Kilimanjaro Day 7 – Summit to Mweka Camp

Kilimanjaro Day 7
Stella Point Summit (18,885′) to Mweka Camp (10,065′)
Zone: Arctic to Rain Forest
Quoted Distance: 12km/7 miles
Guide Service: Everlasting Tanzania

So apparently it’s true, what goes up must come down. We’ve just completed the toughest physical accomplishment of any of our lives, and it’s not over yet. After about 15 minutes of tears, awe, pictures, and hugs it was time to get moving again. Sick with bronchitis, Katie and I both knew that Stella Point is our summit and we do not have it in us to climb the extra 600ft over/450 ft up to Uhuru Peak. But Kyra is not sick and that girl has grit so I knew in my heart that she would make the final push. Due to how rapidly conditions can change at any moment, there isn’t a ton of time to linger. With only one guide, Chaz, left with us it was decided that Chaz would make the final push to Uhuru with Kyra while Kasimu and GodBless led Katie and I back down to Basecamp at Barafu Camp. Katie, Kyra, and I embraced each other with overwhelming emotion and more tears flowed as we were all still so overwhelmed with what we had accomplished and Kyra hated that we wouldn’t be making the Uhuru push with her. We all hated it. With tears freezing onto our faces we peeled ourselves apart and painfully turned in our respective directions, our family of four now further fragmented.

Descending from summit is a whole new challenge in itself. Whereas the path to ascent was compacted and rocky, the descent is sandy and full of scree; a calf and knee nightmare. Kasimu and GodBless led us as we slid down the mountainside, trying not to twist, turn, or break an ankle in the loose terrain. Katie was on overdrive, slipping and sliding, practically skiing, down the mountain as she declared that she just wanted to get back to Basecamp and see Shane. I spent much of the stumbling ascent contemplating her motivation to descend how beautiful it is that, after our harrowing ascent, her sole focus on the ascent was to make it back to her man.

My lack of depth perception was of course an added challenge as I relied on my trekking poles to help me maintain my footing and balance; and my lungs were completely shot. There was hardly any talking and I couldn’t even muster the energy to snap any pictures. My GoPro was attached to my pack on Kasimu and occasionally I remembered to turn it on for the sake of some footage. About 90 minutes or so into our descent we stopped for a break and I checked my Garmin; I had a satellite message from Kyra that she had reached Uhuru! I sent her our congrats and sent Shane a satellite message updating him on all of our progress. I was so happy for Kyra while also being further disappointed in myself for not having made that final push.

Descending was long and brutal with my calves on fire. After a couple more hours, a group of our porters arrived and met us to relieve Kasimu and GodBless; taking our packs and theirs from them. They laid down and rested, quiet with exhaustion. We were all quiet, none of us could barely muster a word, but we were descending safely.

As we crossed through Kosovo Camp groups of trekkers were just arriving; tonight would be their summit attempts. They all seemed so much younger than us and I could feel their eyes taking us in. As we passed one group a lady turned to her guide and asked, “Are those the ones coming down from Summit?” “The ones,” like we’re wild animals.

Getting into lower elevation we were feeling more alert and actually beginning to have some minor conversation. Bouldering down the edge of Kosovo Camp I was shocked to hear yelling from behind us, “Laura! Katie! Laura! Katie!” We turned and a few yards back Kyra and Chaz had caught up!!! Kyra was covered in dust with a rip in her jacket, having fallen multiple times as Chaz rushed her on their descent. We were back together! Now all we needed was to get back to Barafu with Shane.

The final descent from Kosovo Camp back to Basecamp felt like it took forever, I don’t remember it being this long on the climb up but it dragged on and on and on. Finally, at 1:45pm, 15 hours after we left for our summit push, we saw the Barafu Camp sign. Katie, Kyra, and I took our obligatory picture but it felt weird not having Shane with us.

It was another 20 minutes from the sign back to our site at the lower part of camp and my body was spent, like completely spent. Between my shoulder pain, the sciatic pain that snuck up during ascent last night, the brutal descent on my joints, the bronchitis, and the absolute exhaustion I had zero gas left in my tank. As our camp came into view so did Shane and Saidi; Katie burst forward and threw herself into Shane’s arms. Kyra and I looked at each other, how incredible to see a love like theirs in this moment.

Kyra and I collapsed into camp chairs and Katie immediately went into her tent to lie down. Saidi and Shane joined us to discuss our plan now. It was already 2pm. Since our summit had taken so long and we were so exhausted we had a choice to make. We could trek from here to Millennium Camp and stop there for the night or we could continue all the way to Mweka Camp as planned. We just climbed up and back down 4,000’ to summit and Mweka Camp is another 5,000’ down, and about 3 hours past Millennium Camp. The ideal and original plan is to make it to Mweka Camp so we are back at low elevation, only about 10,000’ so our bodies can better recover. I didn’t know how I was going to take another step period but I knew that Katie was worse off than I was so I suggested that we see how she feels.

While we cleaned up and prepared for lunch, Shane reported that Katie wants to try to make it to Mweka Camp, she just wants to get as far as we can. Ugh. But how could I complain; for crying out loud, Kasimu just summited with us and here he was still working with Essau to get us fed; these men are unbelievable in their abilities.

After lunch we had an hour to “rest” but really no time to rest because we had to pack up and get everything ready to continue on. I struggled to fill my air with lungs, moving like a zombie as I organized and packed my gear. At 4pm, it was time to get back to trekking, we have another 5,000’ to climb down. My eyes filled with tears of exhaustion and desperation as I stumbled up beside Shane, “I don’t know how I’m going to do this. I have nothing left in me. I don’t know how this is possible.” He squeezed my shoulders and gave me an encouraging, “You got this!” Blearily, I put one foot in front of the other as I tried to pull myself together. As we walked by the helicopter rescue pad on the edge of camp my ears plugged. WTF?! I just climbed 4,000’ up and down with no ear issue and NOW they plug? I turned myself into team DJ again and put my music on to try to get myself motivated. As “(I Can’t Help) Falling in Love with You” came on, Saidi saddled up beside me, “UB40 right? I love them, one of my favorites!”

The descent was relatively gradual with rescue wagons stacked up on the side of the trail en masse in some places and individually abandoned in others. It takes six porters to safely wheel one rescue wagon off the mountain. As a group we took solace in the fact that at least we were all walking on our own two feet. As sick as I am, even my ego couldn’t handle the thought of having to be wheeled down.

My Kili crew started chatting as we hiked but I felt so terrible I couldn’t even fathom trying to carry on a conversation. With my plugged ears, listening to music combined with the voices was feeling like torture so I retired my DJ services, concentrating on simply putting one foot in front of the other. It was a trip to look back and see the summit that we had just reached seemingly so far away again.

Passing through Millennium Camp I expected to feel bitter that we had to keep going and weren’t stopping there but with my level of exhaustion I couldn’t even muster up the bitterness. Plus it was a pretty ugly camp. Saidi pointed out the burnt trees and reminded us that this is the camp where the fire started last year. Walking through Millennium Camp our gradual dirt trail turned into a miserable man-made path or rocks cobbled together with steps every couple feet instead of a gradual descent.

This sucks, this really sucks. Slipping and sliding to hike down a steep trail is even is better than the uneven footing from the stonework and having to take actual steps down. I just needed to get past the camp and then it would get back to the regular wild trail. But alas, that was not the case. I told myself that surely at some point this vulgar man-made hell path would end, it couldn’t be this way the entire, what is it 3 hours, from Millennium to Mweka Camp!

As the sun sunk lower and dusk teased the coming of night, the man-made path continued. With brush on either side there was no way around it. We took very few breaks and kept on trucking, now with our head lamps illuminating our path. As the sky grew dark the trail grew creepier and creepier. Spiders dropped from trees around us, swinging on their silks. Thanks to my lack of depth perception, the uneven steps grew into greater obstacles lit only by our headlamps and with each step it was a struggle to make sure I didn’t fall; my body had nothing left it in and my balance was no longer an ally.

Looking up from my feet I realized that I was alone on the winding trail. Katie, Shane, and Saidi had stopped at some point and were somewhere a ways behind me. Kyra and Chaz were giggling in their own little world somewhere far ahead of me. I was pissed. It’s pitch black out, each step is already a struggle with my depth perception issues and I’ve stumbled more than once so falling could happen at any time, I’m so so sick, and I’m making my way across the uneven terrain by myself now. I yelled out to Chaz, “It’d be nice if I could see my guide in the dark!” Kyra yelled back with some smart ass response about how there’s only one way to go, implying it’s no big deal. And I got really pissed. “Whatever! Thanks for giving a shit that I’m trying to maneuver weak and unable to see what the hell I’m doing with my depth perception.” I was super pissed. Chaz seemingly caught on that perhaps a guide should know where the hell his trekkers are and waited but I was so angry at their lack of caring in that moment that I didn’t even want to interact when I caught up to them.

Finally arriving at Mweka Camp around 9pm we didn’t even bother to stop for a picture of the camp sign. It was too dark and personally I was too exhausted and cranky to care. Crawling into my tent to finally take my boots off and change into camp clothes felt so good.

Over our last dinner on the mountain Saidi shared the list of all our porters and support crew with us so we could make sure we had our tip envelopes properly labeled and allocate more to certain team members. We also talked amongst ourselves about what gear we had to donate to the porters tomorrow and a plan for gathering it together in the morning.

After dinner, Kyra pulled out the bottle of gin she’d bought at the start and shared it with everyone. Being on antibiotics now I did not partake; my focus is on getting healthy again. But it was fun to see our cook Steven and some of our porters popping their heads into the dining tent to get a nip.

I am miserable, I am sick, I am exhausted, I am disappointed in myself for coming so far and not making the extra push to the highest point of the summit. I am so glad this 22 hour hiking day has come to an end. Mentally I was not prepared for what it would be like to come down 9,000’ immediately after reaching summit. My ears are so plugged but at least we are at lower elevation now so I can take all the cold meds I can find in my bag and try to find some relief from the plugged ears, tight lungs, and congestion.