Day 6

Day 6 - Trek Day 4
Mawenzi Tarn to Kibo Huts - 14,200 ft - 15,420 ft

Cold cold morning. It had been -8 overnight
Breakfast in the sun today. The smell of the mess tent was starting to get to me.

Apparently intolerance is another sign that the altitude is affecting you.
I could definitely feel myself getting annoyed at petty things.
I was finding myself uncharacteristically grumpy, which Peter my tent mate would no doubt agree with. It's not a nice feeling. A bit like when I drink too much coffee.
If I'm honest, I think it was more the lack of sleep than the altitude that was affecting my mood.
If you're thinking of climbing Kilimanjaro, be prepared for sleep depravation.
The thin air prevents you sleeping easily. Throw in sub-zero temperatures, a sleeping bag that's not a double bed and normally on an incline, and the constant noise of 80 or so people, baffled only by a wafer thin sheet of plasticised canvas, and you get some insight into your sleeping conditions.
My best advice, get some decent ear plugs that really work (test them first), get a silk liner for your sleeping bag (the sleeping bag should be the warmest you can afford), a really good full sized Thermarest, and then probably take some Night Nurse.

After a bit of food, (my appetite was also definitely going), we got ready to set off.
We also learned that Alison got her bag back, minus the money sadly, but she had her things. We also found out that Jackie had become quite ill overnight due to AMS, and under doctors orders would have to descend.
The reality of altitude's random brutality really hit home having lost our first team member.
This was made all the more sad by the fact that today was Jackie's partner Paul's 50th birthday.
We set off the way we'd arrived, but this time the sun was out making the whole place much prettier.
Quite soon we were scrambling over steep and rocky terrain, stopping for a break with the most stunning views of Kibo beyond

From here we went mostly downhill which was a very welcome change.
We could see the Saddle beyond and in the far far distance, Kibo Huts, our final camp before summit.
The walk to the Saddle was quite enjoyable. I had been really looking forward to it. Spirits seemed high, and we stopped for a great group photo.

The Saddle is an incredible part of Kili. It's an alpine desert that has a fairly gentle ascent, but it's long and the landscape seems to go on for ever.
As per usual, the clouds descended and the temperature plummeted.
Walking in cloud across the Saddle feels like you're on the moon.
It's a barren featureless landscape of dust and small rocks, and at 16,000 ft plus it feels like there's no oxygen either.
It was an exhausting walk, with rest stops never coming soon enough.
There was a noticeable difference in mood amongst the team after a while. The walking was endless. I found it really hard going, as did a number of others.
At our last rest stop, I made the mistake of blowing my nose to try to alleviate the dust congestion and help me breathe, but instantly, like a tap, blood started gushing from my nose.
High altitude nose bleeds are quite common, and not ideal.
With tissues quickly shoved up to try to stop it, Dr Jenny came over.
She suggested we ask around for a tampon, as this would be far more absorbent than tissue.
I have a feeling the cameras came out before the tampons, but sure enough, Allyson came to the rescue, and Team Tampon was born.

So apart from the indignity of walking with a tampon sticking out of my nose (which to be honest I got over very quickly because I just wanted it to stop) I had to deal with the issue of even more restricted breathing.
The final hour to Kibo was utterly impossible.
My chest was aching now due to the constant deep breaths I was taking. You literally breathe as though you're running, even though you are walking at a snails pace.
Next time you're out walking, try holding your breath for half a dozen paces. That is pretty much how you feel all day when walking at high altitude.
After what felt like an eternity, Kibo Huts come into view. Except to get to them, you have to walk the final few hundred yards up an incline.
The incline itself couldn't have risen more than 20' but it was beyond difficult.
It's really hard to explain how hard simple activity becomes at extreme altitude, but climbing it was exhausting.

The gateway to purgatory....

At camp, we found a tent, and rested.

We then went for lunch in the mess tent.

By the light of our head torches, because it was always dark in the mess tent, David read out messages to the team that he'd collected before he left.

They say that altitude makes you more emotional, and I can confirm that it does. It's just so easy to become tearful, but the letters of encouragement from families back home was too much to endure for most of us. Even thinking back to that time now is an emotional experience.

I guess up until then, we'd been so focused by the immense task in front of us, that actual contact with families and loved ones at home had left us all feeling somewhat isolated.

Sitting in a tent in the dark at 16,000 feet suddenly felt like such a long long way from home.

After lunch we went back to our tents to rest.

I sensed all was not well with my tent mate Peter, and I asked Jenny to check him over.
My fears were confirmed some time later, when they called me in to say that he would have to descend for his own safety.
That was probably the low point of the trip for me, as I know it most definitely was for poor Pete.
He was the one that got us all together. Our Ernest Shackleton.
It was almost inconceivable that I'd be setting off for summit without him. It was so unfair and extremely upsetting.
At the last moment, I couldn't even actually speak to him for fear of breaking down. I just grabbed his hand, squeezed it and nodded and left the tent, gutted, and tearful.
Almost everything at this point becomes emotionally charged. It's really odd and unexpected. But even now I can become teary-eyed remembering that moment. It sounds over dramatic, but the mountain is incredibly powerful.

Dinner was at 5, with a summit night briefing from Geordie.
I couldn't eat at all. No appetite, no energy, but I knew I needed to eat something. Amazingly, the cooks had baked Paul a cake for his birthday. What an effort. Sadly, I had no appetite to even try any, which if you know me, is highly unusual.

I went back to an empty tent.
It was so quiet, and awful.
I got dressed in all my summit night clothes; Thermal leggings, thermal over trousers, thermal top, t-shirt, micro fleece, down jacket, outer jacket, silk glove liners, gloves, mittens, 3 pairs of socks and a hat, and got into my sleeping bag..  Brutal cold.
I put on my iPod and shut my eyes, trying to think peaceful thoughts as Geordie had recommended.
I think I dozed off, but looked at my watch at 10:30pm and decided to get up and get ready.
As per instructions, my bag was packed and sleeping bag left out in case I had to return during the night.
I went to the mess tent and had a hot drink and some biscuits, and drunk as much as I could.
Before I knew it, midnight was upon us and we were off, into the freezing cold darkness, "poli poli", with only the light of our head torches illuminating the frozen scree beyond....