On top of the world, ah Africa

I was feeling nauseous and had a headache, although convinced it had nothing to do with my handstand on the top of Africa! I was also very disorientated and knew it. It was a strange disassociated feeling. I knew I should have been thinking more clearly but I just wasn’t and I was happy with that. A profound sense of accomplishment settled over me. We had made it.


Our pace up that hill had been fast, far from pole-pole. Even the guide was not himself and weaving on the path. It had taken less than 6 hours of walking to conquer the 1,300 meter climb and almost 5km in distance. Sounds poor when you consider I was walking 12km and climbing 1,000 meters up and down in just 2 hours at sea level. I cannot say it enough, altitude is the big leveler.


We took our photographs and then under the insistence of Aaron, headed for the exit, back down Stella Point. By now a number of other parties had started to appear on the top and the thin air aided some interesting conversations. We took a break at Stella Point for David to strap on his bionic knee brace. I lost about another 10 layers of clothing, finding innovative ways to attach them to the outside of my backpack, the inside having been long filled up! Some of my water was completely frozen. It must have been relatively cold up there for a moving liquid wrapped inside my warm clothing to freeze up!


Starting back down the mountain was a shock. I could not believe my eyes when I saw what I could not see in the night. The path up was a big patch of loose gravel up an incredibly steep slope. Lines of people were still struggling up this slope and we tried to give encouragement to all of them. Most of them looked exhausted! Perhaps we looked just the same to them.


What brought a tear to my eye was the number of older people at the top of the mountain. And by older, I mean 65 and upwards. This must have been tough for them and yet they had managed to do it. I was proud of my own achievement, but for them, this must have been very special. An almost confirmation of the fact that they still had lots to offer life. It was all very moving!


3 hours of work was what it took to get down the gravel slopes to our camp. The slope was relentless and we spent most of our time trying to sand ski, jump, and hop through the sliding gravel. For Dave the process was difficult, as he was trying to protect both knees and his back. But there was no stopping us, we were going home!


The clouds descended just moments before we got to our tent. We were happy to toss off our clothes and boots and climb into our sleeping bags for a good mid morning nap. We really tried hard to nap, but there was something about that site that would not let us sleep.

Our crew was happy to ‘wake’ us up and get on the move again. We were still left with a 7km hike straight down the mountain before the day was over. Certainly the hardest part of the walk so far. The slope was relentless and the end never seem to come. But it did and we were soon hunkered down for our last night on the mountain at Mweka camp.

And boy did we sleep!