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When Gaspar finished his preparatory work obtaining the necessary permits, he and I walked through the Machame Gate and five hours later finished our first day’s trek to the Machame Camp.
Sa, October 12 – After First Night’s Sleep
I didn’t sleep very well that first night because there was a continuous light rain and my tent was situated under a tree with large leaves that would pool the rainwater until the leaf would bend and release the rainwater with a loud splash on my tent. I felt like I was sleeping inside a snare drum. When the morning rolled around, I dined on a breakfast consisting of all-I-could-eat porridge, an egg-wash covered grilled bread that resembled French toast without syrup or butter, a breakfast snack bar and plenty of hot water for tea or instant coffee. After breakfast, I was briefed on the day’s trek and shortly after broke camp at the Machame Campground and headed out for a day’s hike to the Shira Camp, about 6 hours away.
Today’s trek ascended approximately 3,000 feet in elevation and the environmental change from rainforest to moorland occurred fairly rapidly – large trees surrounded by thick vegetation (there were ferns that I could stand under!) gave way to a rocky grassland landscape dotted by smaller wind-swept trees.
Throughout today’s hike I thought about the kinds of athletic and other extracurricular activities we offer at Overbrook and how they compare to mountaineering. Mountain climbing isn’t considered a team sport like goal ball, cheerleading, swimming or track, but there are similarities, nonetheless. The first similarity is that you don’t need to participate in extracurricular athletics – or mountaineering -- to be a successful person. There are plenty of people in this world who never participated in after-school sports who have lived triumphant lives having never participated in sports. But there are wonderful lessons that can be reinforced through participating on team sports. The short-term goals are typically related to the pursuit of winning the effort and commitment necessary to achieve victory. The long-term goal – the most important goal – is for students to learn how to perform their best under stressful conditions. “Emotion fuels the battle, but composure wins the war” – and maintaining focus and composure during athletic competition is a great training ground. That’s a lesson that you can carry with you long after you no longer participate in wrestling or cheerleading.
As I kept putting one foot in front of the other, knowing I was a full three days of trekking away from even approaching the summit, I hoped each of you have the opportunity to participate in athletic competition.
Su, October 13 – Slept in Wet Clothes
It rained off and on yesterday, but the trekking wasn’t too problematic other than one small section where we had to “scramble” around mountain face that breached one end of a clear hiking trail to the other. The difference between hiking and “scrambling” is the number of arms and legs you use: hiking only requires your legs to walk; scrambling requires both arms and legs to move from one point to another. Scrambling involves gripping rock points and crevices in a rock wall while your finding footholds with your legs. It may surprise you, but typically one or two porters die on Kilimanjaro while transporting gear, typically in sections that require scrambling.
By comparison, today’s trek felt awful. I knew based on Gaspar’s morning briefing that today’s hike was considered an “acclimation hike” in which we would “climb high and sleep low”, meaning that we would ascend steadily for the morning and part of the afternoon and then descend for the final few hours in the afternoon. Without carefully planned hikes to aid in “acclimation”, climbers can be debilitated by altitude sickness, which if untreated can become a very dangerous medical condition. I sensed that it was going to be a difficult day, but I had no idea how much the weather would increase the difficulty.
About two hours into the hike, in what is otherwise considered “semi-desert” habitat, the weather turned from chilly to freezing rain and blowing sleet. Even the most rainproof clothing was unable to protect against the elements. My waterproof boots began filling with water as did everything else. At the highest point of today’s trek, which normally is met with great relief in recognition of a long descent, the worst of the trek began, as I spent the remaining hours walking on a path that had become a run-off creek of bone-chilling water.
And I wanted to quit. And I was angry that trekking in October required far greater endurance than trekking in August. And I felt weak, knowing yesterday I had felt so confident that I could “remain composed” under harsh conditions.
I realized I needed a positive behavior plan. Some of our students have positive behavior support plans – and I needed to develop one for myself here in this moment. I was functioning okay on the outside, but I was giving up on the inside and it was only a matter of time before it began to show. I couldn’t control the weather, so I had to figure out a way to control my attitude and behavior. Gaspar turned to me at
one point and, after surveying my water-logged apparel, asked, “Do you feel stronger than five buffaloes?” In a deadpan voice, I answered: “I feel just slightly stronger than one dead buffalo.” “Just trust me,” he replied. I managed a grin and said, “I will trust my Guide”, in as confident a voice as I could muster.
A few hours later, I ducked into my tent at the Barranco Camp, at an elevation of 13,000 ft.
Being a student can be tough. There are days that might start fine but for whatever reason can feel like awful, no good, rotten days. You endure many pressures. And you might feel like you’re starting to give up on the inside because of whatever frustration you’re facing. But there are people at Overbrook to help you – your teachers, therapists, teacher aides, school psychologist and many others. I hope you always feel that you can trust your Guides.
M, October 14 – Cloud 9
Because all my clothes were wet, I dressed it the clothes I’d start out in the next morning and crawled into my sleeping bag hoping they’d dry on my body by the time the morning sun arrived. It turns out the morning sun indeed showed itself for a few hours and a slight breeze picked up as well. The porters knew to take advantage of the conditions and spread everyone’s wet clothes over the top of the tents. Direct sunlight, coupled with the mild wind, dried most of the wet clothes in a not much more than an hour. I was amazed.
Gaspar and I scrambled up the Barranco Wall for the first couple of hours and continued onto the Karanga Camp, arriving about three hours later. After getting over the Wall, the hike seemed very manageable, in large part because the day’s trek was another acclimation effort in which we hiked high and slept low, at about the same elevation as the Barranco Camp.
The view at the Camp was unforgettable. Around dusk the clouds formed around the mountainside seemingly close to Camp and the view toward the valley was obscured by the top of a cloud bank. Being above cloud-line, it felt like I was literally sleeping on Cloud 9. And I was thankful for the reprieve in the weather. What a difference a day makes.
Tu, October 15 – Base Camp
The couple of times I woke up in the middle of the night wasn’t so off-putting, considering I had a pretty majestic view of a starry sky in which everything seemed bigger, as if I was looking at the sky through a telescope. The stars seemed brighter and the constellations seemed larger, as if you could reach up and touch them.
We departed Karanga Camp and headed out for Base Camp early in the morning. And today’s hike was markedly more difficult than the previous days’ hikes, not because of weather, but because of breathing difficulties. The air was getting thinner with each step and my lungs were straining more and more to supply enough oxygen to my muscles. The day’s hike took us from 13,100 ft to 15,300 ft of elevation, which is almost a thousand feet higher than the highest point in the continental United States (the highest point I’d ever climbed). I felt every breath. We arrived at the Barafu Camp at about 2:30p, greeted a sign that more or less says that the summit climb doesn’t get any easier and anyone who’s experiencing breathing problems should descend immediately. My inclination was simply to take a deep breath, but I couldn’t.
Gaspar briefed me on the next steps we’d take, both literally and figuratively. After a late lunch, I’d head into the tent and try to nap as much as possible until being awoke at 11p later that night to begin a night
ascent to the summit, with the hope of summiting around dawn. Freezing temperatures will mark the entire ascent.
I listened quietly, dwelling on how exhausted I felt though today’s trek wasn’t nearly as long as the previous days’ individual hikes. I didn’t think it bode well for a successful summit climb. Fear and loathing began to creep in. In my mind, I kept seeing the sign encouraging descent. Recognizing my contemplation from the many times he’s guided people up Kilimanjaro, Gaspar said simply, “Don’t think too much.” Gaspar retreated to his tent and I retreated to mine, where I tossed and turned until 11p.
W, October 16 – Summit
You might be ready for this moment believing the culminating event of this journal is contained in the next few paragraphs. And in several ways, it is. I summited at 6:10a on October 16 Tanzanian time, which constituted 11:10p Eastern Daylight Time (Overbrook time) on National White Cane Safety Day (October 15). It was hard. I felt like stopping several times and several times I had to rest but not long each time, because of the freezing temperatures. In spite of it all, I pulled out the OSB magnet from my backpack and held it up to the Uhuru Peak sign that marks the summit of 19,345 ft of elevation.
The thrill of the day wasn’t contained in few fleeting moments of standing on the summit dawn, but the continual reflection of how inspired I was knowing that over 7500 miles away Overbrook students were showing Philadelphia and the world the power of good mobility instruction. More than just inspiring someone to keep putting one foot in front of another on a mountainside, you’re able to shock the world in big and small ways, each and every day. Many more people can imagine climbing Kilimanjaro (and they have) than can imagine crossing a street in Center City without normal vision.
Even more so, as I grow older I’m more convinced that the greatest satisfactions are never contained in personal achievement, but rather the positive impact you’ve had on others. As much as I’m interested in your individual achievement, I’m never more proud of you than when I see you encourage your friends who may be struggling and helping others overcome their own hurdles. Thank you – I’m continually inspired by you.
Th, October 17 – Rainy Walk to the Final Gate
The afternoon of the 16th was spent descending a little less than 10, 000 ft to the Mweka Camp. After collapsing in my sleeping bag, I woke up after a night of continual rain to find long, thin worms covering the outside of tent as well as a few dozen that had found a way inside my tent. “I’m officially ready to go home,” I thought.
Three hours after continuous hiking in pouring down rain, Gaspar and I arrived at the Mweka Park Gate and boarded a van back to the town of Moshi. Knowing that much of what Gaspar had brought on the climb was donated by clients previously, I passed along to him my cold weather boots that I had used for the summit day, given that he had a lighter pair that were no match for the cold summit temperatures. I had written “OSB” on the back of the left boot and “Rocks” on the back of the right boot. As I handed him my boots before saying goodbye, I had him promise that if anyone asked “What’s OSB Rocks mean?” he’d tell them – enthusiastically – that it was the best school for the blind in the world, and “…it’s 7,500 miles that way!”
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