I landed at Kilimanjaro International Airport in Tanzania on the evening of May 26 in a torrential downpour. I was quick to learn the rainy season had started late this season so the weather could remain wet for the next few weeks. Not what I was hoping for on my first expedition to Africa, and certainly not what I was used to when undertaking adventures around the globe. My first love is for cold environments – ones that make your teeth chatter, your bones brittle, and make you doubt why you’re lying in a tent high on a mountainside with a furious snowstorm outside instead of on a beach with your hands wrapped around a margarita. I chose to come to Tanzania for three reasons: To create more public awareness of global warming and the disintegration of Kilimanjaro’s icecap; to work in partnership with World Wildlife Fund (WWF) – Tanzania to help promote their environmental education program and cultural tourism projects; and to beat the five-hour, thirty-six-minute, thirty-eight-second world-record ascent of Kilimanjaro held by Austrian Christian Stangl.
The first stage of my expedition was an eight-day acclimatization hike up Kilimanjaro by way of the Umbwe Route. Only about half of all trekkers who take on the challenge of climbing to the roof of Africa actually reach the summit. My goal was to build stamina and increase red-blood cell production by training at altitude every day. I spent each day hiking to the next camp and going on training runs. I exercised and slept for two nights close to the summit at Crater Camp, which is less than a thousand feet below Kilimanjaro’s 19,340-ft (5895m) summit, Uhuru Peak. Afternoons consisted of hourly laps around the Reusch Crater, located at 18,500 feet, and early mornings jumping rope on the summit. The crater is named for Dr. Richard Reusch, a missionary who explored much of Kilimanjaro in the earlier part of the 20th century and initially discovered a now-infamous frozen leopard near the mountain summit (immortalized by Ernest Hemingway in his book The Snows of Kilimanjaro). From that altitude, the morning sun’s illumination of an orange plume across the sky awarded me unobstructed views for hundreds of miles. Upon completion of my acclimatization period, I descended via the Mweka Route back to civilization where I rested, meditated, hydrated, and carbo-loaded for two days in preparation for the speed ascent.
The morning of the ascent greeted me again with rain, as had been customary the past few weeks in the lower valley. I arrived to a deserted Marangu Park Gate Headquarters with a certified Tanzanian guide and spotter, Benjamin. Apparently no one else seemed too anxious to begin his or her trek in such inclement weather. Finally, our park ranger arrived and confirmed us in, and by the time Benjamin and I synchronized our stopwatches, the rain had turned into heavy showers.
This speed ascent would require me to run through five different climate zones and ecosystems ranging from equatorial to arctic conditions. In five-and-a-half hours, I would encounter rainforest, heath, moorlands, alpine desert, and arctic environments. Every 3,000 feet the zones would change, decreasing the temperature and affecting the terrain, weather, and vegetation. I would need to run up 13,000 vertical feet to reach the summit in temperatures that averaged 85 to 0 degrees F. The natural canopy sheltered me from the rain for the first half hour as I made my way to the opening checkpoint at the Mandara Huts. I frantically ran to the park ranger hut and signed in.
I was soon deep in the white powder of clouds as I entered the heath ecosystem. Although vision on the trail deteriorated to twenty-five yards, I felt wonderful running at a fast click and was constantly yelling, “Sogeza tafadhali (Move please)!” to oncoming porters, trekkers, and their guides.
When I reached Horombo Hut at 12,300 feet in the moorland ecosystem, the effects of altitude were still not bothering me, and I was certain that I had trained well for my challenge. The first signs of wear and tear occurred in the saddle between the Mawenzi peaks and Kibo Hut. I was now in an alpine desert environment and the winds were becoming brutal, causing sand to swirl and kick up in my face as I ran. With the temperature dropping, I became chilled and decided to run/walk while I grabbed a layer of clothing and something to eat and drink from my rucksack. I brought only ultra-light shell pants and an RBH Designs VaprThrm™ jacket for additional warmth. Keeping my core warm was imperative, and the featherweight jacket worked its magic.
Feeling energized and toasty from food, hydration, and the extra layer, I switched back to running and arrived at Kibo Hut back on schedule. I knew the toughest part of the ascent was just ahead. From Kibo Hut, at 15,500 feet, to the crater rim was a series of switchbacks that had a history of consistently demoralizing trekkers on summit bids. I knew this would be the toughest part of the ascent because the loose stone scree made it seem as if you were running in quicksand. I stayed on the switchbacks and made good time.
When I arrived at Gillman’s Point at the edge of the crater, my time was just over five hours. I knew in order to beat Stangl’s record I would need to keep running along the ridge to the summit. Viewing the summit across the crater ridge energized me, and I actually started to smile. I waved back at Kibo Hut to the ranger, dropped my pack, and began to sprint as fast as I could muster. I was now repeating my mantra out loud, “No stopping, no stopping … run faster, run faster!”
The miniature spikes attached to the soles of my shoes bit hard into the snow, and the sign got closer and closer. Soon Uhuru Peak, the summit 1 had spent so much energy training for, was mine, and I grasped at the marker wildly before stopping my watches. Five hours, twenty-eight minutes, and forty-eight seconds. I waved my arms for all to see near Crater Camp and immediately keeled over and threw up. I wasn’t feeling too celebratory until I sat down on a rock and looked out over the clear sky. I began to laugh and cry at the same time. I had done it! The daily five-hour training workouts, mind-cleansing meditation, and endurance preparation had paid off in emotional diamonds.
I sat at Uhuru Peak for nearly an hour enjoying the views and serenity only a summit could provide. I finally mustered the strength to stand up and start down, but my quadriceps had frozen and my legs collapsed from under me. After some time massaging my legs, I managed to descend the crater ridge toward Kibo Hut.
When I arrived in camp all the Tanzanian porters came out of their huts, lined up, and stared at me as I walked into the Park Ranger’s quarters. Benjamin was waiting and gave me a congratulatory hug and smile. The park ranger on staff gave me thumbs up and exclaimed, “You are a very strong man!” The display of admiration by the Tanzanian porters and guides is what has meant the most to me. I was honored and thankful for their respect.
After I returned to the hotel, an abundance of wine bottles was passed around in celebration, and I was relieved the ascent was finally over. Kilimanjaro truly is one of the most unique and beautiful mountains on Earth, and climbing it had left such a powerful impression on me. I spoke with the owner of the company outfitter I was using about possibly teaming together to lead clients up Kilimanjaro. “Wonderful Sean! Yes! People need to see the icecap before it’s gone!” the owner exclaimed.
The owner’s remark stunned me back to reality. The Tanzanians who climbed and made a living from Kilimanjaro knew the reality of global warming better than anyone. The icecap is going to disappear, and it is only a matter of time. The approach being taken by the government of Tanzania and its parks and education system is admirable, but not enough. I am quite embarrassed by my own current government’s lack of implementation and support of environmental programs and policies both domestic and abroad. Global warming, environmental degradation of over-fished oceans, and habitat destructions are just a few warnings that we need to initiate more conservation efforts to undo the damage that has already been done. Can we become active in preservation earlier in life like various schoolchildren are doing in Tanzania, or will we close our eyes to the habits we have learned and not react until it is too late?