Wonderlust

Buildup to the Summit Attempt

Consciousness percolates slowly at Barafu.  Roughly 15,000 feet above sea level, our group of 14 determined climbers will attempt our final assault on Kilimanjaro’s summit from this camp.  The name Barafu, meaning snow in Swahili, is a vestige of yesteryear.  The snows of Kilimanjaro haven’t touched this camp for 6-8 years, Shabani, the guide with a zillion megawatt smile, tells us.  Though the clear indication of proximity to the summit no longer exists, the tension between excitement and nerves has indeed for me reached its apex here. 

A fateful team decision placed us at this camp by the end of day 4 of our climb.  Our lead guide, Elia Kim, in equal measures talented and enigmatic, put two options in front of us.  The original plan had us heading to Karanga Valley on day 4, Barafu on Day 5, and summitting at midnight on day 6.  His proposed modification entailed significantly lengthening day 4 to reach Barafu in one fell swoop.  The prime benefit, he explained, would be to attempt a daytime summit on day 5, instead of one in the bitterer cold of night.  He reminded us that the modified option would require the longer day 4, however, and less acclimatization time overall.

In our mess tent, thoughtful discussion centered for a period on the pros and cons of this pivotal decision. Ultimately the well-earned trust in our outfitter Tusker Trails, and Elia Kim specifically, placed the decision back in his capable hands.  Our only real criterion, we reasoned, is success.  Given the specific characteristics of our group, he considered the chances of healthily summitting unquestionably better under the modified plan.  The decision was settled as the other of our two mess tents also judiciously deferred to Elia Kim’s expertise. 

It was no surprise to me that a well  reasoned consensus emerged naturally within the group, even as the product of two independent conclusions.  I have enjoyed the palpable cameraderie and friendship that has arisen over the last several days.  Though inevitable that I gravitate to spending more time with some individuals than others, I am impressed universally.

We have spent these days discussing books, movies, lives, side effects of the acclimatizing agent Diamox (frequent urination foremost), neuroplasticity, spirituality, entrepreneurship, sports gambling, Danny Boyle, Ernest Hemingway, Pedro Guerrero and Michael Jackson (one fellow climber offers: Musicians of the world, mourn; children of the world, rejoice), among myriad topics.  Throughout these conversations, I pondered, enjoyed, and laughed.

The diverse collection of the talented individuals I have met here is a credit to my friend Bill K.  I also credit him for the quality of the outfitter selected and for the overall seamless organization of this endeavor.  Motivated by a desire to eradicate a disease which impacted his life so profoundly, he established the nonprofit organization, Kili Climb for Cancer, more than two years prior. 

It is remarkable that he found enough time in his days for ALL that the effort required.  This he managed while helping to plan a beautiful wedding and get married, earning his MBA from a highly acclaimed program, becoming Healthcare Business Association president at his school, successfully conducting a job search, and whatever other bowling pins he decided to simultaneously juggle.

Having known Bill for over 11 years, I speculate that he will not feel all this effort has been a true success unless the majority summit healthily.  I agree.  So after all the gorgeous and the varied landscapes, the ridiculous and the enlightening conversations, the insomnia-riddled nights and the lost appetites, on the mountain, the true task therefore still lies ahead.

As my consciousness reaches a critical mass outbalancing drowse, I exclaim to my tent-mate big Mike B., It’s Summit Day!  I am excited.  I am also happy to be sharing the beginning of this momentous day with Mike.  You for sure wouldn’t guess the size of Mike’s heart if you couldn’t get past the tatts on his forearms.  Mike has been the ideal tent-mate.  As the most experienced and strongest mountain climber in our group he has offered useful tips.  As a man who puts others first he has eased my experience.  On this day, for example, my feet woke up nicely toasty because of the hand-warmers he placed in my sleeping bag.  They stayed warm because he brought my boots inside the tent.  He undertook these types of acts without any thought of recognition.  I doubt I have repaid these kindnesses in anyway but, just the same certainly, he shares my excitement for the day ahead.