On Top of the World

Day 9 - True Date 6/14/13

I will begin by saying two things about the photos. First, there are fewer photos (at least to choose from) than previous days for two reasons: a) Half of today's climbing occurred while it was dark and b) the rest of the day I felt like garbage. The other thing I have to say is an appreciation to Ari - one of our assistant guides who offered to take the camera and some photos once the sun was up.

Today was definitely among our longest days so far. By that I mean it was easily THE longest day we had so far. We woke up at 4:00 am and had an early/immediate breakfast of porridge and toast. As usual, the stars were spectacular - though that was usual an evening observation as opposed to morning. I realize the beauty of the stars becomes repetitive to say as a result of no lights, no trees and no clouds. It was the coldest temperature we experienced yet and it was a combination of both the early hour and the high altitude. We were all clothed in our maximal layers and left the campsite promptly at 5:00 am.

At 5 we headed away from the Arrow Glacier Camp (15,970 ft) and towards the Western Bridge (our final ascent route). As expected from yesterday's acclimatization hike, the path was a collection of loose rocks and scree. We were hiking in the dark with the trail illuminated by headlamp and we had to choose the placements of our footsteps carefully. Our steps were as small as they'd been all trip, moving forward by the motto "pole pole". It was likely only 30 minutes into the climb when we took our first break on the constant switchbacks to shed some layers and have some water.

It seemed a long time before the trail ever changed. It continued back and forth, always up, always on loose footing. It seemed we'd travel 20 steps up and to the left, then 20 up and to the right... back and forth we'd go but always up. After what I estimate as about an hour and a half we began to observe differences in the terrain, though these differences varied from place to place. Sometimes the trail crossed patches of larger rocks that were all frozen solid in place by the night's ice. Sometimes we crossed patches of crunchy snow atop of the scree and sometimes there were rock scrambles up short, but steep, ridges that required us to use our hands to scale.

We continued to periodically take breaks along the trail. One thing I found was that no matter how far or how high we climbed, we had never gone as high or as far as I'd imagined. The top of the Western Breach was (or appeared to be from below) a sheer cliff before the ash crater. While that was not completely accurate, it was very steep and required many more vertical scrambles. The problem this cliff caused mentally was that as a huge wall, it looked large from below, and larger still up close. It was an impossible landmark to attempt to judge distance and progress by.

For a while now the sun had been approaching the crest of the mountain and we no longer needed our headlamps. Every time we stopped to take a break the cliff before us continued to loom but we could also look backwards down the extraordinarily steep path we'd just ascended. Our camp was often hidden by some ridge or rock but it was clear from this view just how steep the path was. Beyond the campsite below us we could see the trail we'd hiked

for days as it wound it's way back over ridges and into the distance beyond. As we climbed the sun slowly shed more and more light on the scenery around us. Unfortunately, despite the immense beauty that surrounded us with these views, it was often uncomfortable to turn and face the open view and the massive drop below us.

Altitude sickness had begun to effect many of us to some extent by this point. The guides were spectacular and offered to help share the weight people carried, all

while staying positive and always encouraging. However, omitting the details of individual sufferings, it was reassuring to see that the guides were out of breath themselves and many of the porters clearly suffered on this last ascent as well. It's always nice to see the people who impress you are still human. A little after 9:00 we finally crested the ridge

atop the Western Breach and had made it to the crater. The sun was out, we all took a much needed rest (both in sickness and in health...but mostly sickness), and we all got down what water we could. From there it was a short and flat (which was much appreciated) walk to the Crater Camp.

This camp sat at an altitude of 18,800 ft and was at the very foot of the final climb

to the summit. We stopped there for close to an hour. Some of the group took naps. Some of us had snacks and drinks and some of us felt too sick to do any of the above, but tried. We, including the porters, had a nice variety in the these activities. The camp was among many small glacier patches that were pretty to look at and walk along.

A little after 10:00 we began the final ascent to the Kibo summit. This last hike was much like the beginning of the Western Breach. Slow and steady, back and forth, always up and lots of loose footings. Once we reached the top of this slope we walked out onto a massive and magnificent glacial field. The view was all white and where the glacier appeared to dip below view it turned into a field of clouds. It was white in all directions for as far as you could see. From there it was a short, and refreshingly gradual walk to Uhuru Peak - the final summit of the mountain. For the first time this trip our group greatly separated in hiking speeds. Some of us were more comfortable moving, while others felt a break

would help their ailments. Altogether, we arrived at Uhuru Peak (19,340 ft), the tallest point in Africa and the summit of the highest free-standing mountain in the world, at 11:30 am. We took our pictures and all started to head down in different pairs and at different rates. While it would have been great to spend more time admiring the achievement, some of us (and definitely me) felt like dying. Our total ascent time to the summit that day was less than 2 miles but was approximately 3,370 vertical feet. The climb took us 5 hours and 40 minutes, bringing the trips total ascent time to just over 23 hours.

We immediately began the descent of the mountain (which I did not record the

times of). The path down the mountain was on the opposite side and offered many

new views. While path near the summit remained an ice field and relatively flat, we quickly returned to rock footings and a much steeper trail. Much of this footing (for much of the descent) was the loose scree we'd had to so carefully walk on to climb. However, when going down each foot placement slid another foot or two and we could slide large distances at a time. This process is what the guides referred to as "African Skiing". The process kicked up tons of dust but was both fast and fun. The further down we got - the better we felt.

As we approached Barafu Camp (~15,000 ft) at about 1:40 pm we walked into a low cloud/fog. It was chilly but brought a constant and refreshing spray of mist. We signed into the ranger log and headed to where our camp was assembled. This took a bit of time because this was the most crowded place we'd seen yet. There were likely 20ish groups all camping here for the night (most of whom were planning to ascend the summit in the morning). While I was no longer feeling the altitude sickness, I did still have a headache from dehydration. So, I drank as much water as I could and collapsed for a nap. We were woken for lunch...some time later... which was a bit of a struggle to get through. I stuck to hot drinks and the fruit.

After lunch I took another nap (as did many others) and was again woken for dinner. Dinner, we were all feeling MUCH better, was warm soup and pasta. We all ate well after such a grueling day and it was nice to feel normal again. Our guide Justin ate with us and we changed the plan for tomorrow from the original schedule. Rather than doing the descent in 2 days we planned to do the entire exit tomorrow and spend the night in a hotel. With the thought of a shower in mind, we all finished our meals and headed to bed.

I would offer a HUGE appreciation to our guides, Justin, Ari and Buster, without whom I and some other likely would have given up.

As a fun fact - I have prepared a visualization to show why you suffer altitude sickness atop of the mountain. In the photo below I have two 1.5 L water bottles. The bottle on top was sealed here in New York at approximately 200 ft elevation which is where we are all used to breathing. The bottle represents the amount of air (and therefore oxygen) we get with one full breath and it is what our body is used to living on. The bottom bottle was sealed at the top of Uhuru Peak (19,340 ft). The bottle is the same size and therefore represents the same full breath of air. However, when we return to our normal elevation the bottle crushes because of how much less air there is. In the picture shown here, the top bottle represents the air collected in 1 breath in New York and the other represents the air we get in one breath atop the mountain.