As we leave our camp, head torches lit, we are nagged by the wind whipping across our faces and through to our bones. Looking up the mountain, there is a river of white lights winding towards the top... the people who've started the ascent earlier. I turn on my garmin watch, stick it in my pocket and forget about it - I figure it'll be fun to see how much it records and when the battery dies out, so be it. (It lasted for 5h:23m.... during which time we went from 15,400ft to 18,100ft above sea level in 2.05 miles).
Not too long into the walk, Heidi had to stop - she wasn't feeling good. Sam called me over and instructed Alpha to take Heidi's snacks out of my bag and hold them for her. He then told us she was going to continue behind us with Alpha at a slower pace - so we had to leave her behind. I kept looking back for the 2 headlamps with great hope - but the time we reached the rest stop, they were no longer able to be seen.
The wind slows down for a short bit, so Sally and I take advantage of the time to "send an email" only there were no "internet cafes" nearby, so I simply turned my bright light on and shined it in the way of people who might venture our way. Blinding people, I've found, works just as well as finding a rock.
At the second stop my head started hurting a bit so I took some ibuprofen. Either at the first or second Dominique mentioned wishing that we took more stops for shorter periods of time because the pace was too much.
We half shuffle our feet in order to move forward - the ground is loose sand/rock/dirt but at the bottom (where we were) at least it wasn't that steep. The wind continued to taunt us - and I'd bring my buff up to cover my cheeks and nose, then have to put it down again because it got too hot. As I'm sure you are aware, mittens are more difficult to use than gloves and more than once, I lost the grip of the buff/balaclava when trying to position it and it snapped back at my face like someone snapping a rubber band - ow! My right cheek felt like it was frostbitten as it was so sore, cold and raw from the wind (it wasn't, by the way). I tried to zip the down jacket collar up to block the wind some more, but it only half helped and it felt very constrictive (probably because I had 4 other turtleneck-height shirts on underneath). Still, we pushed on.
The guides were singing songs that sounded like musical wonders... I'm sure they would have been beautiful to listen to at any point, but here on the mountain when all you did was point your light to the ground in front of you and watch the feet of the person you were following in order to step safely, the songs were heavenly... taking your mind off the task at hand. It seemed colder and more difficult any time they stopped.
Sally and I wondered if we'd reached the "nightmare" yet - as described by the itinerary I'd read only after booking my flight 3 months earlier. We decided it couldn't be yet... because while it was difficult, it didn't feel nearly impossible. I let her know, once again, I would not be doing the mountain in Argentina, and she said she just knew I'd change my mind when all this was over- I reiterated that I would not. I told Sam that while I really loved hiking (and, indeed, had enjoyed the last 4 days immensely - well, except the being cold, sleeping in a sleeping bag, in a tent with no shower bit) this climb we were experiencing just wasn't fun and I don't have any desire to spend this much money on something as not-fun as this ever again.
We get to another break and my body is hating me... my headache is back and I'm crazy tired. I thought the biggest problem would be not breathing, but that isn't bothering me... maybe because I'm used to being short of breath when I work out? Who knows. The head guide, Sam, asked us each how we were doing. I replied "exhausted" he asked "exhausted?" so I said "really tired" and he said "the mountain makes you tired, it's OK"... a line I heard him repeat to at least 3 others. Shaniz asked how I was doing and I said I was about to curse someone.... to which Sally answered "um, that would be me" and Shaniz said "why?" and I said "because she made me climb this @#$%ing mountain!" Yup, the potty mouth had emerged. Sally, on the other hand, was a fountain of energy... convinced this wasn't anywhere close to the difficulty she'd been told and that it was a bunch of hoopla made to scare people.
We start off again and not too far along we stop. I had just started to get warm again, the stop annoyed me. We started up again, just started getting warm and again, we stop. Now I'm cursing. Dominique is in front and it appears her desire for many stops is being honored. We start again and soon after I see her fall to the ground... so we stop. Now, I'm not going to lie, I'm getting more than annoyed. I know the longer it takes us to get there, the more my head is going to hurt, my face is going to freeze and my energy is going to decline. Every time we stop, Sam and I turn to try to have the wind at our back as we just wait- wind sneaking in around all the layers and daring us to go on. The next time we stop, I just sit down on the mountain. The time after that I yell "can we please keep moving" and a couple more after that I yell "can we please break into 2 groups". I don't mean to be mean... really, but I know others were thinking it and my will to move on was getting chipped away with every stop. At this point even Sally was starting to feel it and she let me know that she'd hit a wall too.
I knew I needed to eat more... my body was tired. Sally gave me a bar... I ripped off the top and couldn't think of what to do with it. I didn't want to throw it on the mountain (I'm not going to litter like so many others before me - it disgusts me) but I can't find my pocket in the down jacket I rented and I can't use my other hand to open a zipper because it's holding the bar. Now, under normal circumstances "how to throw away part of a wrapper" would not be a big deal... but here, on the mountain, with my hands in mittens, my face hurting from the cold, my legs not wanting to walk and my head with an increased pain, it was a huge issue. I decided the best thing to do would be to put it down my jacket. Now, I'm sure somewhere between this moment and the time I reached base camp, that little piece of trash made it's way to the mountain floor... but when I put it there, it was the best I could come up with. Next was eating the bar. If someone had held it to my mouth, I think I could have eaten it - I hadn't lost my appetite. However the energy it took to move my hand from my side, up to my mouth and hold it there while I took a bite? well, that lasted for one bite and I was exhausted. Now that I had 2 hands available, I opened the zipper on the side of my backpack and put it in. I was back to focusing on walking... one step at a time... pole, pole.
We arrive at another break area and Sam comes by to ask everyone how we are... I look at him and say "exhausted". He'd gone to Sally first and asked if she wanted him to take her bag (because she said she was tired too) and she'd said no. When he asked me, I said yes, with a feeling of relief that a huge weight (literally and figuratively) had been lifted off my shoulder. Now - you know how independent and strong minding I am.... usually my pride would stand in my way and I would prove how strong and fit I was (because, truthfully, I felt I trained hard and was one of the strongest and most fit of the group)... however, my body was shutting down and I wanted to make it to the summit... no longer focused on Uhuru, now just Gillman's. So, Sam took my bag and gave it to someone and said "Gideon will be carrying your bag". I didn't know Gideon (well, I didn't realize who it was, as I didn't look up I just nodded and said OK) so I determined he must have been the "summit porter" Sam got to go up with us (we have a head guide and 4 assistant guides, all trained medically for the summit. then there are 8 helping porters, some of whom can be "summit porters" if the head guide needs them - not to help medically, but rather physically if the situation should arise. When Sam suggested we have a summit porter at the briefing the night before, I think it was because we had Heidi who wasn't doing well and Dominique who often went slow... I really don't think anyone thought I'd need one... of course, I wasn't thinking about this on the mountain, it's just hindsight). I also told Sam my head was pounding.. he said to take asprin, which I didn't have... so I said I had ibuprofen and he said to go ahead and take that.
We move on again... finally we separate into 2 groups and Dominique is left with Hubert (one of the guides) who was already carrying her bag as she had rented oxygen and had that on her back. The mountain was much steeper now and still loose dirt/rocks were under our feet. We were so close to the stars, it seemed like we'd be able to grab the handle of the big dipper. Soon the sun started peaking through and I was looking forward to the warmth it would provide. Shuffling our feet, I kept telling myself "left, right, left, right" trying to help my legs along. Sometimes my words didn't match my feet so I'd stop saying it and try to figure out what the pattern was in order to start again. This is one of the little games I played in my head to encourage a movement forward. We could see more of the mountain, and it was clear how steep it was... it was also apparent that a night climb was smart - even though the summit seemed to get farther and farther away when you look up and see the lights of people ahead of you.... you can't see the grade and realize if you fell you'd probably just roll all the way down the mountain, bumping over rocks and stones along the way.
We take a break. I ask Gideon for my gatorade - my friend Michele had told me about the loss of energy/need for snack, so I packed some gatorade thinking it'd be a good way to replenish what I'd lost. Gideon handed me my bag (at this point I recognized him... he was the happy man who set the table for use each night and brought us food). I looked at him because I couldn't open it. He unzipped my bag and I pointed to the gatorade and said "the yellow bottle" he took out the blue one (he's not fluent in English) and i shook my head and pointed to the other - happy it wasn't frozen (as my mouthpiece from my camel back had been frozen earlier and Sally suggested I keep it in my coat... we'd already been warned to blow back into the camel back after taking a sip so the passageway wouldn't freeze... and we were also told to pack our warm water bottles upside down, so when they did freeze they'd freeze on the bottom (or top- since they were upside down) and we'd still have water on top). Anyway, he handed me the bottle. I held it and couldn't do anything, so I handed it back. He unscrewed the top and handed it to me. I held it and couldn't do anything, so I gave it back. He fed me the bottle until I put my hand up to tell him to stop... then motioned for more... then motioned to stop. I offered the bottle to others and then Gideon put it back. I told Sally "I'm only going to Gillman's" she asked if I was sure, reminding me that this was the only time in my life that I'd be here... that I'd never have the chance again (Sally and I are almost the same person and we both have a little crazy in us when it comes to things we do, so she was my inner-self talking). I told her I was sure. She said, OK.
We start up again... now the steep grade of the mountain has turned into boulders. We decided the "nightmare" part of the itinerary had indeed started. We have to step up to get up... at one point I start to lose my balance so I use my pole to push me into the side of the mountain - where I kind of fell into it/sat down. Someone picked me up and we kept going. The only thing moving me forward is knowing I've come too far to turn around... even though I started wondering if I was dying... if the HAPE or HACE had started... I've never experienced a headache like the one that was going through my head at that moment. One of the guides points ahead and said "there's Gilman's point" and even though it was close, it looked like we'd have to climb another mountain just to get there. head down, small steps, you can do it - is what I told myself.
Finally I reached the top... in tears. (Gilman's Point is 5681m/18,638ft above sea level). The sun had come up by now (it was a beautiful sunrise over Mawenzi when I did look at a few times coming up and I was sad that my camera was so many layers down for fear it would freeze and not work, because I really wished I could have taken pics of the sunrise and part of the ascent). Sally came over and hugged me and when she saw my tears, she started crying too. I asked someone to take my picture in front of the sign.... explaining that my camera was 3 layers down. He took my picture with Sam and Sally... then I asked him to take a couple others (please take a picture of the glacier, thank you... now the other mountain top, thank you... now me with the guides, thank you). Rhiannon and James' camera died when they reached the top, so I gave them mine and said to fire away. I overheard Judith ask a guide if she should give me some of her oxygen and he said "no, she'd going down". Then I saw head guide Sam and he said "are you going down?" and I said "yes" and he said "that's a good idea". Sally asked if I was absolutely sure. I confirmed with a guide "it's just about 2 more hours to Uhuru, right?" "yes"... I turned to Sally and said "I can't do this for 2 more hours" She said she understood. Someone told me "Gideon will bring you down" at which point Gideon, all smiles, came over to me and nodded... I nodded back with my best attempt at a smile, wished everyone luck and headed down "pole, pole" as he he told me. Not too long after leaving I saw Dominique making her way up - she asked how much farther... I pointed to the green sign and said "that's it" and wished her luck. After going down the boulders pole, pole, we got to the loose dirt/scree. Gideon showed me how to walk in it.... putting your heel down and sliding... right, left, right, left. Now, I imagine this could be fun if one had a ton of energy... but for me it wasn't fun... I'd rather a sled that would just take me down quickly. At one point early on I fell... and rather than get up, I just laid back and closed my eyes. Ready to sleep. Wanting my head to stop feeling like it'd explode... thinking "if only I bought the evacuation insurance I'd just sit here and wait to be rescued"... then Gideon was over me saying "no sleeping on mountain, sleep at Kibo Huts" and I said, "no thank you, I'd like to sleep here" and he repeated "no sleeping on mountain, sleep at Kibo Huts.... water?" so he fed me more water and I dragged my butt up to go down some more. This scene repeated itself at least 3 times... poor Gideon, he kept smiling when all I wanted to do was stop and give up... "pole, pole...sleep at kibo hut"
I have no idea how long it took us to get down. I keep waiting for my headache to go away - because the way you get rid of altitude sickness is to go down the mountain... with every step I was hoping it would disappear... but to no avail... it just pounded and pounded and pounded - I would have cried, but that'd take too much energy. The darn huts seemed to get farther and farther away (much like the peak had on our way up). Eventually we made it back... I thanked Gideon and Heidi came out of the tent - worried I was back (turns out she'd turned around half way.... when Alpha said "this is the halfway point" she said "screw it, I'm going back" quite frankly, knowing what I know now, she's a way stronger woman that I am, because I don't think I'd have made it that far feeling like she did). I went to the bathroom and came back to the tent and told Heidi I thought I was dying (yeah, I can be a bit dramatic). She told me to lay down and pass out... I said I needed my shoes and gaitors off... she said "ok" and I said "i can't do it" so my dear friend heidi was kind enough to take off my shoes and dusty gaitors... I rolled over and fell asleep (knowing I'd have at least 2 hours before the rest came down).
After waking up, my headache was still there - I asked Heidi to get Alpha (the guide who'd been with her, so I knew he was at camp). I asked Alpha if we could go to the lower camp because I was in bad shape... he said take an ibuprofen, it wouldn't be long before the rest came down... we could leave if we had to, but he recommended we wait. I asked if cook would make some soup, then, because I knew my body had depleted all energy. Bless him, the cook made some soup and although it took a lot of effort to eat it, it was a welcome, much needed meal. In the meantime, Dominique had come down the mountain as well - she'd turned around at Gillman's too. Doug was the first down from the Uhuru trip... followed by Sam.... the others trickled in.
When Sally got back, she was in tears and said she was never climbing another !@#$ing mountain again. I said "promise?" she said "promise." As I listened to them talk about the trip to Uhuru (very difficult) and the view from there (short) and the physical reactions of the group (diarrhea, headaches, Rhiannon having to be practically carried down by Sam), I decided it was a good thing I turned around. To boot, Sally said they removed the sign we'd all seen in pictures for Uhuru peak and replaced it with a green street-sign... like they had a Gilman's (we find out later this happened in Dec). I'm not going to lie - that would have really pissed me off if I made it and didn't even get the "authentic" sign picture.
They call us for lunch. I'm the first one in the tent, followed by Dominique. I fall asleep waiting for others (waking up when Doug comes in and sits next to me... or was it across from me? whatever). Everyone is in bad sorts... James thinks Rhiannon might have popped a lung... yes, I'm happy I turned around.
After lunch we get back on the road and have to walk 3-4 hours to Horombo Huts (3720m/12,200ft) - now we are on the Marangu trail. We were thinking it would be all downhill, but they snuck in a few uphills along the way. Doug and Shaniz went ahead, Sally and I walked with Hubert and the rest followed behind with Lemeck. When we got to dinner at the Horombo Huts all of us felt better as far as altitude symptoms (headaches, nausea, appetite) but most of us were feeling a cold/flu coming on. My nose was running and I had a sore throat... others were coughing. It seemed our bodies were retaliating for all we'd put them through. We worked out the tips as the next day was the tipping ceremonies. The company gave us a tipping breakdown recommendation - which Sally nominated me to oversee since I'd done it on the Inca Trail. We were happy to have collected more money than the recommended amount, therefore giving the staff a little bonus.
Wonder what they get for all the work they do? Here's the recommended range/what we gave:
Head Guide (Sam): $70-100/$123
Assist Guide (we had 4): $45-55 (each)/ $68 (each)
Cook: $50-65/$80
Helping porters (we had 8) $25-35/ $43(each)
Ordinary porters (we had 22) $20-25/ $31 (each)
I'll review the tipping ceremony on the Day 6 story.
After working out the tips, we were all ready for a nice long sleep - at the briefing we were told we'd be up at 6 tomorrow and there was no time for dilly-dallying!
Click for pictures
Not too long into the walk, Heidi had to stop - she wasn't feeling good. Sam called me over and instructed Alpha to take Heidi's snacks out of my bag and hold them for her. He then told us she was going to continue behind us with Alpha at a slower pace - so we had to leave her behind. I kept looking back for the 2 headlamps with great hope - but the time we reached the rest stop, they were no longer able to be seen.
The wind slows down for a short bit, so Sally and I take advantage of the time to "send an email" only there were no "internet cafes" nearby, so I simply turned my bright light on and shined it in the way of people who might venture our way. Blinding people, I've found, works just as well as finding a rock.
At the second stop my head started hurting a bit so I took some ibuprofen. Either at the first or second Dominique mentioned wishing that we took more stops for shorter periods of time because the pace was too much.
We half shuffle our feet in order to move forward - the ground is loose sand/rock/dirt but at the bottom (where we were) at least it wasn't that steep. The wind continued to taunt us - and I'd bring my buff up to cover my cheeks and nose, then have to put it down again because it got too hot. As I'm sure you are aware, mittens are more difficult to use than gloves and more than once, I lost the grip of the buff/balaclava when trying to position it and it snapped back at my face like someone snapping a rubber band - ow! My right cheek felt like it was frostbitten as it was so sore, cold and raw from the wind (it wasn't, by the way). I tried to zip the down jacket collar up to block the wind some more, but it only half helped and it felt very constrictive (probably because I had 4 other turtleneck-height shirts on underneath). Still, we pushed on.
The guides were singing songs that sounded like musical wonders... I'm sure they would have been beautiful to listen to at any point, but here on the mountain when all you did was point your light to the ground in front of you and watch the feet of the person you were following in order to step safely, the songs were heavenly... taking your mind off the task at hand. It seemed colder and more difficult any time they stopped.
Sally and I wondered if we'd reached the "nightmare" yet - as described by the itinerary I'd read only after booking my flight 3 months earlier. We decided it couldn't be yet... because while it was difficult, it didn't feel nearly impossible. I let her know, once again, I would not be doing the mountain in Argentina, and she said she just knew I'd change my mind when all this was over- I reiterated that I would not. I told Sam that while I really loved hiking (and, indeed, had enjoyed the last 4 days immensely - well, except the being cold, sleeping in a sleeping bag, in a tent with no shower bit) this climb we were experiencing just wasn't fun and I don't have any desire to spend this much money on something as not-fun as this ever again.
We get to another break and my body is hating me... my headache is back and I'm crazy tired. I thought the biggest problem would be not breathing, but that isn't bothering me... maybe because I'm used to being short of breath when I work out? Who knows. The head guide, Sam, asked us each how we were doing. I replied "exhausted" he asked "exhausted?" so I said "really tired" and he said "the mountain makes you tired, it's OK"... a line I heard him repeat to at least 3 others. Shaniz asked how I was doing and I said I was about to curse someone.... to which Sally answered "um, that would be me" and Shaniz said "why?" and I said "because she made me climb this @#$%ing mountain!" Yup, the potty mouth had emerged. Sally, on the other hand, was a fountain of energy... convinced this wasn't anywhere close to the difficulty she'd been told and that it was a bunch of hoopla made to scare people.
We start off again and not too far along we stop. I had just started to get warm again, the stop annoyed me. We started up again, just started getting warm and again, we stop. Now I'm cursing. Dominique is in front and it appears her desire for many stops is being honored. We start again and soon after I see her fall to the ground... so we stop. Now, I'm not going to lie, I'm getting more than annoyed. I know the longer it takes us to get there, the more my head is going to hurt, my face is going to freeze and my energy is going to decline. Every time we stop, Sam and I turn to try to have the wind at our back as we just wait- wind sneaking in around all the layers and daring us to go on. The next time we stop, I just sit down on the mountain. The time after that I yell "can we please keep moving" and a couple more after that I yell "can we please break into 2 groups". I don't mean to be mean... really, but I know others were thinking it and my will to move on was getting chipped away with every stop. At this point even Sally was starting to feel it and she let me know that she'd hit a wall too.
I knew I needed to eat more... my body was tired. Sally gave me a bar... I ripped off the top and couldn't think of what to do with it. I didn't want to throw it on the mountain (I'm not going to litter like so many others before me - it disgusts me) but I can't find my pocket in the down jacket I rented and I can't use my other hand to open a zipper because it's holding the bar. Now, under normal circumstances "how to throw away part of a wrapper" would not be a big deal... but here, on the mountain, with my hands in mittens, my face hurting from the cold, my legs not wanting to walk and my head with an increased pain, it was a huge issue. I decided the best thing to do would be to put it down my jacket. Now, I'm sure somewhere between this moment and the time I reached base camp, that little piece of trash made it's way to the mountain floor... but when I put it there, it was the best I could come up with. Next was eating the bar. If someone had held it to my mouth, I think I could have eaten it - I hadn't lost my appetite. However the energy it took to move my hand from my side, up to my mouth and hold it there while I took a bite? well, that lasted for one bite and I was exhausted. Now that I had 2 hands available, I opened the zipper on the side of my backpack and put it in. I was back to focusing on walking... one step at a time... pole, pole.
We arrive at another break area and Sam comes by to ask everyone how we are... I look at him and say "exhausted". He'd gone to Sally first and asked if she wanted him to take her bag (because she said she was tired too) and she'd said no. When he asked me, I said yes, with a feeling of relief that a huge weight (literally and figuratively) had been lifted off my shoulder. Now - you know how independent and strong minding I am.... usually my pride would stand in my way and I would prove how strong and fit I was (because, truthfully, I felt I trained hard and was one of the strongest and most fit of the group)... however, my body was shutting down and I wanted to make it to the summit... no longer focused on Uhuru, now just Gillman's. So, Sam took my bag and gave it to someone and said "Gideon will be carrying your bag". I didn't know Gideon (well, I didn't realize who it was, as I didn't look up I just nodded and said OK) so I determined he must have been the "summit porter" Sam got to go up with us (we have a head guide and 4 assistant guides, all trained medically for the summit. then there are 8 helping porters, some of whom can be "summit porters" if the head guide needs them - not to help medically, but rather physically if the situation should arise. When Sam suggested we have a summit porter at the briefing the night before, I think it was because we had Heidi who wasn't doing well and Dominique who often went slow... I really don't think anyone thought I'd need one... of course, I wasn't thinking about this on the mountain, it's just hindsight). I also told Sam my head was pounding.. he said to take asprin, which I didn't have... so I said I had ibuprofen and he said to go ahead and take that.
We move on again... finally we separate into 2 groups and Dominique is left with Hubert (one of the guides) who was already carrying her bag as she had rented oxygen and had that on her back. The mountain was much steeper now and still loose dirt/rocks were under our feet. We were so close to the stars, it seemed like we'd be able to grab the handle of the big dipper. Soon the sun started peaking through and I was looking forward to the warmth it would provide. Shuffling our feet, I kept telling myself "left, right, left, right" trying to help my legs along. Sometimes my words didn't match my feet so I'd stop saying it and try to figure out what the pattern was in order to start again. This is one of the little games I played in my head to encourage a movement forward. We could see more of the mountain, and it was clear how steep it was... it was also apparent that a night climb was smart - even though the summit seemed to get farther and farther away when you look up and see the lights of people ahead of you.... you can't see the grade and realize if you fell you'd probably just roll all the way down the mountain, bumping over rocks and stones along the way.
We take a break. I ask Gideon for my gatorade - my friend Michele had told me about the loss of energy/need for snack, so I packed some gatorade thinking it'd be a good way to replenish what I'd lost. Gideon handed me my bag (at this point I recognized him... he was the happy man who set the table for use each night and brought us food). I looked at him because I couldn't open it. He unzipped my bag and I pointed to the gatorade and said "the yellow bottle" he took out the blue one (he's not fluent in English) and i shook my head and pointed to the other - happy it wasn't frozen (as my mouthpiece from my camel back had been frozen earlier and Sally suggested I keep it in my coat... we'd already been warned to blow back into the camel back after taking a sip so the passageway wouldn't freeze... and we were also told to pack our warm water bottles upside down, so when they did freeze they'd freeze on the bottom (or top- since they were upside down) and we'd still have water on top). Anyway, he handed me the bottle. I held it and couldn't do anything, so I handed it back. He unscrewed the top and handed it to me. I held it and couldn't do anything, so I gave it back. He fed me the bottle until I put my hand up to tell him to stop... then motioned for more... then motioned to stop. I offered the bottle to others and then Gideon put it back. I told Sally "I'm only going to Gillman's" she asked if I was sure, reminding me that this was the only time in my life that I'd be here... that I'd never have the chance again (Sally and I are almost the same person and we both have a little crazy in us when it comes to things we do, so she was my inner-self talking). I told her I was sure. She said, OK.
We start up again... now the steep grade of the mountain has turned into boulders. We decided the "nightmare" part of the itinerary had indeed started. We have to step up to get up... at one point I start to lose my balance so I use my pole to push me into the side of the mountain - where I kind of fell into it/sat down. Someone picked me up and we kept going. The only thing moving me forward is knowing I've come too far to turn around... even though I started wondering if I was dying... if the HAPE or HACE had started... I've never experienced a headache like the one that was going through my head at that moment. One of the guides points ahead and said "there's Gilman's point" and even though it was close, it looked like we'd have to climb another mountain just to get there. head down, small steps, you can do it - is what I told myself.
Finally I reached the top... in tears. (Gilman's Point is 5681m/18,638ft above sea level). The sun had come up by now (it was a beautiful sunrise over Mawenzi when I did look at a few times coming up and I was sad that my camera was so many layers down for fear it would freeze and not work, because I really wished I could have taken pics of the sunrise and part of the ascent). Sally came over and hugged me and when she saw my tears, she started crying too. I asked someone to take my picture in front of the sign.... explaining that my camera was 3 layers down. He took my picture with Sam and Sally... then I asked him to take a couple others (please take a picture of the glacier, thank you... now the other mountain top, thank you... now me with the guides, thank you). Rhiannon and James' camera died when they reached the top, so I gave them mine and said to fire away. I overheard Judith ask a guide if she should give me some of her oxygen and he said "no, she'd going down". Then I saw head guide Sam and he said "are you going down?" and I said "yes" and he said "that's a good idea". Sally asked if I was absolutely sure. I confirmed with a guide "it's just about 2 more hours to Uhuru, right?" "yes"... I turned to Sally and said "I can't do this for 2 more hours" She said she understood. Someone told me "Gideon will bring you down" at which point Gideon, all smiles, came over to me and nodded... I nodded back with my best attempt at a smile, wished everyone luck and headed down "pole, pole" as he he told me. Not too long after leaving I saw Dominique making her way up - she asked how much farther... I pointed to the green sign and said "that's it" and wished her luck. After going down the boulders pole, pole, we got to the loose dirt/scree. Gideon showed me how to walk in it.... putting your heel down and sliding... right, left, right, left. Now, I imagine this could be fun if one had a ton of energy... but for me it wasn't fun... I'd rather a sled that would just take me down quickly. At one point early on I fell... and rather than get up, I just laid back and closed my eyes. Ready to sleep. Wanting my head to stop feeling like it'd explode... thinking "if only I bought the evacuation insurance I'd just sit here and wait to be rescued"... then Gideon was over me saying "no sleeping on mountain, sleep at Kibo Huts" and I said, "no thank you, I'd like to sleep here" and he repeated "no sleeping on mountain, sleep at Kibo Huts.... water?" so he fed me more water and I dragged my butt up to go down some more. This scene repeated itself at least 3 times... poor Gideon, he kept smiling when all I wanted to do was stop and give up... "pole, pole...sleep at kibo hut"
I have no idea how long it took us to get down. I keep waiting for my headache to go away - because the way you get rid of altitude sickness is to go down the mountain... with every step I was hoping it would disappear... but to no avail... it just pounded and pounded and pounded - I would have cried, but that'd take too much energy. The darn huts seemed to get farther and farther away (much like the peak had on our way up). Eventually we made it back... I thanked Gideon and Heidi came out of the tent - worried I was back (turns out she'd turned around half way.... when Alpha said "this is the halfway point" she said "screw it, I'm going back" quite frankly, knowing what I know now, she's a way stronger woman that I am, because I don't think I'd have made it that far feeling like she did). I went to the bathroom and came back to the tent and told Heidi I thought I was dying (yeah, I can be a bit dramatic). She told me to lay down and pass out... I said I needed my shoes and gaitors off... she said "ok" and I said "i can't do it" so my dear friend heidi was kind enough to take off my shoes and dusty gaitors... I rolled over and fell asleep (knowing I'd have at least 2 hours before the rest came down).
After waking up, my headache was still there - I asked Heidi to get Alpha (the guide who'd been with her, so I knew he was at camp). I asked Alpha if we could go to the lower camp because I was in bad shape... he said take an ibuprofen, it wouldn't be long before the rest came down... we could leave if we had to, but he recommended we wait. I asked if cook would make some soup, then, because I knew my body had depleted all energy. Bless him, the cook made some soup and although it took a lot of effort to eat it, it was a welcome, much needed meal. In the meantime, Dominique had come down the mountain as well - she'd turned around at Gillman's too. Doug was the first down from the Uhuru trip... followed by Sam.... the others trickled in.
When Sally got back, she was in tears and said she was never climbing another !@#$ing mountain again. I said "promise?" she said "promise." As I listened to them talk about the trip to Uhuru (very difficult) and the view from there (short) and the physical reactions of the group (diarrhea, headaches, Rhiannon having to be practically carried down by Sam), I decided it was a good thing I turned around. To boot, Sally said they removed the sign we'd all seen in pictures for Uhuru peak and replaced it with a green street-sign... like they had a Gilman's (we find out later this happened in Dec). I'm not going to lie - that would have really pissed me off if I made it and didn't even get the "authentic" sign picture.
They call us for lunch. I'm the first one in the tent, followed by Dominique. I fall asleep waiting for others (waking up when Doug comes in and sits next to me... or was it across from me? whatever). Everyone is in bad sorts... James thinks Rhiannon might have popped a lung... yes, I'm happy I turned around.
After lunch we get back on the road and have to walk 3-4 hours to Horombo Huts (3720m/12,200ft) - now we are on the Marangu trail. We were thinking it would be all downhill, but they snuck in a few uphills along the way. Doug and Shaniz went ahead, Sally and I walked with Hubert and the rest followed behind with Lemeck. When we got to dinner at the Horombo Huts all of us felt better as far as altitude symptoms (headaches, nausea, appetite) but most of us were feeling a cold/flu coming on. My nose was running and I had a sore throat... others were coughing. It seemed our bodies were retaliating for all we'd put them through. We worked out the tips as the next day was the tipping ceremonies. The company gave us a tipping breakdown recommendation - which Sally nominated me to oversee since I'd done it on the Inca Trail. We were happy to have collected more money than the recommended amount, therefore giving the staff a little bonus.
Wonder what they get for all the work they do? Here's the recommended range/what we gave:
Head Guide (Sam): $70-100/$123
Assist Guide (we had 4): $45-55 (each)/ $68 (each)
Cook: $50-65/$80
Helping porters (we had 8) $25-35/ $43(each)
Ordinary porters (we had 22) $20-25/ $31 (each)
I'll review the tipping ceremony on the Day 6 story.
After working out the tips, we were all ready for a nice long sleep - at the briefing we were told we'd be up at 6 tomorrow and there was no time for dilly-dallying!
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