“Kilimanjaro is a snow-covered mountain 19,710 feet high, and is said to be the highest mountain in Africa. Its western summit is called the Masai “Ngaje Ngai,” the House of God. Close to the western summit there is the dried and frozen carcass of a leopard. No one has explained what the leopard was seeking at that altitude.”

-Ernest Hemingway, The Snows of Kilimanjaro-

Kilimanjaro stands as the tallest mountain on the African continent standing at 19,340ft. Parker and Makayla successfully summitted the mountain in June 2018.

June 20

After 24 hours of traveling, we arrived at Kilimanjaro International Airport at 5:00AM local time. A swarm of tourists exited the plane to fill the Visa line 100 people deep. Meanwhile the Tanzanian…Tanzanite….Tanzania citizen line welcomed it’s single entrant back the country as we watched longingly while waiting for a single customs officer to fingerprint a stamp the passports of the anxiously remaining group who by the looks of it were clearly not from around here.

Customs cleared, we found our bags, only slightly worse for the wear and made our way outside into the cool, dark Tanzania morning to be greeted by “Mohammed” our taxi driver. Makayla was in awe of the van which had a steering wheel on the right side, the likes of which she had never seen before. Mo drove us the final hour through the plains of Tanzania and told us about local history of 120 tribes including the Masai tribe as well as German and British colonization. As riveting of a storyteller as Mo was, Makayla drifted off to sleep as the effects of jetlag and 24hrs of travel began to take over. The sun began to rise as we arrived in Moshi or “Mosh-town” as Mo called it and we were brought to the substantially fortified and beautifully gardened Springlands Hotel, just in time for breakfast.

The day consisted of sleeping, eating, sleeping, checking email on WiFi (pronounced here as whiff-eeee), and sleeping some more. In between REM cycles we were introduced to our jubilant climbing guide “Jonny” and his more reserved assistant guides “Joshua” and “Robert”. Jonny smiles from ear to ear, wears a bright blue paisley shirt, and in typical African fashion reminds us Hakuna Matata, to relax as we discuss the details of the impending 6 day hike to the top of Africa’s tallest peak. As we understand it we will be climbing with 6 porters, 3 guides, 1 kitchen boy, and 1 to carry a portable toilet. We are employing a small army, an idea that challenges my independence, but the Tanzania government wouldn’t have it any other way; and I take comfort knowing that kind souls like Jonny are blessed to have such fortunate jobs in an area that depends greatly on tourism.

Tomorrow we will meet our guides at 8:30AM for a drive to the Machame Gate. From there, the six day hike will begin. There are many other climbers heading out at the same time, but we will be personally cared for by our 9 man crew. We are excited about the adventure ahead, and look forward to sharing pictures and stories when we return.

“The food is good and the people are kind” -Parker

“My favorite part is spending time with you” -Makayla

June 21 – Moshi to Machame Gate to Machame Camp (5,900ft to 9,800ft)

Our journey to the summit of Africa began after a hardy porridge breakfast and loading our gear bags on top of a van destined for the Machame Gate. An hour-long car ride gave Makayla ample time to to wrestle with the unknowns of the climb to come…how will we sleep in tents, not wash our hair for a week, the cold, the danger, the…toilets. Some questions are better left unanswered. Although I hear that one luxury outfitter will even provide porters to setup portable hot showers at each camp; for a price that would nearly quadruple the cost of our trip.

 

 

After checking in at the Ranger Station and provisioning the porters, the Machame route begins to ascend through the African rainforest. The jungle is ripe with greenery, moss, vines, and trees that look as if they were plucked from The Jungle Book cartoon. The plantlife is so lush that you could cut through the oxygen with a knife. The floating drift-mist is a visual reminder of the pristinely fresh air we have the privilege of inhaling. And the monkeys, so many monkeys, long-tailed monkeys, loud monkeys, thieving monkeys, black and white striped skunkeys. They all dance effortlessly through the vines and branches above our heads.

The porters (carrying loads larger than Makayla) hurry on ahead to prepare camp. The remaining trio – Makayla, Jonny, and I hike through the jungle to meet them later in the afternoon. Our five hour hike provides an opportunity to get to know Jonny a little better and figure out what is behind that contagious smile. It is not long after beginning to share stories that we find that Jonny too is a follower of Christ, and our guide-client pleasantries took to a deeper level now realizing we were walking with a brother in Christ. Our conversation this day meandered from love for Jesus, to thanking God in trials, to unity through denominational differences, to spiritual warfare, to the power of the Spirit in faith, to care for orphans and widows, and much in between. The conversations were encouraging to say the least, so encouraging that our pace perpetually increased as we talked, up to the point that Makayla was out of breath and we realized that we needed to…as the locals say “Pole Pole” and walk slowly slowly if we were to make it to the summit on Day 5.

June 22 – Machame Camp to Shira Camp (9,800ft to 12,600ft)

Day 2 brought us out of the jungle and into the alpine tundra as we gained elevation and the vegetation began to subside. This offered some of our first clear views of Kilimanjaro which had previously hid itself under a veil of clouds. The rocky trail steepens and our hike becomes more familiar; reminiscent of our stair climber training back home in Houston. Jonny shares more stories as we climb. At 39 years old he has summitted 309 times including once with an 81 year old man. He has plans to set the record for youngest summit by climbing with his 7 year old daughter next year. The weather begins to cool, and jackets are welcomed for warmth, but I can still feel my fingers so I’ll call this a relatively warm climb so far. After dinner, Jonny checks our blood oxygenation levels with a pulse oximeter. Makayla and I are acclimating well with readings that would be more indicative of sea-level than twelve thousand feet. We take that news along with the incredible views at Shira Camp as a welcomed motivational boost.

 

June 23 – Shira Camp to Lava Tower to Barranco Camp (12,600ft to 15,000ft to 13,000ft)

By the third day of the climb, we were set to reach an an elevation of 15,000ft, higher than any point in the continental United States, before descending to 13,000ft and sleeping at an elevation higher than Makayla had ever stood previously. Many climbers suffer Acute Mountain Sickness (AMS) at these levels and there is little one can do to alleviate it except for going back down the mountain. We were on a strict six day schedule so this option could only be afforded at the expense of the summit. This day would be a benchmark for our fitness and an indication of our ability to continue the climb. Despite waking to freezing temperatures, we were granted beautiful views of the sunrise over Kilimanjaro.

After a cold start to the hike, the rising sun began to warm the landscape rapidly. Jonny ran into a porter who was in personal despair after the loss of his wife, and he wasted no time before beginning to share that their is great hope in Christ. As Jonny shares the Gospel, his pace again quickens and the porter leaves encouraged. Meanwhile we had been struggling to keep up. With the faster pace and warmer weather, our puffy jackets went from comfort blanket to straight jacket in seconds and Makayla was regretting the double layers. We took a short rest break to huddle behind a rock and shed layers before continuing on toward Lava Tower, the highest point Makayla had ever hiked. After a new ensemble, Makayla was feeling very strong and hiking at her best pace of the trip. I, on the other hand, was struggling to keep down the abundance of food I had gorged myself on earlier that morning. Jonny had previously accused us of under-eating (a possible sign of AMS). “I’ll show him” -I thought- Never a wise statement on a mountain, as I burped my way up to Lava Tower.

 

After a hot lunch at Lava Tower, we were feeling great, and confidently descended, rounding the backside of the mountain along streams of flowing glacier melt echoing through the valley. A slight mist rain softened the soil as we drew closer to Barranco Camp. Winding down to camp we walk through a trail lined with giant cactus trees. Jonny explained the name in Swahili but I’m not sure I could translate. It looked like something out of a Dr. Seuss book. Finally at our destination, Barranco Camp was the largest camp yet, with some 100 tents and climbers from countless countries and teams. The first great melting pot of the mountain.

June 24 – Barranco Camp to Barafu Camp (13,000ft to 15,100ft)

The hike to Barafu Camp was set to be our longest hike yet, and our last good night of sleep, since we’d be waking up at midnight the following night to attempt the summit. Unfortunately Makayla’s nerves got the best of her and started our ascent to base camp on only three our of sleep. She toughed it out and got steadily stronger as we crossed glacier streams and scrambled up the rock wall leaving Barranco Camp. Looking back on camp from the cliffs revealed a scene out of Avatar with glacier melt streams turning to multiple waterfalls cascading over the cliffs to the valley below. The entire camp had been perched on the plateau above, with its beauty hidden until we had climbed far enough away to admire the view. My photographic memory will have to suffice sense I neglected to pull out the camera that morning.

 

As the sun came up and the weather warmed, Makayla’s motivation was returning as she enjoyed “exploring” through the rock scrambles. The clear views of the summit helped encourage our steady pace as we arrived at Karanga Camp for a hot lunch. Our bellies full, we continued on to base camp to complete our seven hour day.

The last hour into Barafu Camp was marked by a rescue helicopter flying overhead and landing near camp to (I assume) bring down a climber suffering from AMS or an injury. After reaching camp, our view out the tent window revealed summit climbers descending far later in the afternoon than normal, most of whom were incoherently stumbling their way down the mountain and flanked by guides holding either arm for safety. Makayla asked a very reasonable question, “Could that happen to us?” I assure her that we are always going to turn around before getting to that point if we feel unsafe. After climbing together for the last four days, we are feeling strong, the weather is clear, and I’m liking our chances. Now if we could only get more than three hours of sleep this time before our midnight wakeup call.

June 25 – Barafu Camp to Uhuru Peak to Mweka Camp (15,100ft to 19,340ft to 10,200ft)

Summit day began in the cold of night. At 11PM, we woke to thaw our bodies with tea and breakfast. Makayla’s nerves still running rampant, she barely manages to down a few bites of porridge. We layer up with our heaviest parkas and light the way through the darkness with our headlamps. We are hiking by midnight and among the middle of the pack among climbers who are leaving for the summit that night. The next seven hours are quiet, dark, cold, and unphotographable. The only visible signs of life are a zig-zagging trail of headlamps like little stars winding their way up the trail above and behind us. It is far colder than I would have expected and I am having to shake blood back into my hands to maintain feeling. It’s not quite Denali cold, but I’m guessing we are close to -5°F.

Three hours into summit night and the steep rock trail turns to ice. With each step we plant our feet into a platform kicked out by a laboring climber ahead. We are quiet. Climbing in this kind of misery leaves one battling themselves in their own mind. Mustering up the courage to continue, when your frozen bones are crying out to give up. Somewhere between ice cold steps and three bites of porridge Makayla came close to hitting a wall. Our discerning guides decide to lighten her load and our assistant guide, Robert grabs her pack when she is not looking at a rest stop. None of us are carrying much more in our packs than a couple of water bottles and a Snickers bar, but even this small gesture brings a smile to our faces as we are amazed by the generosity and strength of our guides.

Makayla and I are now climbing at a stronger pace as we near the summit ridge after six long hours in the pitch black. Another water break on the ridge and we are on toward the final hour up the ridge to the summit. Climbing toward the 19,340ft summit we are now breathing close to 50% of the oxygen levels that we would enjoy at sea level. A far cry from the oxygen saturated jungle from only days earlier. Each breath is labored and each step feels like a mile. As we take our final steps toward the summit of Kilimanjaro, the glowing African sun begins to rise at our backs – welcoming us to the rooftop of the continent.

We were overjoyed to have made it to the summit, but making it to the top is only half the battle. On the way back down the summit ridge, Jonny snapped a few photos of the majestic views above the clouds. We had made it back down through the ice by donning crampons, a fresh experience for Makayla. She did well, although our cheap rentals wore out after a couple of hours and I was happy to get rid of them once we were free of the ice.The decent back to Barafu Camp was much quicker than the ascent reaching camp after three hours, now 10AM in the morning.

We rested for two hours before continuing our descent, back past the helipad where less fortunate climbers had been carried away only a day earlier. Did I mention Makayla was feeling a lot less nervous now, and began eating a healthy serving again after lunch? We had a renewed energy which I wish I could say lasted the rest of the day, but eventually the trail steepened and our knees were taking a beating. 17 exhausting hours after beginning summit day, we reached Mweke Camp. We had ascended 4,000ft and descended 9,000ft in a single day. At sunrise we couldn’t feel our toes on the ice, and by sundown we were sweating in the humidity of the jungle. We were too tired to process what we had accomplished, and simply grateful to rest our weary knees.

June 26 – Mweka Camp to Mweka Gate (10,200ft to 4,900ft)

We awoke feeling much better at our lowest elevation in a week. The porters and guides sing a goodbye song to the mountain as they break down camp on the final day…”Ki-li-man-jar-o….Ha-ku-na Ma-ta-ta!” It was only three final hours through the rainforest to the park gate and the joyful tune of the porters looped through my mind as we finished the climb. This team of porters and guides worked tirelessly throughout the trip to support our efforts, and we would not have made it to the summit without their teamwork. We are especially grateful for our super-strong assistant guide Robert and our lead guide Jonny who’s joyful, Christ-filled spirit often encouraged us when we were feeling down. Tanzania is a beautiful country with some incredible people. I recommend viewing it from the summit. We had so much fun that I almost forgot it was pouring down rain the last day until I saw this picture. OK DJ, queue the song Africa by Toto…”Bless the rains down in Africa!”