THE CHALLENGE OF KILIMANJARO
For this final report Benji hands over the
narrative to Phil who describes the challenge of a lifetime
Well what can I say about Kilimanjaro – it's not possible to find the words to describe the extremes that this challenge threw at me and those other individuals who were deluded enough to believe that this ‘trek’ would be anything less.
Everything about this challenge was extreme – from the flights lasting many, many hours, stopping off in various countries of the world through to sixteen men having to share one small Portaloo – you can only try to imagine the scenes of horror that met you first thing in the morning!
Tanzania is a country that presents many different facets of life
and this is no more personified than in the varying extremes that
You come to make camp on the first night and you are greeted by a small tent, no more than four feet by seven feet which you believe is manageable, until you are informed that you are sharing with another climber and all the kit the two of you have brought for the climb – it suddenly becomes a very cramped environment. If you have any inhibitions regarding personal hygiene then this is not a challenge for you!!
Day two arrives after a restless night and now the altitude starts to kick in – two of our party had to go back at this point – their bodies physically drained from trying to come to terms with the thinning atmosphere. The landscape becomes bleaker with the lush vegetation of the rainforest slowly being replaced by fewer but more hardy shrubs. By the end of day three we are up to nearly 4,000 metres in altitude and another of our party has had to return to the hotel, severely affected by the ever increasing influence of the thinning atmosphere and increasing altitude.
The photo to the right is of me on day four having just completed the ascent of the Barranco Wall. This had taken almost six hours and how little did I appreciate that there would be another six hours of climbing to go. However, that was not the end of that day because, despite retiring to bed at approximately 8.15 p.m., we were to rise at 11.00 p.m. to begin the ascent to the summit – very few of us got more than an hour’s rest that evening – excited at the prospect of reaching the goal of our challenge – Uhuru Peak at 5,896 metres.
The ascent to the summit began at midnight, the skies were clear and the peak could be easily seen in the moonlight. The temperature was already below freezing and our pace was slow but steady. The terrain was now steep and rocky with only narrow paths for guidance. The temperature quickly plunged to -12°C with an additional wind chill of up to -10°C. We reached 5,000 metres and now the mountain was throwing everything it could at us – the team doctor was busy checking individuals who complained of altitude sickness. For me, the previous four days of climbing, although challenging, had been within my comfort levels when compared to many in the team, but now I began to suffer. Alternating waves of nausea, dizziness and headaches swept over me and I hoped, as in previous days, they would last only a few minutes before subsiding. However, on this occasion they did not subside, only getting stronger, making every step a challenge as we continued the climb.
We had reached 5,500metres and a well deserved break and, whilst stopped, I felt okay, starting to look forward to the final push. Then I was told to eat something by one of our team leaders; this was against my natural instincts but I knew how important energy would be for the final ascent. Reluctantly I ate an energy bar, immediately I started to retch, my body rejecting the valuable source of fuel. I swallowed hard as the message to resume the climb filtered down the group. We started to climb but unbeknown to me, I was struggling, staggering along the narrow mountain path. A team leader approached me, asked me my name – ‘Phil’ came back the response and where was I going was the next question. ‘I’m going to bed so please bring me a blanket’ I replied – the team leader looked at me and immediately called the doctor over. One look from the doc and I was administered medication and a guide was instructed to get me back to base camp as quickly as possible.
The next day, doc came to check me over; I said if she had just given me a couple of minutes to rest I would have been okay. I did not have a couple of minutes – I had not realised that I was in the advanced stages of High Altitude Cerebral Edema (HACE) and was in danger of slipping into unconsciousness – descent was the only course of action. Doc believed acending another 100 metres may have proved fatal.
Although I didn't reach the summit of Kilimanjaro, I do know that I could not have pushed my body any further and as such believe that I conquered many other summits. None of this would have been possible without the support of many and they I would like to thank. Firstly, many thanks to all of you who kind enough to sponsor me – your kind and generous donations are greatly appreciated. If you would still like to make a donation then please forward cheques or cash to Darren Worthy at Park Hall Autism Resource Centre. Secondly, to my colleagues in NORSACA who believed in me and supported me throughout the challenge especially Fred Parsons and the team at Eastwood House. Most of all to my wife, Debbie and my two sons, Arron and Jake – their support was unfaltering throughout the year of training and when I was away. Finally, to my dog, Benji – my training buddy who did not get to do the climb – don’t worry boy – Ben Nevis awaits!!
Best Wishes,
Phil
P.S. You can also read the first, second and third reports on Phil's training!
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