Climbing Kilimanjaro: You Can Make It Without Preparation, But You Won’t Enjoy It

I climbed Mt. Kilimanjaro last week… and I was not prepared.

 

1. No Acclimatization – I flew from Zanzibar where I had been snorkeling below sea-level, started the climb the next day, taking the shortest trek possible, 5 days.

2. Few Proper Supplies – I didn’t bring any altitude pills… or even ibuprofen… or even sunscreen or Chap Stick. The guide ‘forgot’ the first aid kit. I used an old T-shirt as a balaclava. I even forgot my toothbrush.

3. I Was Sick – I was coughing and sneezing before I even got to the mountain.

 

Climbing Kilimanjaro, the first 2 days were fine. We passed the Mandara camp (camp #1) without any difficulty and reached Horombo (camp #2) fairly easily. But I didn’t sleep at Horombo and as we hiked towards Kibo (high camp at 4,720 meters)… it was clear something was wrong.

 

What was wrong was ‘Acute Mountain Sickness’, and it was very wrong with me.

 

First, I couldn’t sleep. Both at mid and high camp, I slept maybe 1.5 hours each night, and that was when you’re supposed to over-sleep in preparation for the summit climb.

 

Lying in bed, not even moving, I was breathing like a cornered hamster at 3-4 breaths per second. I was winded after putting on my shoes and jacket. The nights were so long and cold, I questioned if I wouldn’t have felt better climbing the whole time, at least making progress and not kidding myself that I was ‘relaxing in preparation’.

 

After trying to sleep for 7 hours at high camp, and not sleeping at all, I got up for the 11PM climb to the summit. Cold. Dark. But I felt good that we were finally moving.

 

Climbing in the dark, we were at first, the only lights on the mountain. Then a few groups of lights switched on below us. These lights approached, reached, and eventually passed us one by one.

 

I was in no competitive mindset after 7 hours of bed-ridden hyperventilation, but it was painful to look up and see the small lights of the other climbers, so high above us.

 

Making sure to never ask “How much longer until we get there?” I had previously enjoyed a semi-peaceful ignorance. Now I was taunted by those small ever-present jumping beacons, reminders of how far we still needed to go, and that even that was nowhere near the top.

 

A few of these lights made such progress beyond us, that looking beyond the range of my headlamp into that infinite black-on-black abyss of mountain and sky, I sometimes wondered whether I was looking at a slowly-progressing climber or a distant star.

 

“You have blood on your lip.” the guide informed me, and I realized it was likely from my chapped lips and my throat, both torn from heavily breathing cold air and my persistent cough.

 

As the sun rose, and as we approached the summit I would take 3-5 steps and curl myself over the walking poles. “IynowIneedahkeepwalkinh” I pushed through frozen, dry lips… continuing once again.

 

Upon reaching the summit my guide snapped a few pictures, but I didn’t feel much of anything. Then we began the similarly slow and exhausting climb back down to high camp. This took almost as long for us as the climb up, and for me it’s all a daze.

 

Here are some pictures, from the bottom of the mountain to the top.

 

At the start of the journey, I look and feel ready for action. A bit sick, a little coughing, but who lets that stop them.

 

Leaving the first camp, still feeling like my normal self.

 

Reaching Horombo (camp #2) I’m starting to feel a bit uneasy. I slept about 1 hour that night, but whatever, suck it up kiddo.

 

Getting to Kibo (high camp) I see frost on the ground. Again, I don’t sleep at all, but that’s fine, right, because we’re getting up at 11PM to climb anyway.

 

Leaving Kibo at 11PM, we begin the climb. We’re going slow and allowing others to pass. When we reach Stella Point, the sun is up and the snot from my nose mixes with the blood from my lips and throat. Lovely.

 

When we finally reach the summit… I look like a member of the 40+ Grumpy Climbers Club.

 

Lots of people love climbing. My dad loves climbing. The Irish guy I met on Kili who’s done K2 and Everest and even some never-before-climbed peaks… he loves climbing.

 

But damn, when you don’t do any preparation, acclimatization, or proper packing and when you’re sick at basecamp… you can really hate climbing.

 

What I Take Away From Kili Is This:

 

Yes, with mental toughness you can reach your peaks, you can push through so long as you keep telling yourself “IynowIneedahkeepwalkinh” through frozen, bleeding lips… but if you actually want to enjoy your climbing, then don’t be a fool. Prepare a little bit beforehand.