After saying good-bye to my peers, professors, and host family, I hit the road north once again. Though instead of having my notebook out and ready, I was decked out in hiking boots.
Before coming to Tanzania, I knew I wanted to climb Kilimanjaro. At 5,895 meters, it’s Africa’s tallest peak, and technically speaking, rather simple to climb. The original plan was for Mom to come out to join me, but as time became short and summer became busy, I had to give up on that idea. We’ll just have to wait to tackle thrilling adventures as amazing team until Amazing Race 18 (or whichever season we’re on).
Fortunately I met a group of girls who were planning on climbing around the same time I was, and so the five of us bargained a company for the volunteer price, finished our courses, rented our gear, and hit the Machame route in style.
The first two days were relatively easy: day one was a four-hour stroll through the park; the second day a fun three-hour semi-strenuous and rather vertical hike. It wasn’t until the end of day three that we began to feel the altitude, but compared to those around us, we were doing rather well (with the exception of Christine, who had been sick with a bug since day one).
At midnight on day four, Sarah, Maddie, Ruby, and I set off for the peak with three guides. We were lucky weather wise- no wind, clear skies, and enough moonlight that our headlamps were barely necessary. This final hike is so difficult to describe- never in my life have I wanted so badly to finish a task. None of us wanted to quit, and turning back was definitely not an option, but putting one foot in front of the other for six hours straight was mentally, physically, and emotionally exhausting. At some points our guides had to literally drag us up, our bodies wanted to stop.
When we finally reached the summit (the second team to do so that day), Uhuru peak, at 6:20 am, the sun was also just breaking the horizon. We reached the sign post within minutes of each other, and as soon as the last one made it, we all broke into tears- partially because of the lack of oxygen getting to our brain but also because climbing Kilimanjaro was all of our greatest life achievements to date, and will remain so for a long time.
After our fifteen minutes at the summit were up (any longer and you start loosing brain cells), we sprinted back down the mountain, passing dozens of hikers still going up. The sprint reminded me of racing down Mount Baldy, while wearing snow gear and following a path about thirty times as long. After we made it back to camp, rehydrated and rested a bit, we hiked two/thirds of the way back down the mountain, and hiked out of the park the morning of day six.
Climbing Kilimanjaro has been the most rewarding experience of my life. For the first time my blood, sweat, and tears produced concrete results: I reached the top of a mountain. I am so glad I did it, and would encourage anyone visiting East Africa to do so as well.
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