A SLOW PERCOLATION OF CONSCIOUSNESS
Kilimanjaro Gold
Prashant Goel
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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, Eliakim, 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.
Pivotal Decision
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 Trail, and Eliakim 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 Eliakim’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 camaraderie 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.
Ridiculous & Enlightening
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 Tusker Trail, 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.
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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.
The Summit Attempt
Around the camp, our climbers wash up, eat breakfast, get medical checks, and prepare Camelbaks and daypacks. The only differences between this day and those immediately preceding it, in fact, are the slightly earlier start and the more tangible sense of excitement.
It bears mentioning that some mountaineers don’t think especially highly of Kili. To the extent, which the necessity of technical climbing accords a mountain greater respect in these hardcore circles, they have a well-founded point. Kili doesn’t require use of ropes, etc. In our group, however, you would not find one among us who does not see this as an eminently worthy challenge. The success rate for summitting Kilimanjaro, the .jpg?i=110109163218) highest point in Africa and the highest freestanding mountain in the world, is 40%.
POLE! POLE! (PO-lay, PO-lay) is a frequent battle cry as we begin this final ascent. Meaning slowly, slowly in Swahili, it is a reminder, essentially, that history better remembers the tortoise. Liberati, the guide setting the pace for today, surely believes the victory would have been even more pronounced had the race taken place on Kili.
At various points, disoriented stumbling climbers flanked and supported by porters make their way down past us. Some have reached the summit and are worse for the wear. Others have turned back before reaching their goal. Eliakim had warned that we would see this. He had advised us to ignore it. My mental toughness softens a little each time I witness it though. In my mind I question, the altitude does that?
Mensa Testing
I pit myself against the altitude periodically by recalling the 14 names in our group without looking. As mental prowess goes, it won’t earn me Mensa admission. It also can’t be mistaken for the NY Times crossword, or even for two pictures across which kids find 8 differences, but it is reassuring nevertheless every time I get to the 13th and 14th names.
Besides this feat of sheer mental dexterity, I focus entirely on my breath and my steps. The pointedness of my focus is meditative. My mind’s diminished capacity to wander is therefore at least convenient in this respect. In harmony with my breath, I have taken to rest stepping, extending the just placed leg completely with each step, to place weight on my skeleton rather than my muscles.
Slowly, slowly our team’s summit attempt takes shape. The glaciers are no longer off in the distance but nearby us. Conversation is limited to short exchanges of encouragement or requests for sun cream, Gatorade powder and the like. We are grateful for Tusker’s strength today as our four guides frequently check on each of us. The “Kili coke”, or powdered glucose, that they “push” proves an effective aid. Unless powdered sugar shows up on drug tests, I have no qualms in being a prolific user the likes of Tony Montana.
After a lunch break in which our team members have varied levels of success in consuming calories, we undertake the remaining, not insignificant steps towards Stella Point. Stella Point marks a major milestone at the end of a particularly steep stretch, only one hour from the summit. I sense the group’s resolve steel as we make way. The guides and porters buoy our spirits by bursting into catchy Swahili call and response songs. This gives the group the boost we need.
Celebration of the Journey
14 of 14 of us make it to Stella point. We celebrate our achievement with hugs and back slaps all around. We take time to recognize the long way we have come. It is a special moment. To our laughter, Eric P. comments to Ilia R. and me that this is a beautiful place; perhaps we would like to take some pictures? This thinly veiled reference reminds the three of us of the many pictures we encouraged Eric to take so that we could both lazily leave our cameras in our bags. I am surprised that Eric, dynamic and well versed across a remarkable range of topics, is even at this altitude able to exercise wit.
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I take another hit of Kili coke and “dance” (a nonrhythmic mild bobbing at best) to the porter’s songs. Within a brief period we shift our focus to the short distance, which remains rather than the long way we have come. Sadly, however, one teammate has bravely come as far as his body and lungs will allow. As he turns back, the remaining 13 make our way to the summit.
The celebration is more matter of fact at the summit than at Stella’s Point. There is picture taking and congratulations and some emotion. There is also a proposal! Eric and his great girlfriend, Victoria B., are engaged. They make a fantastic couple. I am happy for them.
As much of the group turns around to begin the descent, I remain at the summit with Ilia and a few others. Ilia, the youngest and only non-American in the group, joined the climb only after somewhat randomly discovering it on our fundraising website Fred’s Team. He then proceeded to lead the fundraising effort, in part by offering summit pictures of company flags to various businesses. This is representative of the creative, interesting, and easy way Ilia has about him. He consistently denied the porters requests to help carry his bag of flags to the summit. I am honored to help him take summit pictures with the flags.
With only a short passage of time thereafter, we found ourselves saying goodbye with a farewell dinner. Having faced and conquered this challenge together, united against cancer, a natural bond emerged among us. I fully expect that the individuals I met in this solid group will continue to ascend to ever-greater heights.
Follow Prashant's ongoing travel adventures at his blog, wonder-lust.com. (Photographs in this article were shot by Prashant.)
[PRINTER FRIENDLY VERSION]
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