Day Four August 3, 2016

The Game of Thrones Wall and Other Monstrosities

I wake up feeling very nervous for what is ahead. The wall. My nerves are eased when our porters gather my group to sing and dance to get us pumped for the day. Michael our guide is an incredible rapper. Some of the dance moves I witnessed by the porters absolutely changed my life.

We begin our journey to the "Game of Thrones" wall, or Baranco Wall. It looked easy enough from far away, but as I am facing it, having to crane my neck and back to get a glimpse of the top, my only thought was, "What the hell did I sign up for?" It is steep and will require a ton of scrambling. Although it seemed daunting, it was actually very fun. Trying not to fall off the face of a mountain can actually be an enjoyable experience. There is a point called "The Kissing Rock" where you hug a rock for dear life while your guide holds onto you so you don't fall straight to your death. I kissed it for good luck.

Upon reaching the plateau of the wall, the world seemed endless. I felt like I was in space. I could trace the ozone layer with my finger and a bed of clouds surrounded us. I am not sure if this view took my breath away or the altitude, but I can tell you that the past four days of walking had been completely worth it. My friends and I take pictures of ourselves pretending to fall of the edge. I feel on top of the world, because I pretty much am.

We then descend for what seems like an eternity and I am bitter because I worked so hard to make it that high only to come back down again. Arrival at camp is a jubilation short lived because I know that at 11:30 p.m. tonight, I would be waking up and walking another seven to eight hours to the tippy top of Kilimanjaro. I am excited in a sense but mostly overtaken with anxiety.

Our group has been reading increments of a Kilimanjaro guide book provided by Thomas, one of my group members. We decide to read during dinner, although we typically read it during breakfast but that option will no longer present itself. The author claims that this is the most challenging point of the trip, with endless walking accompanied by the sound of "sobs" and cold so chilling that it "insinuates itself between the layers of your clothes, penetrating your skin, chilling your bones and numbing the marrow until finally, inevitably, it seems to freeze your very soul."

Day Five August 4, 2016

Summit Day: The Worst Best Day of My Life

I awake at 11:30 pm feeling numb. I don't want to think about what I am about to do. I refuse to acknowledge it, but fear is a strong enough emotion to penetrate the numbness. What if I don't make it to the top? What if I physically cannot do it? All this work, all this pain. To not make it would ruin me. As I put on layer after layer of clothing, integrating random toe and hand warmers into my pants, gloves, bra and balaclava, I doubt I will freeze to my very soul.

My group meets in the food tent but I don't really hear what anyone is saying. Clouded by inner thoughts, our guide gives us a play by play of the day, but I don't think I really comprehended. 7 to 8 hours to the top and then 4 hours of decent. After reaching camp we would then continue to descend for another 4 hours. Hmmm, that sounds absolutely awful, but the thought of finally leaving the mountain was my motivation. I want to go home to my family. I want McDonalds and my bed.

It is pitch black outside with only the stars illuminating the sky and a long line of headlamps that can be traced from the camp to the summit of the mountain. It's an incredible sight, but terrifying considering it looks never ending and I know I will be walking that same steep path.

We begin walking and 40 minutes in I feel my stomach turning inside out. I know I am going to throw up. I tell myself to hold it down, with fear that my guides won't let me continue if they feel I am sick. I count to 10 over and over again, trying not to think about anything but the numbers. Every thought makes me want to gag. I can't see anything except for what's ahead. We pass by rocks so incomprehensibly large that they also make me want to vomit. Why the hell are these rocks so big? The ground has the consistency of quick sand. One step forward and then you find yourself sliding back to where you just were. The frustration was mounting just like the bile in my throat. At some point, I can't take it anymore. We stop for a break and I immediately find a rock to throw up on. SWEET RELIEF.

I somehow end up in the front of the group and I am right behind the lead guide, Michael. He yells at me every few minutes to keep going. "Common Tayla, you gotta keep going." I hate him, but only because he is right. I look to the right of the horizon and the sun is rising. I have a panoramic view. Dark blues, shades of orange, purples and reds mingle together to create something so stunning that it looks painted. Every moment provides a change in the sky. I am sweating and not even wearing gloves at this point. My friend Meredith tells me it is 5 am. Holy shit! We have been walking for 6 hours already?! This gives me a surge to make it. Stella point is only an hour away.

That hour was the most brutal and painful hour of my entire life. The mountain seemed to slant at a completely slanted angle, making every step leg breaking. My calves felt like jelly and my lungs hurt. The air is so thin that I have to breath fast and deep. I fall to the back. I notice that the four other people in my group are nowhere to be seen. Just Liam, Meredith, Eric and I are in sight. I remember wishing to literally die rather than take another step. Michael at this point is scolding me and really pushing me to my limit.

Suddenly, Stella Point is in view. It is only a few hundred feet away. "You made it Tayla, you did it!" Michael congratulates me. I still feel incapable of making it and it is arms reach away. I cry and hug my friends. We sit at Stella's Point, taking in the massive crater below. Mind-blowing. I feel high. Mind you, this is NOT the summit.

I was feeling gangster at Stella Point

One hour away resides the highest point in Africa. Uhuru Peak. I just need to keep going for 60 more minutes and everything I have been working for will be complete. I keep hearing the theme from "The Revenant" playing over and over again in my head. *please play this for the remainder of the article*

Summiting this mountain means more than just making it to the top. It means I am capable of summiting anything I put my mind too. Work, school, relationships. Anything is possible. The walk was easier than the prior seven hours of the hike but the mountain still seems to never end. Finally, I see the makeshift wooden sign sitting at the edge of the peak. I feel like I am running to it at full speed but I am actually going at a snails pace. Oh, my god. This is it. I finally arrive and throw my ski poles to the ground. I hug the closet person to me and thank Michael over and over again. I am at the top of Mount Kilimanjaro. We take photos and videos. I gawk at the glacier, the crater and the entire world sitting beneath me. Five days of no showers, outdoor bathroom breaks and endless trekking has finally lead me to this moment. I know myself now at my most fragile, but also at my strongest. I have learned the importance of friendship and trust. I have learned that nature never fails to surprise you, whether it be the stars in the sky or sun peaking through the clouds. The higher you go the better it gets. Keep climbing. Whenever you think you can't go on, you ALWAYS can. Take stock in the people around you, take advantage of your environment and remember that every step counts.