or both.

The only other life experience I have for any kind of comparison is childbirth. My labor lasted about 35 hours, and the first 17 were without epidural.

Both experiences transported me into an altered mental state, in which I was both in my head and out of my head at the same time.

Interestingly, I instinctively relied on the same technique for both — vocalizing. Breathing techniques did nothing for me in childbirth. While they did help on the mountain, thanks to the guidance of guide Erick, adding my voice in long “OM” like “chants”, were a significant part of how I got to the top.* In other words, it sounded to others like I was moaning. I’m certain it was annoying, but it felt like an actual survival technique. I recommended it to Leslie, who I’m pretty sure initially was pretty irritated, but she eventually tried it as well with some success.

We had 3 summit guides, our 2 regular guides, Erick Kivelege and Prosper Chacha Siyako, as well as fantastic and attentive guide-in-training, Patrick Ndiege. Erick and Prosper are experts, and behaved like the most advanced yogis I have ever seen, staying calm, level, focused, and unshaken. They have done this over 500 times. With over 500 different groups of people. They are true mountain “gurus” and have undoubtedly seen it all. The 3 of them took over anything and everything without us asking, such as taking weight from our packs, fastening our buckles, taking our poles when our hands could no longer grasp them, constantly monitoring our safety, telling us where we could pee, when we could/should drink water, when we could/should snack . . . and . . . singing. Yes, singing. To motivate us at the point when we had nothing left. How they mustered the energy and oxygen to sing is beyond something I can understand. However, when Leslie asked for “more please”, they somehow obliged. Leslie has music degrees from both Interlochen and Northwestern. I have made my career in music. To experience music used for this purpose was unexpected, fantastic, beautiful, and effective. Even in my altered state, watching from above, I knew it. These 3 mountain gurus became 3 of the most appreciated music makers I have ever encountered. No, we didn’t join in. We didn’t know the songs. Nor could we have with our limited capacities. But music for the win in a very big way.

I have little photographic or video evidence of the trekking itself. I had no energy or wherewithal to even contemplate documentation. It took everything I had, mind/body/spirit, just to keep taking those steps.

Leslie and I both cried at various points. In my case it was probably better described as downright whimpering.
When we reached Stella Point, we still had an hour to go, but with the sun beginning to rise, it started to feel a bit more hopeful.

I think these photos are accurate. If you look at our faces at Stella Point, you can see that we do indeed look somewhat traumatized. You can see fear. You can see exhaustion. You can see doubt. We are standing by the sign post, but we do not convey any sense of accomplishment in our faces.

I include the photo of my swollen, blown up face because it shows the amount of facial edema I experienced, along with some frozen snot. It’s not romantic. But it is realistic. (No, I do not look like that normally!)

I don’t know how long we were on the summit. Maybe 15-20 minutes? Long enough to have photos taken of us. Long enough for me to play the saxophone. I was unable to play the 1 minute premieres I had hoped to play, but I did play the saxophone — sort of. I kept my glove liners on, which I had planned for, but because of the facial edema and loss of motor control, I couldn’t control my facial muscles so my embouchure kept blowing off the mouthpiece, literally. Yes, it was strange. I couldn’t bring the muscles in my face to form a real smile either. Even talking was difficult as the part of my face responsible for forming syllables wouldn't work properly. (However, I did play the premieres back at base camp.) What was I able to play? The Michigan fight song! Video proof included here!

The guides asked us for a quick descent. It’s just not that safe to be up there for very long. We did our best to oblige. We got back down maybe 1,000 feet (no idea really), but the sun had risen, it was warmer, the wind had died down, and very suddenly, it was like my brain snapped back in to some kind of “normalcy”. I said, “What just happened?” Leslie said something like, "Exactly." We had been “somewhere else” and the transition back to feeling grounded seemed rather abrupt. The following descent was more like what you’d expect, excruciating on the thighs and knees after 14 hours of hiking up and down, and exceptionally pole pole, with a good 5 days required for our muscles to recover.

Just like childbirth, everyone’s experience is unique . . . as well as the same.

Just like childbirth, it isn’t really possible to explain to someone that hasn’t experienced it. I tried hard to be informed for both experiences before they happened, yet I didn’t know until I knew.

How to summarize the summit day? Beautiful. Painful. Traumatic. Interesting. Punishing. Exhilarating (after the fact, not in the moment). Scary. Present. Not present. An altered state of reality. How much was oxygen deprivation? How much was physical and mental fatigue? How much was sleep deprivation? How much was the mystical experience of being on such an iconic mountain? Who knows?

If you’re intrigued, go find out for yourself. Be sure to use Gladys Adventure & Safaris Co Ltd, the best company on the mountain.

I am grateful for it all.

Please go back and read Leslie Kleinberg Zacks' essay about her experience on Summit Night. She's a much better and more entertaining writer.

*I wasn’t consciously choosing the syllable, “OM” on either occasion. However, in my yoga teacher training, we learned that OM, which is really 3 letters, AUM, is a universal, ancient sound and the source from which all things emerge. It represents multiple triads: earth, atmosphere and heaven; thought, speech, and action; goodness, passion, and darkness; mother, father, holy spirit; Brahma, Vishnu, Shiva; Creator, Sustainer, Transformer. It is meant to mystically embody the essence of the entire universe. That’s a lot to ask of what sounds like groaning in the dark on a mountain, but so be it!
We also learned that it produces a physiological response in the body and immediately relaxes body and mind. That part definitely proved to be true!

#leslieandcarrieclimbamountian