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The Roof of Africa - Mt. Kilimanjaro - Part 2 or 2

© Geoffrey G. Klein

...for several days, I matched wits with a mighty foe - Mt. Kilimanjaro. I had struggled to maintain my sense of purpose the higher I climbed. I was in poor shape both physically and mentally and my better judgment would likely have made me stop the trek upwards.

It must have been the onset of my altitude sickness that kept me from realizing I probably should not attempt the final ascent.

As the moonbeams lighted our final path up the great mountain I walked off into the harsh, cold wee hours, ascending to increasingly thinning air with decreasing ability to withstand these conditions.

My final stage of this journey was a slow, painstaking one. I used the rhythm of my guide, Rama to ascend very slowly toward the top of this mountain that for the last several days I considered my enemy. I would stop from time to time to catch my breath and to have a spot from my water bottle, which was slowly freezing in the frigid air. Rama would stop too. He was always patient, always just a few step behind me. He never spoke, and I had little energy for conversation, but knowing he was there, feeling his presence was just the comfort I really needed. I will never forget Rama or the contribution he was for me on that mountain.

After several hours, I found myself not knowing what was keeping me from continuing. Again, usually a sensible person I probably should have turned back. Instead, I found some strength in my delirium and keep going up. We all have that something deep down inside us, a small storage of courage. It is the type of courage that people throughout history have used in times of real crisis. It is the type of courage that turns ordinary people into heroes in times of incredible circumstances. I, however, was not a hero, and do not consider what I was doing then, nor now, brave. What creates a hero is using that courage when you have NO choice, when hope has been stripped from you by someone or something. I was merely stealing that tool that heroes use.

My struggle was self-imposed and my suffering was strangely self-indulgent. Yet, at the time the pain was real, the fatigue and mental strain was actually bearing down on my capabilities. Most people would agree what I did was foolish, including myself.