Kili Story Book

KilimanjaroA Love Story Written by: Christy Duncan Anderson Dedicated to: Ryan Duncan Anderson 1

Altitude is a fickle bitch. She exacts her toll indiscriminately. are planning to embarkLike a middle school mean girl, she might decide to shut on the same trip andyou out and leave you to look around and wonder – was for those of you whoI wearing the wrong shoes? Was I going too fast? Did I are planning on stayingwork hard enough in training to deserve to be here? As warm and safe and liveyou grow out of middle school and realize that it isn’t your vicariously through ourproblem, it’s the mean girl’s. Similarly with altitude sickness journey. In either case,you didn’t do anything wrong. She’s just a fickle bitch. please indulge meSpoiler alert: we made it to the top. That’s not what thisblog is about. It’s about the journey – cliché enough? When The Briefingwe returned to our lives and jobs to say, “yes, we made it tothe top,” doesn’t really seem to encapsulate the experience. I’ve heard stories aboutI need to process the trip as a whole and I hope that in the airline ground crewprocess we can share our adventure for those of you who picking straws to see who draws the short Ryan Exploring Arusha one and is tasked with2 opening the door after a long flight. Appar- ently squashing 525 people into 550 square meters and keeping them strapped there for many hours produces a terrible odor. It is unnotice- able to the passengers because it gradually builds up over time, but coming from clean fresh air immediately into that world reportedly makes the poor ground crew member nearly faint. In Tanzania, it must be the most offensive job in the world because conversely, when you exit the odiferous plane and take a grateful breath, you breathe in the sweet smells of Africa – the sweet smell of earth punctuated by the rambunctiousness

of the Flamboyant Treeafter a light rain.My husband Ryan and Iarrived in the middle of thenight and quickly found ourdriver and were shuttledstraight to the hotel. Afterwaking up the woman at thefront desk to check in, wegratefully fell into our beds.The next day, we took a tourof Arusha that consisted ofthe driver dropping us ofat every tourist trap in the Loom at an NGO for People with Disabilities in Arushatown. There are only 2, so it didn’t take long. I did insist on visiting a pharmacy and pickedup some Flagyl, a drug that I consider a miracle drug for all water-borne illnesses. For amere $1.50, I was able to pick up 3 doses for each of us.That night, we had our briefing meeting to meet our guides and the rest of the group onour expedition. Following some significant confusion, we realized that we had a group allof our own. Relieved that the three Trump-supporting 250 pound women were not in ourgroup, we met our guide, John.John looks like he is no more than 12 years old. The first thing he said to us was, “do youhave 3 pairs of clean socks for the summit day?” An odd question, to be sure, but evenstranger is that’s just about all he said.“Keep your bags under 15kgs. The porters are only allowed to carry 20 and they need someroom for their things.”Fair enough, we thought. But that was it. No other information.“What can we expect? How will each day go? Which is the hardest day? How muchelevation gain in aggregate do we make each day? Where is the gate? Where do wesleep…” We peppered him with questions..All John answered was “Pole – Pole.” Pole – Pole literally translates to “slowly – slowly” andcomes from a Tanzanian proverb: Little by little. A little becomes a lot.Proverbs aside, all this did was provide frustration and tense anticipation. I’m a planner. Ilike to know what is coming up and do whatever I can to mitigate any difficulties ahead. 3

We got nothing - just an old adage to go slowly.Nervousness mounting, we decided to grab some dinner. Over a drink, we did what wealways do when we are anxious – we outlined our expectations. I know we are total nerds,but we’ve learned in the past that we are very different people and knowing each other’sexpectations has saved arguments and perhaps even our marriage.Ryan outlined his goals to include “staying on pace” with the time each day suggested bythe guidebook and learning Swahili. “Let’s do an intensive and ask the guides to speak tous only in Swahili.”Having no such illusions, my goal was to make it to the top and use the time to contem-plate my professional career. My work was in transition with my company going througha merger and my job was changing substantially. It was a time for me to decide if I wantedto jump onboard with the new management and new ideals or if it was time to spread mywings. Not sure where I wanted to go next, I imagined long days hiking and eveningsspent contemplating my future. I had 8 full days without digital access and plenty of spaceto think.We crawled into our bed – anxious but excited for the days ahead. The Fan and Heater Switches at the Guest House Day 1: Londrossi Gate – Mt. Mkubwa (Big Tree Camp) Start – 7,800’ End – 9,500 Distance – 6kmAfter an exhaustive process of research and agonizing over each element of the trip, wedecided to take the Lemosho route. It is an 8-day trek and this relatively new route is4

considered the most beautiful and, due to the acclimatization hikes and number of days hasthe highest success rate – something that made all the difference in my decision. There wasno way I would travel to Africa, talk it up to friends and family, and not summit. I wantedto make sure we had every chance of success.After a great night’s sleep that we didn’t appreciate as much as we should have, we got up,ate breakfast and met John and our Assistant guide, Peter, at 8am for the first of manyweigh-ins for our luggage.As we were waiting for the luggage to be loaded on the already heavy laden van, I casuallywalked over to a woman sitting outside enjoying tea in the morning sun and asked herabout her trek. I was hoping that she could share some details that we didn’t get from ourbriefing the night before.It turns out she had taken the Lemosho route as well, but by the third day decided to bailout. She had run countless marathons, was a triathlete, but struggled with the altitude andeven more with the medicine she was taking to combat altitude as well as malaria. “I wasthrowing up by the third day,” she shook her head; “there was no way I could possiblycontinue.” While it was somehow reassuring that her physical fitness didn’t help her in hersummit bid, it was also worrisome that even a woman with those credentials had to bailout. To say the least, it wasn’t an auspicious beginning to the trek.We climbed into the van and drove for about an hour until a truck came barreling down onOur Heavily Laden Van 5

Packed Vanus, hooting with passengers hanging out the window yelling to us in Swahili. In Africa,vigilance is necessary to survival. Ryan, having grown up in South Africa with stories ofroad pirates and hijackers, looked as nervous as I felt. And for good reason, we were twopeople living in America heading out for an 8-day expedition. They knew we had gear,plenty of warm clothing, and cash for our tips for the guides at the end of the trip.The truck managed to drive up beside us and started an insistent conversation with ourdriver. Talking animatedly, our guides and the driver started yelling back. John and Peterlooked defeated as the driver pulled our van over to the side of the road and both jumpedout and ran into the street.Barely able to breathe, we stuck our heads outside of the van and asked the driver what wasgoing on.“Oh,” he said opening up a cigarette case and calmly lighting one, “something has fallen offthe top.”We drew in some air and attempted to calm our jumpy nerves. By the time John and Peterrejoined us, they were laughing so hard that it was infectious. Perhaps we were all relieved?They told us that our bed cushions had fallen off the top of the van and the truck hadpicked them up for us and were trying to get them back to us.“Those would have been missed,” was all that John said.Back on the road again, we drove another 30 minutes before we stopped at a store on theside of the road. This store was small but well stocked and clean. We bought sodas forourselves as well as John, Peter and the driver. We sat on the dusty steps sipping ginger-aleand wondered about the task ahead.Life is busy. When traveling, I really like to take some time to sit down and enjoy the pace6

Driving Through Arusha in different places around the world. Safe Driving Week The pace in Tanzania is Pole-Pole, to be Arusha Market sure. I enjoyed watching the chickens and playing peek-a-boo with a little girl brave enough to come and interact with us. Suddenly there was a great commotion and several figures emerged through the dust cloud. Big and bright and taking over their entire faces, it was their smiles that we saw first. Our jubilant porters had arrived. My slow dusty store scene changed to one of hustle and bustle as bags were strapped to the roof and more people than we ever thought possible squeezed into the van. The carcophony of voices greeting each other as long lost relatives and intro- ductions was so loud and happy that all fears of the task ahead fled my mind. They left us the front seats and we climbed in … and immediately held our noses. The smell of body odor was so strong that I thought I might actually pass out. As politely as possible, we both held up whatever cloth we could find over our noses and opened the window. It was all I could do to not stick my head out the window like a puppy. We drove, and drove and drove and that soda became a problem for my bladder. We were driving through Africa – it wasn’t like we could just stop at the next gas station. My nervousness started to creep in again…this wasn’t a ride in Disney- land. This was a real challenge – not a theoretical event anymore. 7

The nervousness didn’t But we kept driving. I tried too much for a porter tohelp my full bladder and I to make sure I was carry more than 20KG at anyhad to ask to stop. I walked breathing. time.around some bushes andtook care of my business. Once more we had to stop, Still feeling very nervous, ISomething I’d get really “Mi Baggi, Mi Baggi”. walked around the smallused to doing on the hike. Someone else’ bag had building and saw the CallaAs I stood up, I saw her… fallen off the top of our Lilies growing and finallyour challenge. Huge, rising overloaded van. managed to calm my nerves.out of the desert was Kili. Calla lilies are very Finally we arrived at the important to our family andShe was huge but…I first gate and got out of the have special significance. Itconvinced myself car. Every porter needed to was like a sign that every-completely doable. We can have their packs weighed. thing will be ok.do this. We watched her as As became a regular ritualwe drove through. Eying whenever we entered or After an uncomfortableour prize. Totally doable… left camp, the packs that lunch of fruit and, of all the porters carry were things, fried dough, listeningThen we mentioned it to weighed at every stop. It is to the other AmericanPeter – “Oh no,” he said, very regulated which is, in tourists complain about“that’s Shira Plateau. We my opinion, a good thing. cellphone coverage, wewill sleep there on day 2”. It eliminates the greed of jumped back in the van again the company owner to hire and headed for LomoshoS.H.1.T. less porters in a party each gate. (I did mention to Peter carrying more and more to that perhaps we should moreThat’s one big mountain. save money. It also under- carefully tie down the scored the seriousness of luggage and was met with aOh. My. God. the trip as it was deemed shy smile.) Calla Lilies8

Left: Notice to Esteemed Visitors; Top: At Londosori Gate; Bottom: The PathFinally at the gate, our We started learning Swahili. us as we crested the hill andbaggage was weighed yet I learned to count to 10. And entered the clearing underagain and we were on our about an hour from camp, in Mti-Umb – Big Tree. An aptway. the trees, we saw a black and name as the camp was at the white calabasa monkey. crest of a hill and row afterThe path was absolutely Stopping to take photos, John row of tent sat under thebeautiful. Through the rain and Peter waited out our massive tree. The camp wasforest we walked on a enthusiasm the same way we hopping. There were morewooden lined path for several smile wearily when a house- people (most of them porters)hours. The air was warm guest spends hours photo- at the camp than we hadand humid and the sun graphing antagonizing seen in all of Arushapeeked through the trees and squirrels in our back yard. together.anything seemed possible.We enjoyed that first day and We heard camp before we Now’s probably the time tomarveled in the exotic place saw it. Happy rejoicing mention that we had 10and landscape. voices and laughter greeted porters. 10! And 2 guides. 9

Clockwise from top: Calabassa Monkey; First Night in the Tent; Our CampAt one point Ryan and I wanted to offer to carry some of our stuff as it was a little embar-rassing that to get two foreigners to the top required 12 people. One main guide, oneassistant, one cook, a server for the food, a person to manage the bathrooms and 7 otherpeople, just to carry my 3 pairs of clean socks etc. to get us to the top. We figured, however,that they were all so happy to be working that we would just have to bear the embarrass-ment. Later in the hike, of course, we were grateful of each and every one of them.Our camp consisted of two small tents – one for us to sleep in and one for Peter and John,a bathroom tent – a tent with what I can only describe as a child’s potty inside, a mess tentfor us to take our meals and hang out, and what we lovingly came to refer to as the MagicGreen Tent. That tent magically produced food and housed the remaining porters everynight.That night was cold. I knew that the nights would get cold as we gained altitude, but Ididn’t know that the first night would be so cold. In what became a dreaded ritual, I haddrank plenty of water to keep me hydrated during the day and then woke up in the middleof the night and had to make a break for the bathroom tent. It’s not easy. You have to unzipyour warm sleeping bag, crawl out, unzip the inner layer of the tent and crawl to put onyour shoes. Finally unzip the outer layer and walk over to the bathroom tent and zip thatup. Out of courtesy the first few nights, I also Re-zipped each piece so that Ryan wouldn’t10

wake up and get cold. It was miserable. After the trip, I never wanted to zip another thingfor as long as I live.Another thing that became a ritual started that night: I woke up feeling like vomiting.Sometime in the early morning, we heard a single monkey bark. Then another, and thenanother until we were completely surrounded by the call and recall of Calabasa monkeys.It felt as though we were completely surrounded. It was the most magical feeling to beengulfed by the sounds of the jungle. It was really indescribable in words. To this day, Ican hear the echo of their calls and remember that feeling of being in an enchanted andmystical place. (Colobus Monkey Sounds – monkey sounds begin about 3 minutes in) Day 2: Mt. Mkubwa (Big Tree Camp) – Shira Start – 9,500’ End – 11,500’ Distance – 8kmI had read that day 2 was the hardest. I think they may be right. Our guides woke uswith a tub of warm water with which to wash. After dressing and packing our bags, weemerged from our tent and had tea, coffee and breakfast of eggs and porridge.The first 4 hours were not too bad. It was a gradual uphill. Pole-pole. No longer were wetrying to learn any Swahili. It was a drudge, but a doable one. Slowly the scenery beganto change. The trees thinned out and we moved to the tall brush Heath Ecological ZoneReady for Day 2 11

characterized by the mist and fog that clings and named after the heather plants and everlasting flowers like the Red-Hot Poker flower that brightens the landscape in splotches of red or yellow. Porters started running past us – yes, running. Calling to each other with their 20 kg’s on their heads. Every time I felt like it was getting a little difficult, I thought of them just running ahead of us carrying my sleeping bag. It is amazing how quickly 4 hours can go if you are solely focused on putting one foot in front of the other. Finally, we crested a hill and the mess tent and Magic Green Tent were up and waiting for us. We sat down gratefully and ate our lunch. As we were relaxing and feeling good for having conquered the hill, our guides pointed up to the trail for the rest of the day. “This is when it gets a little difficult”, he said. It was an absolute wall ahead of us. It seemed impossible that we could possible get to the top from where we were. I felt like an ant looking up at the Grand Canyon. THIS is where it gets difficult? We looked up and up and up and sure enough there was a figure of a porter making their way up the hill. Somewhere way above my head. Gulp. It seemed impossible. We started up. And I started throwing up. I ran behind a bush and lunch came straight out. It was only day two and I was already throwing up. Sat down on the dusty ground for a minute and opened my mouth to throw up again but instead just a sob escaped my lips. I broke down into a crumpled mess of tears and feeling defeat. Finally, I wiped away the tears and I looked down at the ground and saw the most beautiful and perfect dried flower. (Protea Kilimanjaro) It was so delicate and perfect that I started sobbing even more. After some time, I pulled myself together and rejoined the group who were waiting and ready to start again. Top: Through the Forest Bottom: The Path Up12

This became a pattern. I would run intothe bushes and throw up and then comeout to find the group waiting for me –rested and ready to go. After throwing up,I rarely felt ready to do anything, let alongcontinue on an impossible trek up the hill.But I did. Time and time again, threw upand then continued putting one foot infront of the other.Pole – pole. Pole – pole. Throw up. Sob.Start walking again… pole – pole.Finally we crested over the hill and lookedback. Pole – pole can actually be veryconfusing and disorienting as we lookedback over where we had climbed it seemedimplausible we had come so far.As we walked towards camp on the ShiraPlateau (after conquering the hill, we stillhad over a mile to go to get to camp) andour porters came back, singing, to grabour day packs and bring them to the campthey had carried on their heads, set up andhad hot tea and snacks waiting.This camp typically has some of the bestviews of the mountain. Unfortunately,when we arrived, the clouds coveredour view so we spent our time in ourlittle mess tent playing cards and tryingto stay warm. It was cold – really cold.The coldest I’ve ever felt (and it wouldget worse). This camp was much lesspopulated and was out in the open withnothing to trap in the noise and was rela-tively quiet. I was looking forward to mywarm sleeping bag and a good night’ssleep.It wasn’t to be. I woke up twice that nightand had to hurry my way through the Top: Finally at the Plateau; Middle: 13 Carin Rocks; Bottom: Camp

First Glance at the Topzipper ritual to get outside and throw up. The second time, I waited until everything settleddown again and then mercifully was able to get the last 4 hours of uninterrupted sleep forthe rest of the trip.In the morning, we started to take Diamox. We had avoided it because there were otherconsequences for Diamox that sound just about as horrible as throwing up – diarrhea forone, but given my condition, we weren’t going to make it without a little help.As we unzipped our tent and got ready to go, the clouds cleared and the top looked –obtainable. We could see the top and, given what we had gone through the day before, itdidn’t look so bad. We mentioned this to John and he said, “it is much farther and higherthan it looks.”Great.Onward. And, it appears, ever upward.14

Day 3: Shira 1 – Moir Hut Start –11,500’ End – 13,800’ Distance – 14kmAlthough the altitude difference this day is actually more than Day 2, it is mucheasier. For one, it is longer and therefore less steep and another, there is no down, justup. Day 2 had us going up and then down to only go back up again. Frustrating…The morning was a long walk through the plateau. We were tired from the day before, butit was mercifully flat and we were actually able to talk a little. I had thought that Ryan andI would spend time talking, reconnecting, figuring out the future together – with so manydays and no distractions of cell phones I thought that we would have copious amounts oftime to consider the meaning of life. In reality, we were so tired, so cold that all we couldthink about was putting one foot in front of the other and getting to the next stop or camp.The hardest part of Day 3 was the rescue road. On the other end of the plateau from camp,just before you start ascending to camp, there is a dusty dirt road. This is the highest placea car can drive up to rescue someone from the mountain. It’s the last chance to abort themission.And it is…so….tempting.All I had to do was sit down and let John know that I give up. This is where the marathon/Resting 15

triathlete I had met at the hotel on our way out had bailed. It would be so easy. In less than24 hours, I could be sitting on the beach in Zanzibar – warm, at sea level, and not throwingup every hour.I don’t think I’ve ever been so tempted before in my life. On the plateau, you can see theroad coming up for miles before you reach it and I entertained the thought for quite sometime. But I didn’t take that road. I went on, putting one foot in front of the other up the hill.Stubborn much?On the long walk up to camp we went back to not talking and not thinking of anythingmore than following the feet in front of me.It was around this time that I realized that I had a soundtrack in my brain. We had broughtmusic on our phones and solar rechargers, but I wanted to make absolutely sure we hadmusic for the summit day that we had been refraining from using them. That said, I stillheard music in my oxygen-deprived brain. It was Alanis Morissette’s Let’s Fall In Lovefrom the Cole Porter sound track. Super random, right?The music rolled on again and again and I kept pace –That’s why birds - stepdo it - stepbees - stepdo it - step…Whenever I came to a place where I would forget a lyric, the track would start from thebeginning again. Over the trip, I managed to piece together the entire song played on therepeat track in my head.Even to this day, I can’t listen to that song without a little lingering altitude sickness in mystomach. A Forced Smile? Our Camp - The Magic Green Tent, Mess Tent,16 Our Sleeping Tent and Peter and John’s Tent

Sunset Day 3When we reached camp, we were pleasantly surprised to see that there were only twoother groups. The camp was on a ledge with beautiful views, for the first time at the areaaround the mountain rather than the mountain itself. There was a dilapidated hut withmost walls missing that looked a lot like a hippy spaceship. I gathered all of the reserveenergy I had and walked up to sit on the steps of the hut and warmed my face in the sun.And I was happy.For the first time since starting the trek, I felt joy. Looking at the clouds, I had the sensationthat I was on top of the world. It was like looking through the window of an airplanewhere the whole world joins together into muted colors and shapes and everything seemsin harmony. I was cognizant of how very lucky I was to be there. Very few people have theopportunity to follow a crazy dream of standing on the top of Africa. In fact only 25,000people in the whole world make the attempt annually and only 66% actually get to see thesummit.I saw Ryan trudging up towards me and I suddenly realized that he too was going throughthis ordeal (yes, by this time I began to think of it as an ordeal) to follow a crazy womanup a mountain. Squinting in the sun to watch him approach, I remembered how verylucky I was to have him in my life. I sometimes look at my kids and hope that somedaythey too can find someone like Ryan who pushes them to be better people and loves themunconditionally – even when they lead you on an 8-day trudge up the side of a mountain.As he got closer, I could see that his face was set hard. As I started to feel better in theevenings, his headaches began. In a funny way, it worked out though. When we got tocamp, I’d help set out our sleeping bags and in the morning when I was feeling terrible,Ryan would pack them back up. Isn’t that how marriages work? You pick up and help eachother when the other is hurting. I hope we keep this element to our marriage forever.John bounded up past Ryan and offered to take us on an extra hike around camp to the 17

ridge. Looking at him like he was crazy, we respectfully declined.Instead, we went back to the tents and started what was becoming our evening ritual.Step 1: Put on every piece of clothing we have to try to brace against the coldStep 2: Go to the mess tent for a cup of hot Milo for Ryan and hot chocolate for me andmuch on the nightly offering of popcornStep 3: Play card games to keep our mind off how cold we are and to pass the time untildinnerStep 4: Eat dinner and (literally) crawl into bedAt night, we would take out our phones and read the book we had downloaded, TheMartian about man trapped on Mars, an uninhabitable and harsh landscape where hehad to battle the elements – the claustrophobia and similarities to our own situation weresometimes too much for me and I would just close my eyes and try to figure out the lastlyric to the song that had eluded me.That night, after my 2am vomit wakeup call, I looked up at the stunning moon taking upmore than its fair share of the sky and felt icy streaks on my cheeks. Tears. It was only day3 and I had felt tested and stretched in every way possible. We had so much further to go.I zipped myself back in the tent and curled up in a ball and wept. Ryan reached out of hissleeping bag and put an arm on me – a silent comfort and a huge sacrifice for him given thebitter cold. I fell into a deep exhausted sleep with the tears freezing on my cheeks. The Moon and a View18

Day 4 Day 4: Moir Hut – Barranca Camp Start –13,800’ Lava Tower – 16,000’ End – 13,000’ Distance – 7kmDay 4 is all about the acclimatization hike – up to the Lava Tower which is the same altitudeas Base Camp and then back down to camp. This is the day where we followed the classichiking advice – hike high and sleep low.I honestly have no memory of that morning’s walk. It was just a slow drudge Pole-Pole upyet another climb. The one thing I do remember is that the foliage was getting sparser andsparser and I had to start to run behind crops of rocks rather than bushes. By now, the sideeffects of the altitude medicine had started and I now had two reasons to run off the path atregular intervals. Fun.When we reached the Lava Tower, it was almost as if we had stepped on another planet.The mist swirled around a large walk standing eerily on a high plateau. Our porters, asusual, had run up past us and set up our magic green tent and mess tent for lunch.Amazingly enough: I felt fine. The lunch was little veggie pockets covered in carb-doughygoodness. I wanted to hang out there forever, but the porters were getting anxious andrushed us to move on.Bolstered by feeling so well and knowing that we didn’t have to climb anymore, I practicallyskipped out of the lunch spot. Well, maybe not exactly – I was reluctant to move again but I 19

was feeling much better than I had since the first night. I’d made it up to Base Camp height and I was ok! After our climb, safely back at the hotel, we met an Indian guy who actually climbed the big tower at the top. I was absolutely thrilled to make it to lunch and he had decided that wasn’t enough. He had to free climb as well – geesh! Although I wanted to rest and bask in our accomplishment, our porters were now anxious so we started on again. Later, when we got back to camp and saw the crowds, we understood that they were anxious to try to find the very best camp possible. The descent to camp was enjoyable. The path was beautiful with waterfalls and pineapple flowers (Lobelia-deckenii). It was more difficult than I thought to walk down. Although my lungs could take a break, my knees were anxious at every step and the going was a little slow. There were a few areas where we had to grab on to roots on the side of the path to help ourselves down the steep grade. As we entered camp, there was a high wall straight up on the side of the camp. John told us the path for tomorrow led straight up that wall – the Barranca Wall. Bring it on, I said, sure he was joking. He wasn’t. Wearily, with one eye towards tomorrow’s almost impossible task, we walked into the noisy and bustling camp. I was feeling better than I had in days. Last night’s tears and drama seemed worlds away as we settled in to play cards, drink our hot drinks and eat our nightly dose of popcorn. Leave the insane and seemingly non-scalable wall for tomorrow. Ryan, on the other hand, was done. The claustrophobia of being stuck on this mountain, in the cold and foreboding place just became too much. And it was his birthday. From Top: Lava Tower; Some may call him crazy. He has joined me all around the world On a Plateau; Sign Post; from the slums of Calcutta to the top of Kilimanjaro. I grew up20 Adult Pineapple Tree in a wonderful warm and loving family but Ryan has shown me time and time again unconditional love that defies all reason. I remember years ago when we had just moved to the States and were job hunting. I had a job offer, but it was bad and not what I hoped to do and I was torn as to whether take the job or hold out for something more. I was almost literally crawling the walls

with worry and stress. He said, “don’t worry Love, it will allwork out.”My answer: “Don’t worry?!?” My pitch rising as I went on.“That’s what people say when they don’t want you to worry!”And what does he do? He brings me into a big hug and holds meuntil I stop panicking.When our first child was born, I struggled to nurse. Alreadyterrified that people with medical degrees would allow meto take home such a small child (I mean I went through morestringent scrutiny to bring home a stray dog from the shelter!),my milk wasn’t coming in and I spent two days constantly cryingand wringing my hands as I paced our home. We had bothlearned and agreed that “Breast Milk is Best” and I felt like I wasfailing to give my best to my daughter – already. And she wasonly 3 days old!Ryan, knowing me so well, sat down next to me with a pad ofpaper and said, “Ok, let’s figure this out. What’s our plan? Let’swrite out our ideas on how we are going to make this work andwhat we are going to agree to if it doesn’t work.” I love that man.Back in the cold of our mess tent, Ryan was holding his mug andstaring off into space. I excused myself and rummaged throughmy pack until I found a small Tupperware container with twohostess cupcakes and a candle inside that I had hidden andsomehow managed to keep with the stringent weight limits onpacks. I knocked tentatively on the Magic Green Tent and askedif they could join us in celebrating Ryan’s birthday with us. Theywhooped and clapped and were thrilled to partake in festivities.Suddenly, the two small hostess cupcakes seemed far too smallfor everyone. I should have brought more.Luckily, it is tradition in Tanzanian culture for the guests tofeed the person celebrating their birth the cake. So, each tookturns slowly feeding Ryan cake and wishing him a long life. Iwas able to keep a bit back and sent it with Peter and John to beshared amongst them. Barely more than a bite each, at least itwas something.Ryan tolerated the event and then announced his departure to From Top: Dr. Seuss Land;bed. I could tell he was done and I could empathize with him Young Pineapple Tree;to be sure. Sweet memories of the rescue road swam in my Day 4; Ryan’s Birthday21consciousness as I drifted off to sleep that evening.

Day 5: Barranca Camp – Karanga Camp Start –13,000’ End – 13,100’ Distance – 5km The morning loomed as large and bright as the wall set before us. As we walked through the camp and to the base of the wall, John told us to just keep going up and keep going to the right. “Pole – Pole,” I thought, just keep going slowly and it will end. There is a terminal height to this wall and I just have to get through it. We started out heading up and up and up and up. Several times I thought the top must be just around the corner, but it just never seemed to come. So many times, I pulled through what I thought was my last effort to get to the top, only to look around the bend and see that there was still quite a bit more to scrambling to go. It was around one of those turns that we came upon the “kissing rock”. This is a ledge so precarious that you actually have to hug and kiss the rock to get around. Crazy, oxygen-deprived people like us take photos, but this photo just doesn’t do the drop justice. Luckily my fear of failure looms larger than my fear of heights. When we finally go to the top, we took a moment to rest in the sun. I wanted to tell the crew that they could just set up camp there. We were exhausted; it was beautiful, and most importantly warm. We sat for a while and warmed our faces in the sun, but eventually it was time to go. Bolstered by Top: Ready to Start; Barranca Wall; The Climb22

John’s claim of only another 2 hours or so to go we startedout again.The road was flat-ish and seemed to stretch on forever.Finally, we could see camp. My heart leapt and startedto rejoice. Another day down! We walked for anotherquarter of a mile and then we saw it. Yes. Camp was justa tantalizing close. Another ¼ of a mile later we saw it – ahuge valley between us and camp. We had to climb abouta thousand feet down to the river and then back up on theother side.I just about fell to my knees and cried. “No,” I said. Just“no.”We started down and I cursed every single step takingme in the wrong direction. Why didn’t they just build abridge? The water at the bottom is the water used for all ofthe camps above that height. That means, I marveled, thatsomeone was going to go all the way back down the hillfrom basecamp to get water for us for the rest of the trip.And I thought it was difficult just getting me up the hill withmy small day pack. Imagine what it must be like balancinga drum of water on my head.The best thing I can say about the rest of the day is that wemade it to camp and ate our food as quickly as possible sothat we could get some rest. Tomorrow – basecamp. Top: Resting on the Wall; Middle: Kissing Rock; Top Left: How much Further?; Top Middle: Finally on the Top; Bottom Left: Day 5; Bottom Middle: Sunset; Bottom Right: Bring it On! 23

Ready to Start Day 6 Day 6: Karanga Camp – Barafu (Basecamp) Start –13,100’ End – 15,300 Distance – 4kmDay 6 is advertised as almost a rest day. All of the work is done in the morning and wearrive at camp by lunchtime. What they don’t tell you is that it is still a 2,200 foot elevationgain that day.I woke up feeling ok. We had been at the 13,000’ level for a few days and I was starting toget used to that height. That reprieve was short-lasted, however.We started out and walked through a long plateau. In the middle, I felt the need to runbehind a crop of rocks and provide my vomitus offering to the mountain. I let Ryan andour guides know, but they told me that I couldn’t stop. Why, I don’t know to this day.Maybe they were just anxious to keep going and were tired of stopping for me. Whateverthe reason, I spent the next hour trudging along, holding back the barf and letting the tearsflow freely.We finally came to a ledge and John said that we could rest before continuing up the nowsteep incline to Basecamp. We could see camp from where we were and it seemed odd thatnow we could rest, but soon we learned how very big camp is. We hiked up to the firstcamps and then kept going up and up through boulders to get to where our tents were set.It felt like forever and each and every tent I saw I hoped and wished that it could be ours.24

Clouds Rolling In The PathFinally, we go to our camp and the official sign-in station. We took a break while we waitedfor lunch and watched the groups as the descended back into camp after their summit.They looked wrecked – shattered. Several people walked down with the help of porters oneither side of them. They all had vacant looks in their eyes – the walking dead.Not wanting to look at them, we quickly nipped into our mess tent and gratefully tookour lunch. I was so nervous that I couldn’t eat much. We retired to our tent to take somerest. The sun was shining and I was warm for the first time in a long time and Ryan andI actually were able to curl up together with only our sleeping bags – most nights we hadbeen so cold that we would huddle down in our respective sleeping bags with every otherarticle of clothing on top of us. Not terribly romantic. When the water INSIDE the tentwould freeze, we no longer even wasted energy or breath on talking.But that afternoon, the sun was shining and warming the tent. I took 3 plastic bags with meto the tent because I just wanted to rest and not enter and exit the tent to vomit. I must havebeen wonderful company in our little tent…but Ryan, always teaching me more and moreabout the depth of love, curled up with me and kissed my head as I bawled and finally fellasleep.At some point that afternoon, Ryan couldn’t sleep and went out and met up with the groupthat was at our guesthouse back in Arusha. They had done a 7-Day tour and about half ofPorters with an extra 20kg Camp 25

them had made it to the top. “I have good news,” Ryan announced as he woke me up for dinner. “There is an elevator to get to the top?” “Nope. There are three stages of altitude sickness. The first is that you feel like you are hung over. The second you really feel drunk and the third, you don’t want to know about.” “So….what’s the good news?” “Oh, and they said that it was the hardest thing they had ever done to get to the top.” Still waiting for the good news, I just eyed him and waited. “That’s it,” Ryan finished. At this point I was too tired to argue or point out that he still hadn’t provided any hope. I just quietly ate my dinner and hoped that it would stay in me and give me some suste- nance for the hike to come. We spent some time packing up and putting on all of our clothes, including the three pairs of clean socks. It took a while as I had to run out and throw up every so often. Finally we went to bed and waited for our wakeup call in the middle of the night to let us know that it was our time to launch our summit attempt. Eye on the Prize26

On Top of the World Day 7: Barafu (Basecamp) – Uhuru Peak – Mweka Hut Start –15,300’ Summit – 19,345’ Distance to Summit – 5km End – 10,000’ Distance from Summit to Camp – 10kmThe wakeup call came quickly – around midnight. I wasn’t even sure I’d slept, but I wasgroggy enough that I must have drifted off at least a little.The first 20 minutes of the day I spent in our little bathroom tent. Not a good start.I took a few steps away and then had to rush back to the tent. Several times.The camp was waking up around us and our guides were starting to get really concernedthat we needed to start heading, but I just couldn’t move very far nor very fast. We finallymounted our headlamps and started the journey.Not far from camp, my stomach was done. I left the line of lights and jumped behind a rockand everything else I had released from all sides. It was horrible. The sickest I think I haveever felt – and that’s saying something. I spent two years in the Peace Corps in Bangladeshand suffered many terrible stomach ailments. 27

As I was, um, taking care of my business behind a rock when a group of hikers decided to go around that very rock the other way and walked right up on me. My eyes shielded from their curious tiny spotlights, I wanted to die. Not just from feeling so bad, but now from pure embarrassment. It was a little like giving birth, where I found that all modesty had gone out the window by the time the baby actually came, but I was still acutely aware of the disgusted voices of the men who bounced past. But I kept going. About another 200 yards farther, I was retching and holding onto a rock for stability. My muscles gave out and I fell to the ground. I lay there for a while, not able to move or give up. But I had to. How could I not make it to the top? This was the big day – the day I had planned for. The day I’d talked to my friends and family about. My 40th birthday was dawning, and I was making it to the top of this god-forsaken mountain. Christy On Top of the World I trudged on. Walking for a while and then running to find a place to throw up. Fighting with myself but determined to continue.When we got to the top of the first hill, a Chinese man started walking backwards – takingphotos and trying to talk to us about how amazing it all is. I finally looked him in the eyeand said, “I’m sorry. Please leave me. I’m tired.” He looked hurt and I felt bad but I washappy to see him gallop up to the group in front of us and start chatting when them.We started the long zigzag up to the first peak. Looking above me, I could see the lightsof other climbers making their way to the top. I stopped looking and just concentrated onmy feet in front of me. It was too much to take in the whole journey, but I could count to 50steps and then stop to throw up and continue on again.I must have thrown up at least 40 times on my 40th birthday. What a way to celebrate! AndI asked for this – even paid and looked forward to doing this.I fell into step behind a shuffling woman. Following her pace, I could keep going for almost28

Day 7 Tea Break at Sunrise100 steps before needing to rest and throw up. The guides and Ryan, however, wouldn’t letme follow her because she was going so slowly. And they didn’t want to stop. They did,but it was so cold that stopping was a bad idea. The hose to our camel packs froze and wealready couldn’t feel our feet. And we weren’t even half-way yet.Did I mention it was cold? I don’t think “cold” actually is an adequate word. Let me put itthis way, it was so cold that I stopped to rest in a little rock cave and knew that continuingto move would only make me sicker. But it was so cold, that I couldn’t stay still and actuallywanted to keep moving. My gloves were graded for several degrees below freezing, but itwas so cold that I couldn’t move my fingers. Once again, our guides come to our rescue –John actually gave me his gloves to wear over my gloves. His own gloves! They openedhand warmers and put them inside the glove and the feeling to my fingers started to comeback. The guides really do absolutely everything they can to help you get up the mountain.We saw another guide with a woman who would take exactly three steps and then sit downand meditate. He would provide her oxygen from a tank and then she would take threemore steps.Finally, we came to the scree. Scree is a field of small pebbles that mean that every stepyou take forward slides at least half way back to where you started. Head down, I just keptmoving.Finally, our guides stopped and gave us some ginger tea to drink. It was the most amazingdrink I have ever tasted. We watched the sun come up and then looked up to see that wecould actually see Stella Point, the lower edge of the rim that surrounds the top of Kili-manjaro. We could also see how far we’d come up from camp and that was when I knewI’d make it. This was possible. At some point in the early walk, I was in such a bad statethat Ryan had pulled the guides aside and suggested that perhaps I should head back. Ioverheard him and used my precious breath to say, “Don’t even think of it…” and thatended the conversation. I had the determination to make it, but I wasn’t sure my bodywould cooperate. Only when the sun came up and we could see the first peak did I know 29

Stella Pointfor sure that I would be standing on top of the world. I was exhilarated and started offagain, but quickly learned that hurrying was not good for me and leaned over to retchagain.Ryan was behind me poking me and helping me up the hill, but once he saw the top, hecouldn’t handle it anymore. He ran on ahead and was waiting for me with open arms for abig hug when I crawled up over the last little ledge to the top.We had made it.I cried. Again. I’ve never cried so much as I did on this trip. These tears were different,they were tears of joy, of exhaustion and mostly tears of relief. Base Jumpers The Path Around the Rim30

Top: At Uhuru Peak Stella Point is not the top of the mountain, however.Bottom: Kids Toys Delivered It is appealing to consider it the top and at over 18,000’ it sure is tempting to call it a day and head back down. But, it is not the top. We stopped briefly for another cup of tea and then headed on the next 45 minutes to the true top. I was surprised to see how few people continued on around the rim to the top. I was relieved and still stumbling as we made it around the rim. The music we had saved until this day still continued. I had it on random but I couldn’t have selected better: I’m the Man - Aloe Blacc These Boots Were Made for Walking - Nancy Sinatra Waka Waka (This Time for Africa) - Shakira And, of course: On Top of the World - Imagine Dragons As we rounded the ridge, I was feeling pretty Bad Ass…and then we saw them - the base jumpers to whom the climb was just the first part of the journey. With their colorful canopy parachutes, they made several attempts but then managed to fly. Um, maybe next time. As I neared the peak, I could hardly breathe because I was so choked up. I had made it. It was a terrible, horrible, journey, but I had dug deep down and found it paid off. I’d like to say that I learned that I have gumption and focus, but I think that what propelled me through the experience was actually a special brand of stub- bornness and a clear and present fear of failure. The thought that came in my head on the toughest times wasn’t how amazing it would feel to 31

The Path Downaccomplish this – no, it was how could I possibly go home and tell people that I had failed.Could I ever hold my head high again? Clearly it wasn’t the carrot but the stick that kept megoing.That aside, what I really learned was how wonderful a partner I have in Ryan. He stuckby with me. Walked much slower than he needed and supported me physically andpsychologically throughout the whole time…even when he wanted to give up and we bothhad separate but similar dreams of the warmth of the sand and soul-quenching beer inZanzibar. I’ve always loved him and known that he loves me, but this experience catapultedus to another deeper understanding and adoration of each other through the best of timesand the worst of times. Through sickness and in health…On top of the world, we took the little toys the kids had given us to carry with us to thetop and placed them in the box provided. We took photos and basked in the sun. Petermentioned that he had never seen such good weather on the top of the mountain in all ofhis time climbing. But we couldn’t wait to enjoy it. We still had 8 more hours to get to camp– yes, eight more on top of the 9 that we had already taken to get to the top that day.We started the walk down. Interesting fact: if you felt sick on the way up – you are likely tofeel ill on the way down as well. I was still throwing up, but only about half the time that Idid on the way up – progress.32

Ryan skied down the skee and got down back to camp in record time. I continued alongbehind him but my legs were so shaky from exhaustion and lack of nutrients – oh, and fromthe effort of getting up the mountain, that I didn’t trust them to carry me. I walked muchslower down the hill. It took me so long to get down that the porters came up to help medown. I called John aside, remembering the people I saw yesterday helped by porters andlooking vacantly in the distance, and let him know that under no circumstances was anyonehelping me down the mountain. I’ll get there on my own steam, thank you very much. But ittook a long time.When I finally set foot back into camp, I sat down and refused to move for about a half anhour. I sat on a rock just soaked in the sun and the savoring the victory. But truthfully mybody simply refused to carry me any further. I looked up to see Ryan calling me to pleasecome back to camp. I mustered all remaining strength and walked the rest of the distance toour camp and fell gratefully into the chair in the mess tent.Once again, Ryan reminded me of his love. He had a little book that he had made that hadphotos and little notes of encouragement and congratulations from all of our friends andfamily. The book was titled, “Why we love you.” Even in my drained and exhausted state, Ifound that I still had some reserves to marvel in how lucky we are to have such good peoplearound us and how fortunate I am to have Ryan as my sidekick. I am truly blessed.I would have loved to stay and savor the moment, but, the team was once again anxious tomove on. We still had 5km to go to get to camp.We started down. New hikers just arriving at Basecamp looked at us curiously hoping toread the story of how to get to the top on our faces. I felt it better to say nothing. Somethinglike childbirth, they were already on the journey and there was no point in sharing gorydetails. They would have to experience it for themselves.As we walked down, I slowly recovered my ability to speak and breathe. About halfwaydown, we saw a stretcher sitting near a tree. We asked John what it was for and he said thatit is the “Mountain Ambulance”. That’s how they take people down who have such severealtitude sickness and getting down is the only way to get better.Stretcher Waiting for a Passenger John and Peter Demonstrating Use 33

A little later, we had the opportunity to see it in use. Oneof the porters from another team was careening past us.There were three men – one in the front and two in the backcarrying him down to safety. As we watched, they hit abump and the man in the stretcher came bouncing off thecart and hit the ground. Ryan and I watched in amazementas they picked him up quickly, tied him down, and starteddown again. Wondering which is more dangerous: altitudesickness or a ride on the stretcher, we followed them andwitnessed in amazement how they lowered him down a 4foot boulder and then continued running. They were muchfaster than us.It started to rain and then to snow as we entered High Campand took a rest under a little structure. We took refuge nextto a group of Scandinavian men who started looking at meand pointing and murmuring to each other. They musthave been the group that caught me behind the rock at thebeginning of the ascent that morning – it seemed like yearsago. My face got hot with shame and embarrassment and,as soon as the weather let up a little, we quickly continuedon our way.You drop over 9,000’ in only 10km and it is steep. I walkedtenderly, not trusting my exhausted legs to hold me and atransgender porter came next to me and said, “the problemwith you is that you are too slow.” She was right, when I Top: Beautiful Trees Middle: The Final Path Bottom Left: John - Without whom we would never have been able to make the journey34

Day 8 The Whole Team Day 8: Mweka Hut – Mweka Gate Start –10,000’ End – 5,400’ Distance – 10km In the morning, we were greeted as we were every morning, with a bowl of hot water and a cup of tea. Having no more clean clothes, or even remotely clean clothes, it seemed a little silly to wash, but I had the first restful sleep in a week and it felt good to wash off the fear and grime from the past week. Funnily enough, the porters no longer held an odor – or perhaps our own stench was so great that we couldn’t smell anything else. After breakfast, there is the final ceremony where we gave the tips to the guides to distribute to the crew. We were so grateful for all they had done that we gave everything we had. We also gave them all of the items that we didn’t use: first aid kits, extra granola bars, etc. The final ceremony was fun – full of songs and laughter. The songs are in Swahili and were all about the details of the trip. We didn’t understand a lot of it, but words used often 35

Reentrywere ones I had learned – slow, toilet and smelly. By that time, I was feeling well enoughand back to my usual self and could laugh.That morning’s walk was long, but we finally did have time to talk and reflect. Being somuch in the moment for a whole week, our conversation quieted into a happy and satisfiedsilence. Worries about jobs and career ambitions seemed worlds away and somehow petty.If we learned anything, we learned that together we can push through adversity and diffi-culties. The journey wasn’t perfect but Ryan and I got there together and together we nowfeel like we can conquer anything.Pole-pole. Mweka Gate Exit Sign36

The EndWell Deserved Rest and Refreshment 37

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