The climb and bad weather at the summit

The Climb

I had read many blogs and heard several personal accounts which I thought had prepared me for this experience. I was so wrong. I believe everyone's experience is their own. You just have to do it and see for yourself.

My moods and emotions changed as often as the landscape. One minute I was exhilarated and enjoying the scenery, the next minute I was wondering why I ever came up with this crazy idea. Why didn't I choose a spa vacation? When it was apparent that Augie's heart wouldn't allow him to go on, I was ready to go back down with him on day three. But I continued on at his insistence. Day three turned out to be the worst of all. For some reason, it seemed to be endless agony. None of us can quite figure out why. Maybe it was the climbing up to 15,000 feet, then back down to 13,000. Maybe it was the extra long time it took to get to our lunch break. Maybe it was the fact that, what should have been a 6 hour climb, took us 9.

Whatever the reason, Tanya, Stan and I were all ready to call it quits. We even asked Eli, our guide, how to get down. He told us the easiest way was to continue on tomorrow to the half way point, then there would be a road we could walk to and get a car to take us down. We agreed to wait until tomorrow to see how we felt. I lay in my tent thinking how can I survive three more days of this?

Day four we all woke up bright and chipper and ready for a new day and a new challenge. It turned out to be my favorite. Rock climbing up a straight wall, the Barranco Wall! I think the scenery was some of the most breath-taking of all. Many people were complaining, but I loved it.

We are a diverse group of six -- Mary Ann, an out of shape 63 year old with a new hip; Augie, 61 and reasonably fit, but with a heart condition; me, a reasonably fit 61; Tanya and Stan, mid 50s and in very good shape; and Ryan, a 27 year old extreme sports enthusiast. We were accompanied by two guides, three assistant guides, 17 porters, one cook, and one toilet porter (bless his heart!).

It took an army to get us all to the Barafu Huts Base Camp, where we prepared ourselves for the summit. I was amazed that Mary Ann made it this far, and very proud of Ryan for standing by his mom and helping her make it up this far. But she decided that she would not attempt the climb.

We awoke for our climb at midnight to find ourselves in the middle of a snow storm. There was already six inches of snow on the ground and it was steadily falling. Shivering, I put on my three layers of clothing, only to find I could no longer find my feet. I went into the mess tent for breakfast and the guides helped to put on my gaters. It was so dark, I didn't ever realize that the guide they had assigned to me was Stanley, who had been assisting me all the way up the mountain. I was one of the first to begin, because they knew I would be the slowest. As I moved my way slowly up the hill, everyone passed me by. First Ryan (who, finally free from his mother, raced up the hill - one of the first up and first back), then Tanya and Stan.

The snow and ice made it twice as difficult as it would normally have been. Every step took double effort to keep yourself from sliding backwards, or slipping off the rocks. After four and a half hours, and I was still a little less than half way up, I noticed that people started to turn around and start back down. I told myself that if Tanya and Stan were among these people, I would join them. I was beginning to have a hard time keeping my eyes opened, and I kept asking Stanley if I could just lay down and take a nap for a few minutes until the sun came up.

All I could see in front of me was a line of lights going strait up - I don't mean at a slant, I mean straight up! This sucker was steep! Finally, I heard Stan's voice. His upper resperatory problem was preventing him from continuing, so I decided to join him.

I thought the hard part was over. Was I wrong! Going down took me another four hours. Luckily, I had Stanley and Joseph to help me make it back to camp. I had a breakfast of french fries and vegetables with Ryan and then dragged myself to my tent to try to sleep. I fell into my tent with all my layers of clothes. I couldn't even untie my boots. I lay with my feet hanging out of my tent. One of the portors came and unhooked my gaters and took off my boots. I slept for about an hour and it seemed like ten.

We could have chosen the easier Marangu route, called the "Coka Cola" route, but I chose the Machame, called the "Whiskey" route. I would recommend it to anyone. It may be more difficult, but it is also more scenic. Every day is different. The vistas are incredible. We did the climb in six days, but I would recommend the seven day version. You get to spend the night at the Karanga Camp, then continue on the next day the three to four hour hike to the Barafu Huts Base Camp. You have the whole day to rest up and prepare for your summit.

I may have made this sound like a horrible experience, but that's not the case. I am left with an overwhelming sense of accomplishment. I set out to do something challenging and, even though I didn't make it to the summit, I feel very satisfied and proud of myself for sticking it out as long as I did. I would not trade this experience for the world. But I am definitely crossing K-2 off my Bucket List!

Our heros - Tanya and Ryan

Out of the six uf us, only Tanya and Ryan made it to the top. Tanya out of sheer determination and Ryan out of youthful stamina. Ryan was like a young race horse finally being let off the reins after having to hike so slowly for five days, helping his mother make it as far as she did. He passed everyone up on the path and made it to the top in six hours, then back down in three.

We never saw Tanya again until dinner at the Mweka Camp because she took nine hours to get to the top and three hours to get down. When she finally limped into our mess tent for dinner, her face was sunburned and she was beat, but she had a triumphant glow about her. She shared with us her pictures from the summit, which she was too tired to take. Eli had taken her camera while she sat on the box under the sign and ate a power bar.

Unfortunately, we have no pictures of Ryan's accomplishment. That night at Mweka Camp, someone broke into Mary Ann and Ryan's tent and stole their day packs with all their camera equipment in them. Ryan was devastated, to say the least. Things can be replaced, but his pictures cannot. But we all know he did it, and they can't take his memories or his pride away.

We're all proud of you, Ryan and Tanya!