Day 4: Summit attempt

I began to hear shuffling around camp at 2.30am as the two other teams were getting ready - the sounds of endless zips, clips and sleeping bags being stuffed. I attempted to get more sleep but could not settle again. My alarm went off at 3am and I began layering up for the summit ahead. Alex had told me he wanted me to smother my toes, finger tips, nose and cheeks in vaseline as it provides extra insulation and protects from wind burn on your face. I laughed to myself at his surreal the situation was; in the middle of nowhere on a mountain in Kenya accompanied by complete strangers, methodically covering each toe with vaseline at 3am.

At 3.30am I drank tea and ate as many biscuits as I could force down. Alex advised, no milk is allowed in my tea as dairy and protein is hard to digest as we go towards 5000m and it would make me sick. At 4am we began the summit attempt. The night was warmer than I expected and I instantly had to adjust my layers having definitely dressed for about 10 degrees lower. The route was instantly steep and unforgiving, loose scree would slip beneath your feet as you tried to gain any momentum. Around 30 minutes into the climb I started to feel an all to familiar feeling of nausea and began my classic ritual of vomiting on the side of the trail. Alex was supportive, firstly asking if I had any other symptoms of which I didn't. He said "I see this a lot, it's just a digestion issue at this height - we need to just get the biscuits out your system and just use fluids for the climb." My body always rejects food at this height and Alex assured me this is not altitude sickness as its not accompanied by a headache, I just have a sensitive stomach. I vomited around 6 times, after each one Alex would praise me "great job", "wow that's a good one", "you are doing so well". The alternation between vomiting and being praised made me laugh internally, especially as the larger the volume I produced the higher the praise. He was right though, I felt so much better with an empty stomach and it made me think back to previous situations at altitude and that I'd always catastrophised vomiting into full blown altitude sickness rather than a digestion issue. Alex passed me my water and said to take small sips and if I feel sick again to ensure I force it to make sure all food is removed from my system. It seems counter productive as you need fuel to climb at this height, but I'd eaten enough to have reserves from the previous days and my body simply can't tolerate it at this height.

I felt significantly better after this, the nausea lifted and no other symptoms appeared. I followed Alex slowly and purposefully up the steep scree slopes, following the direction of headtorch lights of the two teams ahead. Alex ascended quietly, leaving me with my own thoughts and reliant on my internal motivations only. He would frequently, encourage me to drink and check if I was experiencing any symptoms. My breathing had settled into the rhythm of the mountain and the nausea alleviated so I happily could increase the pace. Hiking through the night is disorientating, darkness seems to stretch time and I had no concept of how long we'd been ascending. The breathing and the sound of purposeful footprints cut through the silence of the night.

After around 1.5 hours of climbing we reached a junction where we were to take our first rest. This was where teams heading up from the Chogoria route would join, but the mountain was quiet. Alex produced a flask and made me a cup of tea as I sat regaining my energy on a rock. He explained that we will ascend back to this point so guides leave their packs, as he pointed to the few abandoned rucksacks scattered near the rocks. The remaining route to the summit was entirely technical, a mix of scrambles and Via Ferrata cables and ladders. "I need you focused and stable so guides carry clients bags from here" Alex advised. I was feeling strong and although nervous as to what "technical" entailed I was feeling brave. There will be time for comfort, for the things I crave – my warm bed, clutching a mug of tea under a blanket, getting into my pyjamas at an unacceptable time, a bath. But right now it is time to dig in, to endure, to seek comfort in discomfort. To welcome the cold, the sharp rock, the ice, the inclines, the darkness and to embrace them to the best of my ability. To draw upon my past experiences, those that I claim have built strength and resilience. To put my character to the test and see what rewards I can reap.

The route was now lined with patches of snow with a glistening crust of ice over the rocks. We scrambled over the rocks slowly, Alex checking my every move and showing me where to put my hands and feet. It was a challenge in the dark but equally any potential exposure or drops offs were less visible in the dark and I merely focused on copying and following instructions. Some sections required big jumps to clear gaps in rocks which made my legs shake, but Alex pulled me over ensuring I was stable before letting go saying "I should lend you my long legs, free of charge!" After we cleared the scrambling section, the Via Ferrata commenced. A narrow ridge to edge yourself along gripping onto a cable bolted into the mountain for support. I stepped cautiously avoiding slippy patches of ice, gripping onto the cable with all my force. Despite undertaking these types of adventures, I struggle with heights and exposure. At this point the sunrise had begun and normally I'd welcome it, but it revealed the drop off below which elevated my heart rate. I began to trust the process and settle into it with the best off my ability and before I knew it I was on a flatted wider section of rock. A sign ahead read "highest Via Ferrata in the world" which made me feel elated with my bravery and persistence . Alex announced "Great work Amy, one more challenge to get the the summit", as he pointed ahead to a ladder with the rungs emerging from the rock. "You go up first and I'll be here if you need catching" he said, ushering my towards the ladder. I cautiously crept up and secured myself a reliable looking rock at the top. I scanned my surroundings. "What do you see Amy?" Alex called as he climbed the ladder. "The summit" I shouted back to him, "We did it!!" Up ahead was the summit post, standing at 4985m above sea level. I was ecstatic. "And guess what Amy?" Alex said, "It's only 6.30 - it took you 2 and a half hours so we timed it perfectly otherwise you would have been here an hour before sunrise freezing to death." As Alex cleared the ladder and we reached the summit post we burst into a chorus of “thank yous” and “congratulations” as I collapsed on a rock, in my usual overwhelmed state. Reaching a summit after a gruelling climb always bursts a dam of emotions that accumulate behind a scaffolding of purpose and desire. He placed his hand on my shoulder saying, "You are much stronger than you think, remember that!"

The Netherlands team and the Americans were taking photos and we congratulated each other. The horizon burst into flames as the sun rose and revealed the stunning landscape. It was surprisingly still and calm and for almost 5000m the cold did not creep through to my core. I gazed to the South where the mesmerising Kilimanjaro emerged from the distant plains, a mountain that challenged me, rewarded me and taught me valuable lessons. It’s remained tightly woven into my memories and I smiled as they flooded through my mind, knowing that my experiences on that climb had ultimately bought me here.

We began the descent. Achieving the summit had increased my confidence and self belief as I tackled the technical section more boldly with less hesitation. We returned to the junction where Alex had left his bag and he poured me another tea before we continued the descent. Here we descended via the Chogoria route, so I could witness different scenery for my remaining days. We chatted and relaxed into the easy descent, feeling happy that my initial dramatic vomiting didn't impeed me and I'd not suffered from any headaches or more serious altitude induced issues. I was impressed by Alex's guiding and how he timed the summit perfectly and knew to push me so I could reach my potential. I felt elated that the summit was already achieved and my apprehension was lifted. Within 2 hours from the summit we'd reached camp where as we were a day ahead, I could relax for the remainder of the day. It was only 9am and the day had already been far too eventful so I was happy for a safe tent bound day of reading and snoozing.

On arrival into camp I could hear and smell Edwin preparing food and Samson bounded out of the hut. It was a sunny morning so he laid a table cloth across some rocks and urged me to get comfortable, congratulating me on the summit. He delivered me the most elaborately arranged fruit platter so far, a mug of coca cola for sugar and electrolyte replacement, a mug of hot milk for cereal and a mug of tea. Announcing "You relax while I build your home!"

Following my breakfast, Samson gave me a hot water bottle for my nap and I climbed into the tent and fell easily asleep, catching up on the missed hours. It began to rain which made me feel even more cosy. After a few hours, a gentle tapping in tent and the sound of Samson and tent zips. "Amy I have your lunch, you take it in here it's too cold and wet outside" he said softly. This camp only had a small hut which served as a kitchen for porters so meals are taken in your tent. Samson produced multiple silver bowls covered in tin foil and a tray of everything I needed to make hot drinks. There was a bowl of fresh chips, freshly made coleslaw and hard boiled eggs. I ate as much as I could feeling satisfied and refuelled after the mornings event, confident my digestive system was no longer refusing to function. In the afternoon Alex took me for a walk around the nearby lakes and we met many rock hyraxes, cheekily darting across our path with cheeks full of grass.

Following dinner I fell instantly asleep knowing my goal was achieved and hoped for a safe descent in the coming days.