Kilimanjaro

Darkness surrounds me, illuminated only by a few stars and the headlamp on my head.  One foot in front of the other, I plod on, gasping for breath, yearning for a rest. A distant airplane flies overhead, I wish I were on it, travelling to golden sands and relaxation. 6 hours to go. In 6 hours I will stand atop Kilimanjaro, Africa’s tallest mountain and the highest freestanding mountain in the world. Right now, I’m pretty sure my body is giving out and I shall lie on the slopes of Kilimanjaro for eternity, commemorated only by a stone marker and tales passed on to future tourists of the Canadian who died there. We pause to rest and eat a chocolate bar for energy.  We’ve been hiking for five days but today was the most extreme: 8 hours to base camp, four hours of sleep and then off again at midnight to reach Kilimanjaro’s summit by sunrise. Chocolate consumed, we are urged to continue, to go “slowly slowly”. Darkness surrounds us; I have no idea how much further we have to go. I put my head down and resolve to make it to the top. The first lights of dawn streak across the horizon in shades of red and orange. We are almost there. One foot in front of the other we plod on. Slowly slowly. We pass other weary travelers resting along the pathway. We trudge steadily forwards. The sun is rising, it is getting lighter.  We pass the once mighty glaciers and peer in to Kilimanjaro’s crater. One foot in front of the other, onwards onwards. And suddenly we are there: Uhuru Peak, 19341 feet above sea level. Exhilaration overtakes exhaustion.  Out come the cameras, click click click. We sign the guestbook “Yes! We made it!!” and triumphantly pose beside the congratulatory sign on the summit. We share gleeful hugs. The sun fully rises, bathing us, the intrepid traveler, with its light, shining on the glaciers and giving us an unparalleled view of Tanzania, of roads, farms, villages and the neighboring Mount Meru. An immense feeling of accomplishment and pride overtakes me. More hikers are arriving, it’s time to go.  Going down is easier than going up, my sister and I leap and run down the slopes to base camp, my parents descending a little more cautiously. It’s time for a rest, some watermelon and a warm cup of hot chocolate before our final descent off Kilimanjaro. Reaching Kilimanjaro’s summit is an accomplishment to be proud of and a trip to be remembered forever.