The Summit

I don’t think I slept in the few hours before we left on summit night. Our tent was on rocks and I was anxious about the climb. We were sent to sleep at about 10 and woken at midnight by the porters. I shoved on every pair of socks that I had with me, zipped up my jacket and walked down the rocks to have a nervous pee. I had been nervous the whole hike, worried about altitude sickness and not making it to the top. One member of our group had descended days ago and I was convinced I would be next.

It was hard to find somewhere to go, maybe everyone was as nervous as I was. I decided on a spot a few metres from Lindsay and pulled down my pants. Holding onto the rocks in front of me, I was looking down, concentrating on not pissing on myself. Unsurprisingly, I lost my balance and went ass-over-head backwards down the rock face. Tumbling down the rocks I somehow managed not to pee all over myself while tumbling down. Lindsay ran down giggling to help me back up the rocks, and I headed off with her to Uhuru peak, covered in bandaids and embarrassment.

Summit night is hard to remember. I don’t know if this is because it was six hours of monotonous walking uphill in the dark or the altitude, but it is a blur. We shared water and snacks and tried and encourage each other. I remember being freezing and thirsty but the time seemed to pass quickly.

The sun started to rise and we stopped to see light creep through the clouds. It was ethereal; never in my life have I seen anything like that sunrise before. We could see the top, and it made me realise that I was nearly there. I suddenly stopped doubting myself; I knew I was going to make it.

In the last few hours of the climb, people on their way down from summit congratulated us and clapped us on. Exhausted, we trudged up to the sign that marked the peak. I was delirious with pride and altitude sickness at the top. I remember laughing and crying, hugging the guides and my friends and taking photos in front of the sign.

Tired and thirsty, the descent to base camp was long and laborious. When we got back to camp, I collapsed into my sleeping bag and fell asleep straight away, not noticing the rocks underneath.

Kilimanjaro was relentless and painful. Even if not for the scars or the photos that got more likes than usual, I would never forget it.

If you have ever thought about doing Kilimanjaro: do it. It is excruciating and it is empowering and it is truly humbling. The whole experience is unreal.