I’m used to summit days starting early i.e. 3am, but never Midnight! Sure enough at 11pm Imran shock the tent, a sure indication that he expected us to get up, from the warm and cosy confines of our sleeping bags, on what was a very cold night!

You might not be, but you might be interested, anyway below is what I was wearing:

Trekking shoes (as Colin had my boots)
One pair of thick socks
Thermal leggings (Max Wall variety, just like Uncle Les’s)
Thick winter walking trousers (for any Americans readers, trousers = pants, if you’re not sure, look it up in the Oxford Dictionary!)
String Vest… I can already hear laughter, but I will turn the other cheek. It is the warmest base layer I have ever come across.
Yak wool full sleeved crew.
Mid-layer fleece with hood.
Lightweight down jacket, with hood.
Thermal Bandanna, around my neck. This can also be pulled up over my mouth to warm the air as it passes down the throat. This stops the very dry, cold air from causing coughing fits, affectionately called ‘The Khumbu Cough’.
Suunto Peak watch and heart rate monitor (if it’s that cold that I’m not sure which side of life I’m on then I can check).
Windproof gloves

Backup:

Extra fleece
Down-filled mittens

Not much backup, but you can probably assume that I was expecting it to be cold. And it was.

A midnight start along with 100 or so others. Fortunately, we started with only a few in front and it wasn’t long before we were leading the main groups. It’s a lot easier to be the pacesetter, rather than pace follower. The moon lit the bulk of Kilimanjaro as a snake of single lights wound its way up the mountain. At around 3:30am the moon set and the sky lit up with millions of bright stars. In a place of zero light pollution, the array is magical as stars flicker into life as others die in a timescale that is almost incomprehensible.

400m below Stella Point and the terrain steepened and our breathing becomes seriously laboured. Every step is hard and the breaks taken every few metres are welcomed with a sense of relief only found when you gulp in a mouth full of air after holding your breath underwater as long as you can. Maybe a little dramatic, so let’s just say breathing was damned hard work. Imran and Francis appeared not to be affected by this lack of oxygen, which was just a tadge annoying and I would have said so, if I could have caught my breath!

We reached Stella Point at 05:50, leaving just enough time to reach P Peak before sunrise at 06:34. A little precise, I know, but the geek that I am, I bought an app that every photographer should have, The Photographers Ephemeris! Shows the time when the ‘golden hour’ is in any location in the world. Stella Point to Uhura Peak was an easy stroll, compared with the path up to Stella Point.

Sunrise

The sunrise was amazing with the shadow of Kilimanjaro touching Meru Peak 20 or 30k away. The massive crater filled with a golden light and the glaciers turned an orangey red, within minutes the golden hue turned to a brilliant yellow as the sun rose rapidly, shedding its now harsh light over the whole mountain.

Kilimanjaro’s Shadow stretching to Meru Peak

We, of course, took the obligatory photographs on the summit, with a queue rapidly building as the hordes of Kilimanjaro summiteers reached the top.

The Obligatory Photograph

The top is a desolate place, with the rapidly shrinking glaciers revealing the barren nature of this once active volcano. The glaciers are different to any I’ve seen before. They appear to be placed on top, sculptured individually, lifeless, dying slowly year by year. A glacier is metaphorically a living entity, moving gracefully down to point where it reveals its next stage, the essence and giver of life… Water. These glaciers seem to have given up, retreating within themselves and giving nothing back, in return.

Down, it was time for Kilimanjaro Skiing! The volcanic dust gives the either brave or stupid a rapid means of descent. In the UK we call it Scree Riding. You run, digging your heels into the dust/scree and let the momentum take you down. Takes a certain amount of confidence, praying that you manage to avoid any solid rocks. The consequence of hitting a solid rock tends to be a fall! What took six hours to get up, took Imran and me only two hours to descend. Colin was not so confident and took the more traditional way of descent, walking down the path. Takes a little longer, but you tend to come away with fewer bruises!

We reached the tent just after 10:00am, brunch was prepared, but neither of us was hungry. Colin, suffered in my boots coming down. As I said in a previous blog they were a size too large and his toes had banged against the front of the boot on the way down, causing some bruising. We still had a further 2,000m of descent to M camp. He decided to walk the next seven kilometres in his sandals! We rested for a further hour, packed and headed to M camp, where the ‘O’s’ would be more numerous. Colin’s progress was slow as North Face were once again, being verbally abused with every step he took.

Francis and I went ahead of Colin and Imran arriving at M camp an hour ahead. The sandals caused blisters where the straps went over the top of his feet, I can feel a compensation claim coming on! However, Summit day was now over after 15 hours and a night sleep lost. Nothing though can dull the memory and delight at summiting the largest free-standing mountain in the world.