On Aug. 12, 2024, I summited Mount Kilimanjaro, Africa’s highest mountain and the tallest free-standing mountain in the world, with an elevation of 19,341 feet.
People have asked, “What made you want to go climb a mountain in Africa?”
The reason behind climbing Kilimanjaro began with a series of travels in 2023. That February, I broke off an engagement just three months prior to the wedding date. To say that I had no direction in my life would have been an understatement. In May, I took a trip to Ireland that was supposed to be my honeymoon. I left with a plan to spend three months traveling Europe to “find myself.” I made it three days before deciding to come home after experiencing an attempted mugging.
In July, that same year, I made a spontaneous trip to New Mexico to see a friend. Upon arrival, I did what I have done in the past, I searched the Internet for the tallest nearby mountain. Wheeler Peak was that mountain. I summited Wheeler Peak, elevation 13,166 feet, on July 5, 2023.
I found that climb to be satisfying to my soul, opening my spirit through adversity – an opportunity to have a more intimate and honest conversation with God. On that day, I made a vow to myself that I would summit a big mountain, every year, until I die. When I arrived home, I started researching my next mountain. And that is what led me to Kilimanjaro.
The climb
However majestic, the Appalachian Mountains where I live could not prepare me for climbing Kilimanjaro, with an elevation almost three times greater than Mount Mitchell, which is the highest peak in the Appalachian Mountains. Kilimanjaro was out of my scope of mountaineering knowledge, so I booked a guided climb with Elite Exped, an international mountain guide company led by a world-record mountaineer Mingma Tenzi Sherpa and “14 Peaks” Netflix documentary star, Nirmal Purja, with the help of local Tanzanian guides.
I arrived at Kilimanjaro International airport Aug. 5 and took a cab to Aishi Machame hotel in Moshi, Tanzania. The next day, I met all 19 of my fellow climbers, who were from many corners of the world: Great Britain, Colombia, Nepal, New Zealand, Sweden, Norway, United States, and Papua New Guinea. We all arrived with the same goals: to escape the modern world, climb the tallest mountain in Africa, and discover something new about the world around us and ourselves.
No animosity existed amongst individuals with different political views and moral stances, yet we were all able to discuss controversial topics with great civility. Whilst climbing and trekking Kilimanjaro, we did not see in ourselves or others status, titles, or stereotypes. Trust was shared, vulnerability was offered, mutual hope emanated, and honesty was a common practice among us.
On Aug. 7, we departed for Mount Kilimanjaro National Park. We spent the ensuing five days trekking roughly 40 miles of Alpine desert terrain. We spent most of our days above a sea of clouds and most of our nights gazing upon the awe-inspiring Milky Way.
Upon arrival to our first camp, “Shira 1,” we met all 90 local Tanzanian crew members. The crew was composed of porters, chefs, and medically certified guides. The crew of mostly porters packed, carried, and set up camp between each stop. The chefs prepared three hot and delicious meals a day, even providing one climber with a cake on his birthday! The guides led our group in trekking, acclimation hikes, and also conducting medical evaluations twice a day for climbers.
Before attempting to summit a mountain with an altitude such as Kilimanjaro’s, one must climb high and sleep low. This mountaineering technique is a common acclimation tool that helps prevent altitude sickness. We spent most nights and days at an average elevation of 13,500 feet, while climbing to 15,200 feet twice before summiting.
Altitude sickness presents itself with different symptoms, various levels of severity, and without exception of age, gender, or fitness level. Prior to summit day, we saw the result of severe altitude sickness, as we watched a climber from another group carried off the mountain by stretcher and airlifted to a nearby hospital. Upon seeing this tragedy, I came to terms with the serious nature of our imminent ascent.
Walking slowly is another practice to help ensure a successful acclimation to altitude; the locals say, “pole, pole,” which means “slowly, slowly” or “step by step.” A local guide named “Innocent” shared an African proverb with me, “Haraka, Haraka, Haina Baraka.” This phrase in English means, “Quick, quick has no blessing.”
The push
At midnight on Aug. 12, we started our journey from Barafu Camp at 15,331 feet, to Uhuru Peak, 19,341 feet, the summit of Kilimanjaro. Hundreds of headlamps were shining on a steep incline filled with very few switchbacks. Our group was running late and was the last to leave base camp. Fortunately, because of our high fitness levels, myself and four others were allocated three guides with a goal to reach the summit before sunrise.
The climb was one of the most difficult things I’ve ever experienced. Temperatures were at 5 degrees Fahrenheit for most of the ascension. I didn’t know it at the time, but I was experiencing a GI infection from the food and water I had been consuming. I had severe stomach pain and developed a mild headache as a result of the altitude.
I began praying the Lord’s Prayer repetitively.
As we approached Uhuru Peak, the sun was rising, casting different shades of orange and yellow sparkling off the snow. We passed by ancient Ice Age glaciers, as the mountain seemed to welcome us into its cold yet familiar arms.
On Aug 12, 6:15 a.m., we took our final steps towards the luminous Uhuru Peak summit sign. I was full of emotion and tears. I felt that I was standing on sacred ground. Our group started dead last and was the third to summit that day, with a summit push of six hours. The average summit time is anywhere between nine and 13 hours. The group shared hugs, laughter, tears, and wonder for 30 minutes atop Mount Kilimanjaro.
The experience of climbing such a daunting mountain inspired a poem, “Kilimanjaro the Guilty Volcano.”
A formidable face, hidden
Behind a cloudy veil
A tall grace, forbidden
Of vegetation, void of gale
Shall I remind you, madam
Destruction leads to construction
Of a shrine, for people and land
A rendezvous for creator and creation
And time for time to stand.