SACRED Climb for Change – Mount Kilimanjaro – September
2007
By David McMillann
It doesn’t seem that long ago that the Kilimanjaro climb was idea
being bandied about by Peter Fletcher and Simon Oakes. Simon had
recently joined Europump and within a very short period of time had
several of the Grundfos gang going mountain biking most weekends.
In fact I can probably thank Simon for the eight stitches on my
chin and the six broken bones in my hand, as arguably I would not
have sustained these injuries, had I never met him. But like
the Murphy’s, I’m not bitter.
So with our newfound love of adventure, Simon suggested to Peter
Reynolds that we do something that was not just physically
challenging but that would also help raise money for the newly
formed SACRED charity. From this the idea of climbing Kilimanjaro
was born.
Fast-forward almost twelve months to September 2007 and to Heathrow
airport check-in where a mixed bunch with a wide age group and a
number of different nationalities are gathered.
The first two experiences that I would like to share with you
relate to the journey. The first is arriving at Addis Ababa airport
in Ethiopia. My memories of Ethiopia were from when I was a child,
seeing the footage on the news and that it was a very dry and
barren land. Up until recently, that was my mental picture,
however, nothing could be further from the truth, Ethiopia is green
and fertile land and from the air, it looks like a giant patchwork
quilt with light and dark greens. The second experience I want to
share was transferring from Kilimanjaro airport to the hotel. This
is going to sound a little like a cliché, which I apologise for,
but the first thing that strikes me is just how fortunate I am to
live in the UK. Don’t get me wrong, Tanzania is not the poorest or
grimmest country I have ever been to, but life is tough, very
tough. The people here are not just poor by our standards but are
very poor. But they possess what we in the west perhaps lack,
as although they may only have the clothes on their back and some
food on the table – they are happy and have a broad smile for
everyone.
Day 1: The first day of the climb arrives and I
sense more than a little apprehension from the group, as none of us
really knows what to expect. We arrive at the main gate and sign
in. I never read the small print but I’m sure we were signing away
any responsibility for our safety and well being. The first day is
a gentle 4 hour climb to the first camp at Mandara. This is 2,700
metres or about 9,000 feet in old money. It is a very tropical
environment with a blanket of lush green as far as the eye can see.
We arrived at about 4pm and it was very shortly after this that we
get our first taste of the cuisine and in particular the leek soup.
This would become a staple, and there was no day that went by when
we didn’t meet up with this ‘friend’.
The accommodation at Mandara comprises of wooden huts split down
the middle with each side housing 4 people. The best way to
describe these is cosy. I had the pleasure of sharing with Peter
Flecther and Simon Oakes on the first day (photo attached). As it
turns dark, one of the first things that strikes you is how cold it
gets once the sun goes down. Within half hour, we went from wearing
shorts and t-shirts to thermal leggings and coats.
The one thing I don’t think I will ever be able to convey to you is
just how beautiful the sky looks at night. You can literally see
thousands of stars, perhaps millions all with perfect clarity. It
really is a sight to behold and I only wish my camera could have
been able to pick them up but sadly, it couldn’t. This will be one
of the memories I’ll carry with me for the rest of my life.
Day 2: and we are heading towards Horombo Hut at
3700 metres (12,200 feet). It’s a five and a half hour trek and we
leave just after breakfast. This trek is where you can start to see
the trees and plant life getting smaller as the altitude is getting
higher. I didn’t use my trekking polls and could really feel it on
my knee. For the last two hours, I walk with my right leg locked
with as little knee movement as possible as the pain is pretty bad.
I make a mental note to make sure I take my trekking polls out of
my main back pack and use them from now on. With about half and
hour to go, Lau from Holland starts to suffer quite badly from
altitude sickness and we stop for a rest. He does not look good but
we push on and make it to Horombo. It hits home that Lau is really
quite ill and can barely stand on his own. At that point a number
of us realise that we are not invincible and that this sickness
could affect any one of us. Bearing in mind we still have some 2000
metres to go, it’s quite clear that some of us, if not all of us,
will suffer at some point.
Day 3: is an acclimatisation day and we stay in
and around Horombo to get used to the higher altitudes. We travel
to a place called Zebra rock (picture attached) which is just over
4000 metres. Lau stays at the Hut to recover but I am not confident
he will be able to start day 4. We climb just above Zebra rock to
see the trail leading up to the next hut (picture attached). This
gives us an idea of what is in store for us.
Day 4: and we are heading to Kibo Hut at 4700
metres (15,500 feet). This is going to be a six hour trek. During
the trek, the plant life becomes virtually non existent and the
scenery becomes barren and deserted. We see a number of people
coming down who have been to, or have attempted to, get to the
top. Needless to say, some of them look like death warmed up
and there are a number of comments within the group about this.
With a couple of hours to go it starts getting really tough. It’s
the first time I am noticeably out of breath. We stop for a break
and one or two people are now complaining of feeling dizzy. At this
point Lau is really looking distressed and the group are concerned
for his well being.
We finally make it to Kibo Hut between 4 and 5pm and there is some
camaraderie as we make our way into the sleeping quarters. Spirits
are high but some people are really quite ill. Not only is Lau
feeling bad but Gert Borrits and Neil Warby are also feeling the
affects. We relax for a few minutes, have some tea and start
talking about the possibility that not everyone is going to be
attempting the final climb. Lau and Gert decide that enough is
enough which leaves Neil to decide if he can make it. The trouble
is we don’t have long to decide as the climb to the top sets off at
midnight which is a little over seven hours from arriving at Kibo.
We are all in bed at Kibo by 6pm trying to get some sleep for an
11pm wake up call. I really don’t think any of us got more than an
hour sleep that night, I know I certainly didn’t. All I could do
was lie in my sleeping bag trying to get to sleep but my brain just
wouldn’t switch off.
Day 4-5: We are up at 11pm for an early breakfast.
We will be setting off at midnight. Neil decides he’s up for the
climb which we are all pleased about. We all assemble outside and
are told to get into single file with our head torches on, all
lined up behind Freddy, the main guide. We set off in single file
and that’s how it’s going to be for the rest of the climb. I really
don’t think I can explain just how slow you need to trek to ensure
you don’t suffer too much from altitude sickness. Think of how long
it would take you to walk a mile at average pace and multiply that
by a factor of 4 or 5. That’s how slow it was. To be honest, the
further up you go, your body wouldn’t allow you to go much faster
anyway. The local term for walking slowly is called Pole-Pole
(pronounced Polly), which loosely translates to slowy-slowy or take
it easy.
We have been walking for what seems to be a very long time, several
hours and we stop for a break. The truth is we have been going for
45 minutes to an hour. Most of us had been prepared for the cold;
in fact some of us removed our outer jackets because we were
getting too hot. It’s not often you will hear that in temperatures
of between -5 (Kibo) and minus 12 (The top). The one thing none of
us were prepared for was how cold the water became. Right from the
start of the climb we were told how important it was to have
between 2 and 3 litres of water a day but now when we needed it the
most, it was too cold to drink. It was either frozen and we
couldn’t drink it or if we could it caused tremendous stomach
pains.
We get to about half way up and I don’t think one of us is
unaffected by our surroundings. We have all suffered with the
altitude, the cold or both. It’s at this point where some more
people are dropping out. I’m feeling bad but am still confident I
can make it. Neil Warby is really looking bad and decides to call
it a day. I am not going to mention the other people who dropped
out on the final day as I’m not sure it’s appropriate but the
reason I mention Neil is because of the fact he even attempted the
final day. Looking as he did at Kibo, I can honestly say, if I was
in the same situation, I don’t think I would have even attempted
it, so he will always have my respect for that.
100 metres to go, vertically that is and I am really feeling it, so
much so, that I am losing sight of the group in front and I have a
guide with me giving some support. I’m so bad in fact that he
carries my back pack, his own back pack and my camera. For every
few yards of walking I need to take a 2 minute break. I feel dizzy
and can’t keep any liquids down. We get a little bit further and I
say to the guide that I have to stop, I can’t go any further. He
asks me to look up, so I can see the group above me and tells me
that is the top. I can recall some vague memories of this but
basically said I didn’t believe it and the group were just waiting
for me. The truth is that was the top and I was 20 metres away, but
still wanted to give up. I managed to compose myself and push on to
the top. To be honest, I have no recollection of what my first
thoughts were when I eventually got there. I remember getting to
the top but the first two or three minutes are a complete blur. I
then decided to get my camera out to take some pictures and it
takes me another couple of minutes to remember how it works. You
really do feel disorientated but eventually I get there. When I
finally come round, the view of the sunrise coming from below the
clouds and the sense of achievement is awe inspiring.
I can’t put the rest into words, so hopefully the pictures will
tell the story for me. There are four main pictures that I hope
will describe the overwhelming feelings and the experience of
getting to the top. The first one is of poor Sam Ryder. This is not
the most flattering picture of Sam but it is a very good reflection
of how we were all feeling at the top and what it took out of you.
The second is a picture of the sunrise. If you look closely, you
may be able to see the curvature of the Earth in the cloud line.
The picture does not do this justice, as it was much clearer than
this to the naked eye. The third is a picture of the Glacier from
the top. This is one of my favourites as it shows you a bit more of
the mountain and just how low the clouds are. Last but by no means
least, is a picture of Kilimanjaro from a distance. This was taken
on the way back down from the summit, as there was so much cloud,
we never got to see it on the way up. Perhaps this was a good
thing, as we never had a mental picture of what actually faced us.
I’m glad we did get to see it though as it confirms in our minds
just how tough it really was.