Per Aspera Ad Astra | 2.21.21

Personal

Feb 20

Written By Nina Lily

21 February 2021

Barafu Camp to Summit

Elevation (ft) 15,300ft to 19,341ft

Distance 3 mi

Hiking Time 6 hours ascent/5 hours descent

Habitat Alpine Desert

Very late in the eventing / early in the morning (11pm - 8am), we continue our way to the summit between the Rebmann and Ratzel glaciers. You head in a northwesterly direction and ascend through heavy scree towards Stella Point on the crater rim. This is the most mentally and physically challenging portion of the trek. At Stella Point (18,600 ft), you will stop for a short rest and will be rewarded with the most magnificent sunrise you are ever likely to see (weather permitting). From Stella Point, you may encounter snow all the way on your 1-hour ascent to the summit. At Uhuru Peak, you have reached the highest point on Mount Kilimanjaro and the continent of Africa. *c/o Embark Exploration, Co.

©ColinMurray | Sunrise near Stella Point (18,600 ft) — ©ColinMurray | *Sunrise near Stella Point (18,600 ft)*

Breathe for me tonight.

Hold my hand in this darkness.

Still so far to go.

There was a charge in the air as I exited my tent for the last time on this side of before. Somewhere below, a thunderstorm lights up the landscape and here, the flurries have morphed into more. I am dazzled by the juxtaposition and my mind jumps to THAT night on the Appalachian Trail when I was reminded of the insignificance of it all. There is nowhere to go but up and I’ve been here before and perhaps again but THIS moment I have chosen. This grief journey belongs to me. I take my place on the mountain and begin.

I am made of stardust tonight.

I am brave.

I am strong.

I am loved.

I will repeat this mantra many times through the night. Head bowed to the wind and weather.

As the snow swirls in front of my headlamp, my world has shrunk to the size of the beam of light. I have been given just enough of the mountain to stay present. To focus on one foot in front of the other and nothing more. Darkness embraces me as I begin to climb and I am thankful for it.

This feeling of overwhelm and calm has a deeply rooted knowing. I trust. I trust my guides, I trust this decision, I trust the universe, I trust myself. I feel the feet of those who have walked before me and I am reminded of my Mother’s hands on my back as Peter transitioned. The decision to be here, in this moment, on this mountain was set in motion by tragedy and grief and strength and love.

I heard Kili calling and she was in me all along.

And I don't know what I am doing here. I’ve forgotten my name. My insignificance cloaked by this darkness, this storm, these winds, my looping thoughts. I struggle to breath and question my motivation. This night is so cold.

I steal a glance up, searching for a horizon in the darkness. Thoughts are difficult now. I realize that the lights I am chasing tonight are nothing more (and so much more) than headlamps and other hikers dreams. My stars wait above… still so far… hours left to go.

Our path is buried in the snow and still our guides lead us up switchback after switchback. Time is not linear… like this journey, like our path. It is harder now to tell which direction I am going and I know that all i have to do is walk. Small movements forward. If I stop, I die.

And the realization hits that I am closer to the summit than I am to the pain. My only salvation is up. Every storm must pass. I am climbing towards the sunrise and the hope that the dawn will bring clarity, warmth and renewal.

Peter is with me. I am ready for this new life.