July 21 - 22
15200 feet – 19341 feet –
10000 feet
13 miles, 14 hours
10 PM rolls around – time
to get up and get our clothes on for the summit push!
·
2 layers of long
underwear (expedition weight and midweight)
·
Hiking pants
·
Rain pants
·
T-shirt (over the
long underwear)
·
Parka
·
Gaiters (to
protect lower legs)
·
Balaclava for my
face
·
2 hats (one
woven, one fleece)
·
Socks
·
Sock warmers
·
Boots
It was hard to even get
dressed – all those layers were insane, and yet we knew we’d need them once we
got close to the summit. It would be
necessary since tonight was clear, no clouds to hold in some of the heat from
the day. It was going to be a cold one
(-15 Celsius, 2 Farenheit). The moon was
full and the trail could be seen without headlamps, lending an ethereal glow to
the whole experience.
Just one step after the
other…watch Anderson’s boots. One step,
another step, Dagny, Sintu, Joe, Lori, Mom, Dad, Roscoe….seven steps
down….repeat….Dagny, Sintu, Joe, Lori, Mom, Dad, Roscoe…
4 hours later, I ran into
a problem. We were between 16,500 and
17,000 feet when my body decided to stop working. I would tell my foot to move and my hand
would move instead. I was dizzy, had a
headache, and was crying hysterically.
Anderson told me not to worry, when the sun came up I would feel better,
but the sunrise was still three hours away and I knew I didn’t have that
long. Another few hundred feet and I was
going to be carried down the mountain.
The only things running through my mind were my kids and the fact that I
didn’t want the rest of the climbers to think worse of me for not being able to
go on.
So I pulled the plug for
myself. I said “I have to go down” and I
told Marc to keep going, though of course he wouldn’t. He was too worried about me and it had been
something we were doing together. He
wouldn’t go up without me. He told me later
that Max had said “Come on, Marc” and that Jen had replied for him: “He won’t
leave her. He’s going down with Steph.” Marc was pretty grateful for her to have
understood. I am, too.
So, with Anderson in the
lead, we turned back to go down instead of making the summit. It took 2 and a half hours to get down the
mountain, skidding on scree and taking the switchbacks we’d taken on the way
up. A woman passed us going down, her
guide holding tightly to her arm. She
appeared to have High Altitude Blindness and I remember thinking how glad I was
that I could still see.
Once we got down, the
porters had to find our things. They had
moved them to the cook tent so they could all watch, which was okay with me,
even though standing up any longer was becoming difficult. Marc says I collapsed, but I don’t remember
that.
I got in the sleeping bag
with both layers of long underwear on and put my parka over the bag – I still
couldn’t stop shivering. Anderson said
that was bad, maybe a sign of hypothermia and I was going to have to keep
going. They would feed me some
breakfast, then send us on our way. I
tried to sleep for an hour or so, but by 7:30 I was back in the mess tent with
hot tea, still in my parka, still shivering.
 |
| Tim's picture of the sunrise from Stella Point |
At about 8:15, Anderson
let us know someone else was coming into camp and it was Tim. He was as high as a kite, having taken a
single dose of Diamox the night before from my bag, just as I was leaving the
group (he’s not supposed to have blood thinners). He had made it to Stella Point, gotten a
picture of the sunrise, and walked to within 50 feet of the summit at Uhuru
before having heart palpitations so severe he was afraid he might have a heart
attack. So instead of trying for the
sign, he came down the mountain FAST. James
brought him, which changed my mind about James, and they surfed the scree all
the way down, coming back into camp in just 55 minutes. Amazing.
Completely Amazing. Tim was
almost in tears about how James was his hero and it made me cry, too.
They fed all of us shortly
thereafter, a warm and chunky potato stew that was just wonderful, before
telling us we had to keep walking to Mweka camp, which was at 10,000 feet where
we would all feel much better. I was
still unsteady, Tim was still high, and Marc, of course, was just fine. He would have made it had he kept going, but
I am glad he followed me. I felt much
safer with him behind me.
 |
| Sandi, Mad Max, and Jen at the sign for Uhuru Peak The Highest point in Africa! So Proud of them!! |
As we were leaving Barafu,
we could see the girls just coming in to camp.
They had both made it and needed some rest and food before
following. That was good and it was
great to see them.
 |
| On the trail between Barafu Camp and High Camp (where we didn't stop) - had someone had to be rescued, a porter would have come and gotten this cart to roll them down the mountain. |
The trail to Mweka camp
was just awful – more a cow track than anything else. It was rocky, uneven, and very hard on the
knees, though the view was beautiful. I
can see why people say that down is harder than up, it was!! A whole new set of muscles has to be used and
each step felt like fire.
 |
| The trail from High Camp to Mweka Camp - REALLY difficult. |
I fell twice, once with no
damage whatsoever, though I needed help to get up since it was very
awkward. I twisted my ankle on the next
one, but it wasn’t so bad – the boots were very helpful for that.
Once we reached Mweka
Camp, Tim forged the girls’ signatures so they could come straight to camp and
we went to find our campsite. Next to
Shira One, this was my favorite camp.
There were flowering yellow trees everywhere and our camp was among a
small grove of them, giving us shelter and shade.
We gave Anderson our extra
headlamp and batteries – he had used a flashlight the night before to get us
down the mountain. It was crazy!
We had a great
conversation with Mad Max that night. He
thinks that I was developing a cerebral edema (brain swelling) and that I made
the right decision to come down. He was
so congratulatory for all of us and so happy that we were all happy. It was very uplifting.
And still there was dirt –
I think there was still dirt on me from the first day, honestly – I am
convinced at this time that I will be dirty forever.
 |
| The dirt that never comes off. Not quite as dramatic on film. |
No comments:
Post a Comment