Day 5

Wednesday, February 28, 2007

My strategy today is to break up the hike to Kibo Camp in 2-hour increments. Teacher says that it’s a five-hour hike for most people, but at my pace it will be more like 7-8 hours.
Lisa surprises us all by announcing she isn’t going any further. She has had cerebral edema before and is starting to feel similar symptoms. I am worried about her. I know how much she wanted to get to the summit and she doesn’t like to leave a task unfinished. She says she is going to rest a little longer and then in a few hours begin the trip back down the mountain to Mandara Camp. Laura and I feel uncomfortable leaving her, but she assures us she will be fine once she gets to a lower altitude.

Joan McLoud, Ada Abalo, and Laura Garcia prepare to ascend to Kibo Camp on Mt. Kilimanjaro at Kilimanjaro National Park in Tanzania, Africa Wednesday, February 28, 2007. (photo by Tammy McKinley)

The clouds roll in as we prepare to ascend to Kibo Camp from Horombo Camp on Mt. Kilimanjaro at Kilimanjaro National Park in Tanzania, Africa Wednesday, February 28, 2007. (photo by Tammy McKinley)

Teacher directs one assistant guide to stay with her, two assistant guides to go on ahead with Laura, Ada and Joan, and Teacher stays with me. .
At about the two-hour mark, I see one of the porters coming up the mountain with my bright yellow duffle bag. All of a sudden it hits me. My magical moment on the mountain arrives with the porter. I have gone as far as I need to go. I stop dead in my tracks. I ask Teacher how long it will take me to reach Kibo Camp. He says about 6 hours. I ask how long to go to Mandara with Lisa. He says it will take us 5 hours. Although to get to Kibo Camp will only take me an hour longer, I feel like it would completely wrong of me to go any further. I firmly believe in not leaving a team member behind, much less my stepsister. Although I can’t fault the other women in my group for continuing on to the once in a lifetime opportunity to summit Mt. Kilimanjaro, I can’t leave her behind. It makes perfect sense that I should be the one to turn around and stay with her. The chances of me making the summit were less than the others and someone else needs me more than the summit does. I tell Teacher to turn the porter around. I am done.
As I descend to Horombo camp, the revelations keep coming. I realize, some people are summit people and some people are journey people. Summit people see a mountain top and say, “That’s where I want to be” and they make every effort to achieve their goal. Journey people see a mountain top and say, “I wonder what is on the way to that summit” and they savor the experience along the way. I am definitely a journey person.
Also, I realize that we create our own stress filled lives. Our culture so values the pursuit of material things, accolades, and competition that we sometimes lose sight of the important things in life. Family, health, sharing, and connecting with other people are important to me. And I also realize that where one may be weakest in one area, they can be the strongest in another. For example, I am physically the weakest in my group, but I have other strengths to offer in support. I realize that each and every team member has immense value in one or another area. I realize how important teamwork is whether it’s within a family, an office, or on the mountain. That everyone has strengths that they can bring to the whole unit and that their talents should be used accordingly.
I do not regret my decision to discontinue my climb up the mountain. I revel in it. It is likely the best decision I have ever made. I walk down the mountain feeling whole, complete, and strong. I found my summit halfway between Horombo Camp and Kibo Camp.
When I arrive at Horombo Camp, Lisa is sitting on the steps of the hut writing in her journal. She is ready to begin the descent to Mandara Camp. I take one last look at the peak from Horombo Camp and begin the hike down.
The trip down the mountain was good. I finally get an opportunity to see all the sights I missed while staring at my feet on the way up the mountain.

A red-hot poker rises from the landscape near Horombo Camp on Mt. Kilimanjaro at Kilimanjaro National Park in Tanzania, Africa Wednesday, February 28, 2007. (photo by Tammy McKinley)
A protea flower grows near the trail from Horombo Camp to Mandara Camp on Mt. Kilimanjaro at Kilimanjaro National Park in Tanzania, Africa Wednesday, February 28, 2007. (photo by Tammy McKinley)
A butterfly lights on a plant near the trail from Horombo Camp to Mandara Camp on Mt. Kilimanjaro at Kilimanjaro National Park in Tanzania, Africa Wednesday, February 28, 2007. (photo by Tammy McKinley)
Flowers grow near the trail from Horombo Camp to Mandara Camp on Mt. Kilimanjaro at Kilimanjaro National Park in Tanzania, Africa Wednesday, February 28, 2007. (photo by Tammy McKinley)

About the time we leave the moorlands the rain and hail starts up, this time with thunder. We are walking along the trail in the heather fields and the thunder and lighting are driving us faster to seek shelter. I think it’s the only time in the trip I walk as fast as everyone else. I ask Teacher if we should find shelter from the lightening. He says not to worry because the thunder is a friend to the people there. I tell him it may be a friend to the people of Kilimanjaro, but in America people are hit by lightening all the time. And here we are with metal walking sticks digging into the ground. We are walking lightening rods. But like most storms on Kilimanjaro, this one passes quickly and we make it safely to the tree line.

A storm moves in as Lisa Hepinstall walks the trail from Horombo Camp to Mandara Camp on Mt. Kilimanjaro at Kilimanjaro National Park in Tanzania, Africa Wednesday, February 28, 2007. (photo by Tammy McKinley)

Oddly enough, as we approach the tropical rain forest and the rain begins to let up, Lisa notices a white-necked raven hopping down the trail in front of us. It seems to be leading us back to the safety and comfort of the Mandara Camp.

The jungle closes in on the trail near Mandara Camp on Mt. Kilimanjaro at Kilimanjaro National Park in Tanzania, Africa Wednesday, February 28, 2007. (photo by Tammy McKinley)


As we walk back into the jungle, I can’t help but think about Teacher. I can tell he is disappointed that we didn’t summit. But his smile never wavers. “Hukana Matada”, he says. He is daunted by nothing. I know us giving up has lowered his success rate in the eyes of the expedition company we hired, but he never once mentions this. His only concern is to continue making sure we are strong, healthy and having a great time. I am amazed by his undying loyalty to us. He could have easily sent one of the assistant guides back down the mountain with us. But he followed us himself. He clearly understands that it is the role of the strongest to help the weakest. His strength and positive attitude has given Lisa and I the ability to continue when we think we are too broken to go any further. And his acceptance of our weaknesses is filled with compassion and good humor. He has certainly gone way above the call of duty for us. He has checked everyone’s vitals every night, including his own team. He briefs us twice a day as to what to expect, what to pack, where we will be going. He tells us the history of the mountain and about it’s geography. He knows the names of all the flora and fauna we ask about. He knows first aid and all the symptoms of the health dangers of climbing in high altitude. He has carried our daypacks, loaned us walking sticks and made sure everyone on the team is cared for. This man is deserves to admired and respected. He is a born leader.