Kilimanjaro - the Beast lashes out, our journey to the summit
After
a quiet meal, Thomas told us to be prepared by 21h00 and to meet back in the
tent. We were scheduled to leave at
22h00 and a morning summit with us watching the sun rising as we stood on the
summit was anticipated.
We all hurried
back to our tents (in reality we dragged ourselves back to our tents gasping
for air). Celeste and I quickly had a
“wet wipe” bath and bathed ourselves in cream.
A little tip for the ladies, I had taken thick cocoa-butter cream in a
tub with me. Every evening before rolling
into the sleeping bag and after the wet wipe bath, I would plaster as much of
my body parts with this cream that the cold night air would allow, this not
only made you feel as though you had had a bath and made you smell better, but
it also gave you a false sense of security that you were clean. This along with the wet wipes will go along
on all the mountains. We dressed in our summit clothing, which was 5 layers of
clothing, the first being our thermals, which my hero husband Nigel had bought for
Khabo, Rachel and myself on the morning we left. I put on three layers of socks, and three
layers of gloves. I had a thermal beanie
that Celeste had bought each of the girls,
as well as a scarf. My backpack was now packed and I felt unsure if I
had packed it correctly, but did not know of any other better way to rearrange
it or repack it. I was tired and just wanted to rest and get the summit over
and done with. I was missing my husband and kids back home and was not sure why
I had started this crazy summit thing. We had
been in the papers and the local radio station had mentioned us and aired our
interview several times a day during the news bulletins. Why had we put this
pressure on ourselves, and why had I put this pressure on myself. We had to summit - it was really as simple as
that. Seven people had come along with
me to fulfill a dream that I had started five years prior. In that moment of
exhaustion I was doubting myself and wished I had not started anything like
this. What was I thinking. The alarm
sounded at 21h00 and Celeste and I silently cursed and staggered out of our tents
to meet the rest of the gang in the mess tent.
Everyone except Clinton who had overslept and not packed his backpack
was in the tent. We waited until almost
23h00 for Clinton to finally tumble into the tent. He was white, wheezing and sweating like
a pig. We all managed to calm him down,
all forgetting our own fears momentarily as our focused thankfully shifted to
Clinton. We all had our Milo ("Meeelo") and
biscuits and finally at 23h00 we were ready. All half blinded due to all of us
having our headlamps on bright in the
tent and so wrapped up in fear of the unknown that we did not notice the
blinding effect we were having on each other, not that we cared or protested at
that point. We were 'in the zone”!
This
did not last, and from nowhere and with suddenness the mountain beast was
unleashed and she did not spare us nor was she about to show us any mercy. She
wanted our souls and was not going to give up until she did.
Khabo
was now ill, with toxic shock and was snowblind. I had noticed when we stopped
for water she would be sweating while the rest of us were shivering. She was
getting slower and slower and starting to hold up the rest of the group. We soldiered on only to be separated during a
very tricky steep and rocky pathway by some arrogant Americans that pushed in between
us, they had their porters and guides with them carrying their backpacks. I was
sure they would summit as they marched on ahead of us looking like Olympic
athletes, the bodies silhouetted against the stark moon like terrain minus
their backpacks. I though “bladdy cheats” as I felt the heaviness of my own
back pack. We later found out they
turned back and never summited.
Paul had my extra water and Frank who had fallen several times and hit his head, came back down to help Thomas, Khabo, Rachel and myself. During the 10 minutes or so of madness our group got separated. Celeste wanted to wait for us and Paul said no they must move on or they will die. Celeste, Roy, Clinton, Greg and Sean continued with Paul, their spirits somewhat damped not knowing the whole time until we meet later what had become of us. Celeste became emotional and was encouraged by the rest to carry on. Their focus became on making sure they would put the Team flag on the summit on our behalf. So with heavy hearts and feeling very despondent they carried on, while a life and death struggle on the mountain prevailed.
I
was not feeling very well. Khabo had slowed down to a snails pace. She would
take longer to rest than she actually spent walking. I would wait for her
either unceremoniously hanging over my trekking poles like a dead deer, or sit
on a piece of cold rock. Rachel at this
point looked like she would be the only one to make it. She seemed as fresh as
a daisy. Khabo and I had wilted. I
started to shiver and I said to Khabo that we need to go back. Khabo, bless
her, nearly blew me up with a death gaze (she of course could not see me
clearly so stared right passed me – but there was no mistaken the intensity of
the glare that was meant to melt me on the spot!) - a look of complete defiance
– a look I had come to both love and respect.
“Kim you will have to take me back in a body bag before we go back. I
will summit. I will carry on. Did you hear me Shosholoza?” this was screamed at
me so I could hear it above the blizzard.
I had made the decision to let Rachel go on and place the flag on the
summit and I would take Khabo back down. After
that little tantrum I turned to Thomas, who was not looking too good himself. We
were actually all in trouble, Frank had recovered from his nasty fall and
Rachel looked like she was just starting a Sunday stroll. I asked Thomas what
he thought and he simply told us two things, one he made a promise to take us to
the top, especially because of what our goal was and two that the blizzard was
so bad that we needed to continue to climb up and try to get above it. We may
not make it back down alive and felt we have a better chance to carry on. That was sobering. Shortly after this not
sure quiet when this occurred, due to me not having much of a brain left, I
remember collapsing on a rock and I could not get warm. I continued to shiver uncontrollably. Rachel stood and stared and hung on her trekking poles, feeling
completely helpless. I was the medical help and now I was the one in
trouble.
Khabo was sitting down just
staring ahead, in a daze. Frank sat on
my right and started to rub my body with his hands to try and warm me and kept on talking to me. Thomas took a spare jacket from his backpack
and put it on me. He then started to rub my legs to try and get the circulation
going. I am not sure how long we sat
helpless on that mountain. I do remember thinking of my family, my husband, my
children, the promises made to people. I
remember thinking that my dream of the 7 summits was over, five years of
planning, dreaming and how my family had suffered, all for nothing. I was going
to die, I was going home in a bodybag. And you know what that was ok. I was at peace. I did not feel much at that
moment except I did feel sorry for my kids especially my youngest Jordan, who
was 10 at the time, that he will be growing up without a mother. I prayed that
his sister (who was 22 years old at the time) would fill in for me. I remember
starting to fall asleep and knew that I was more than likely going home in a
bodybag. The scariest thing was that I was ok with it. I remember thinking
that my husband and kids were no longer going to have a wife and mother and
that it was sad. I remember seeing
little white rabbits darting around my face and in front of me. (probably the
sleet and ice from the blizzard). I
was sitting down on a rock, and I could not stop the shivering, it started in
my toes then suddenly it has taken hold of my entire body. I could no longer
control the jerking. Thomas and Frank had now wrapped their bodies around me
and tried to keep me warm. I had
hypothermia and my core temperature started to drop. I was starting to fall
asleep, and it felt ok. Somewhere during this Thomas's voice hit my inner
core. “Kim” he said “ you will be dead
in less than 10 minutes, then we all die. We
all need to keep moving, helps us please”. That was all that was needed to defrost my
frozen brain. I was responsible for
everyone here. All five of us. I have to save myself and keep everyone from dying with me. What Thomas told me had shook what ever
chains the mountain demons had used to hold me down. I felt the angels lift
each one of us far beyond what was humanly possible. We needed divine
intervention and God delivered on that lonely rock face, in the middle of
nowhere.
Thomas, Frank and Paul, Khabo, Celeste, Sean and Clinton were all Catholics and would join us for grace in the mess tent. Thomas would pray for our safety and our
success. We spoke a lot about our faith and our families on the mountain. I had given all the girls a medallion depicting our lady, Mary Mother of Jesus. Roy's daughter had given each of us a St Christopher. We pulled ourselves up
and started to pray in between gasping for life and as the mountain fought to
claim us so we fought back in body and spirit. The angels were with us and they
had not come to take us home, but were guiding us through the beast, up higher
to safety. We could see the angels lighting up the way and God's warmth
surrounding us.
As we fought to stay alive, so the beast came. The Angel fought back and the blizzard engulfed us and we were now faced with a life or death situation. We were exposed on the rock face for nearly 4 hours. I remember our two guides, frank and Thomas falling, trying hard themselves to keep upright, to help us keep moving. Thomas kept yelling at us to keep going. It will be sunrise soon and we will be able to get warm and have visibility. This seemed impossible, but we trusted Thomas and trusted that God was guiding him through this.
Thomas
who had summited more than 1000 times and had featured in the October 2009
Getaway magazine, told us afterwards that that was the worst weather and coldest
he had ever encountered on the mountain in his 30 odd years of climbing. The temperatures had plummeted to -30 degrees
C. Our gauges had not taken wind chill
into account. The summit attempt was supposed to
take 6 hours. It took us 19 hours to summit.
I remember waiting on the rock face watching the sun come up. As the sun
lit up the rock face we could suddenly see each other. All five of us were covered from head to toe
in ice. We just stood their, resting our
broken bodies on our walking poles and watched the ice drip off our clothing
and bodies, helpless. Your brain at this stage ceases to exist and function normally. You are in a different realm,
different spiritual dimension. You know you must be on the mountain, that you
have just gone through death and come back, you know all this only because you
feel the pain your broken body is in. You feel your lungs exploding with each
breath, yet you are looking down at the world, looking down at yourself
standing there, not sure how you're managing to stand up as you watch your
trekking poles that you are leaning on gentling swinging to and fro. The blizzard was over we crumbled into a heap
and rested. This was the sunset that we were supposed to watch from the summit
according to the brochure. Summit time had long come and gone. Time for the
past 9 hours had stood still. The clocks had simply stopped.
I
asked Frank how long till we reach the summit his reply was always the same, as
I like child on a long trip, would ask, are we there yet. Frank would smile his
broad smile, showing perfect white teeth and tell me “Keeeem open your mind, be
freeeee, only 1 more hour” He said that
for almost the entire 13 hours it took to summit. I desperately needed to believe him, so I
simply did. I needed all the courage I could get.
Hours
later Rachel and I waited for nearly two hours with Frank our guide for Khabo
to catch up with us, just below Stella point, that was the first time I cried,
as I watched Khabo walking towards us, one painful step at a time. Rachel and I
had watched in silence as many climbers came passed us and started their steep
ascent to the crater rim. Many slipped
and would slide down. It was demoralizing and we forced ourselves to look elsewhere
and gazed down the mountain waiting for a sighting of Thomas and Khabo.
The
ground was loose volcanic ash and 100m 45 degree angle took more than 2 hours
to reach the rim at Stella point. It was now a very lonely and personal battle.
Every single step was a monumental effort. You would claw your way up 3 steps,
then slide down. It seem to take hours and never seemed to want to end. We were covered in grey dust and looked like
young boys awaiting initiation in adulthood.
In my head all I could remember was Robbi Kojetin voice telling me to
focus on a rock, then crawl towards it. Once you make it reward yourself and
sit on it, catch your breath and choose the next one. That was how I made it up to Stella point.
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