Summit of Self: Conquering Kilimanjaro’s Heights

StartupnRise.com May 26, 2024 In Love With Nature Leave a comment 816 Views

Introduction

Meet Dr. Parul Kolhe: a dynamic dermatologist, avid marathoner, and intrepid explorer. With a passion for both medicine and adventure, she embodies the spirit of balancing professional excellence with personal pursuits. Whether she’s treating patients with care and expertise, conquering marathons on prestigious tracks worldwide, or delving into the depths of the ocean as a certified PADI Scuba diver, Dr. Kolhe embraces life’s diverse experiences with enthusiasm and determination. Here is an intresting narrative of her summit.

Dreaming of the Summit

There are milestone days in everyone’s lives—the day you graduate, the day you realize you are in love, the day you get married, the day you become a parent, the day you run your first marathon… the day you climb a mountain and stand on the top is right up there with all those milestone days.

I had dreamed about standing atop Africa on the summit of Mount Kilimanjaro. I had thought about it every minute of the six months I was training for it. I had visualized how triumphant, grand, and victorious it would feel. What I was not prepared for, however, when I was actually there on 7th March 2024, was how humbling it would feel. Standing on the roof of Africa, watching the continent spread out endlessly to the horizon, I only felt my ego, my pride, melt away into nothing. I cried—not tears of victory, but tears of humility as I marvelled at the vastness of nature and our puniness as humans who believe we can tame it.

Preparation and Departure

But wait, I should start a story not at its end, but at its beginning. The story of Kilimanjaro from 2nd to 9th March 2024, which began with 14 brave men and women who came together at Moshe, signed up under Retd Lt Col Romil Barathwal, trusting him to take us up the mountain. Fourteen rough diamonds, and one diamond to cut and polish them.

There were some in this intrepid little battalion who were seasoned soldiers—Bharani, who had attempted KY2; Sachin, Ritu, Rina, and Alpa, who had summited Friendship Peak; Deepak and Neeru, who were EBC graduates. The rest of us were trekkers with moderate experience, praying that our training was enough, our fitness was enough, that WE were enough to attempt this feat.

Embarking on the Expedition

We landed at Kilimanjaro airport and on the drive to the hotel, got our first view of the behemoth that we were to climb. I must admit that when I saw how HUGE Kilimanjaro was in reality after all the benign pics I had seen, my heart sank to my knees and I felt I’d bitten off more than I could chew.

Meeting everyone at the hotel, introductions, a meticulous gear check by sir, collecting our rental gear and complimentary B&C tees and Fleeces took up the whole evening. The next morning, we left our excess luggage in the hotel, clicked some pictures with the ebullient guides we were introduced to, and got on the bus shouting slogans that were to be our mantra in the days ahead—Thomas (Tom Tom) shouting “Teeeaaam..” and us screaming “Beeee Ceeeee”. Tom Tom shouting “All the wayyyyy…” and us completing “to the TOP”. Tom Tom saying “Kilimanjaaaarooo…” and us obediently replying, “Hakuna Matataaaaa’’ till our larynxes hurt!!! All was optimistic, all was cheerful, we all felt strong, capable, and confident.

We reached the park gates, filled in the registration forms, ate a huge packed lunch, and reveled in the atmosphere of teams from all over the world collected there. People were admiring the 3D model of the mountain with its geological history, taking pics in front of the huge posters, and gearing up to climb with hundreds of porters lined up for weigh-ins.

We started the first day’s trek—an easy one from Marangu gate to Mandara huts—a 3-4 hour trek ascending 1000 meters over 8 kms to reach 2700 m above msl at Mandara. The trail wound through picturesque Montane forests with tropical plants, lush greenery, and bubbling mountain streams. Dappled sunlight filtered through the dense overgrowth providing magical lighting as we enthusiastically climbed vines and wooden bridges for photographs. At Mandara, Romil sir was there to greet each member at the medallion-shaped milepost y to congratulate us on successfully completing the first stage. A group picture and advice to cover up as it was (surprisingly) chilly, and we were sent to our huts to rest and regroup for dinner.

Challenges Along the Trail

I was amazed at how cold it was at night just at 2700 mts and the steaming hot tea, popcorn, biscuits, and hot chocolate were just what we needed to get the chill out.

That’s when the first thunderbolt struck— one of the team member’s backpacks had not reached camp—it seemed to have been lost in transit. To her credit, Bharani did not bat an eyelid and Romil sir assured her that the bag would be found and brought up to camp the next morning.

The next morning we woke up early to a beautiful sunrise and a crisp morning, raring to go. However, there was more misfortune—another strong trekker, Ritu, was hit by loose motions and vomiting and was in bad shape. Bharani’s bag was still missing. There was a long day ahead with an 11km trek up to Horombo Huts at 3700 amsl—another 1000 meter ascent over 8 hours. The vegetation changed gradually as we ascended from forest to moorland with Giant grasses and heather. The weather played games with us, fluctuating from bright sun beating down on our heads to pelting torrential rain showers and then back to bright sunlight just as soon as we’d get our ponchos on. We took a long lunch break which was welcome as many were beginning to feel tired by the incessant climbing and the porters amazed us by laying out a tablecloth and serving us a hot feast in the middle of nowhere.

Our group reached Horombo in bits and bobs amidst rain showers. We got together for dinner and all of us unanimously discussed what a heroic effort Ritu had made to keep going slowly or ‘Pole Pole’ as the guides never tired of saying, in spite of her diarrhea and vomiting. Most agreed that by now we, in her place, would’ve chickened out.

Likewise, about Bharani whose bag was still awol and didn’t seem likely it would be found. It was Romil sir’s endless encouragement that kept Ritu going and his assurance to Bharani that he’d get together whatever summit gear she needed for the final day that kept her smiling!

We spent 2 nights in Horombo, going for a short acclimatization walk post dinner on the first day and an acclimatization walk up to Zebra rocks on the next day. The second acclimatization walk was light-hearted and fun-filled because we knew we had just a short half-day walk up to the black and white striped eponymous Zebra Rocks and back to rest and recharge our batteries and pack for summit push.

We buddied up that night to fit 2 people’s summit gear in one backpack to be taken ahead to summit camp, and other non-essentials in the second person’s pack to be left behind at Horombo. Next morning (day 4 of the trek) we left for Kibo—summit camp. It felt like we were walking through another part of the globe—from grasslands until Horombo, the vegetation changed to bleak alpine desert—scattered thorny bushes, tufts of scruffy grass, no trees, and barren lands with icy winds. An 8-hour trek through this brought us to Kibo. 4720m amsl where we had a mere 4 hours to rest (not sleep).

The most senior member of our group—Sanjai sir was having difficulties with his hearing aids and managing his blood sugar, Ritu was barely getting steady on her feet and Bharani was putting together a motley collection of borrowed layers for summit night. Some were experiencing the tentacles of altitude sickness already creeping up. We were all carrying the burden of the cumulative fatigue of the last 3 days and the anxiety of what was to come in the night ahead—smiles were few and we all spoke in worried whispers.

Facing the Challenges

Romil sir debriefed us before the start, expressing his faith in us that we were all capable of Summiting and injecting a dose of adrenaline with his words “Pain is temporary, Pride is forever”. We lined up and set off in 2 groups—a 10:30 exit and an 11:30 pm exit batch. The weather gods were kind and we had a clear starlit night with a ruddy moon and the Milky Way visible. The guides in their infinite wisdom kept reining us back, constantly reminding us to go ‘Pole Pole’. In fact, they sounded a bit ominous when they said “Madam – Kili is Chameleon- she change color so fast, stay sloooww”. The darkness was so intense, it felt like a physical weight on our shoulders, pierced feebly by our puny headlamps, the winds blowing in from all directions (it’s a free-standing mountain after all) threatened to destabilize us, all I remember hearing in the intervals of stillness was the crunch of gravel underfoot and the sound of people retching and heaving as altitude created nausea.

The guides kept our spirits up with climbing songs and forcing hot herbal tea down our throats. The headlamps of the groups of climbers above us looked like haunting strings of fairy lights bobbing along, floating up through the black miasma—teasing and taunting us, the end seemed nowhere in sight. I think I had lost track of time when Sachin behind me yelled – “Parul – Look – Sunrise !!!” . I was climbing up the last huge rocks to Gilman point and I suddenly saw the dark shapes in front of me blush a beautiful pink. I turned around to see dark tortuous spiral columns of clouds on the horizon being thrown into visibility by a magical liquid gold bubbling and spreading out like magma—and I realized it was the Sun. The dawn suddenly made everything visible and I could see Africa—in all its vastness, stretching out in every direction, endless from horizon to horizon—glorious, wild, untamed, magnificent.

A Test of Perseverance

Reaching Gilman point felt like crossing a finish line, but Romil sir was already there to welcome us and shoo us on towards Uhuru, lest our resolve weaken and we turn around and go back.

The view of the expansive snow-covered crater was something we never expected… it was ten times bigger than I had imagined it, and with its fresh dusting of snow, it was hypnotically beautiful and daunting at the same time. I couldn’t help wondering if someone slipped off the rim into the snow-filled cauldron, would the body even be found (morbid – yeah). Walking through waist-high snow banks towards Stella, I encountered my nemesis of the trip—I got hit by altitude—suddenly—like a freakin’ ton of bricks. It felt like crossing the road and being whacked by a truck—one second I was walking towards Stella point full of resolve and grit, the next second I was down flat on the ground with my heart threatening to explode out of my chest and not a single muscle obeying my brain’s commands. I told the guide with us to contact Romil sir, convinced I couldn’t walk a step more.

After a bit, I turned back to return to Gilman, that’s when I came across Romil sir walking towards me. He had by now been up and down the mountain umpteen times, dragging up the last climbers of the group until each and every one reached Gilman and started them towards Uhuru. The sight of his effortlessly smiling face and casual “kya hua madam ? “ made me feel 50% better already. The rest he accomplished by reminding me that I had come so far and was so near to the target, and if I turned back now, God knows when I would be able to attempt this again. He said “Pain is temporary, Regret is forever“ and that just hit different. I resolved there to make it to Uhuru even if I was shuffling 6 inches at a time and feeling like I’d drop dead with each step.

The Ultimate Victory

Well, long story short, it turned out that sir had used ‘saam- daam- dand- bhed‘ all tactics in his repertoire to finally get each and every one of us to Uhuru. An unbelievable 100% summit for the team and a safe return to Kibo. Afterwards when all of us were discussing timelines and when and where we were in trouble and Romil sir appeared like a magic genie – I SWEAR it seemed there were moments when he seemed to be in 2 places at the same time – God Knows how he managed it, he must’ve been sprinting up and down the mountain, but whenever a team member needed him, he was there.

Coming down the mountain, scree-surfing was its own challenge and at Kibo when we thought it was over, we were literally whacked to pick up our bags and keep going down to Horombo to a lower altitude. By the time we reached Horombo late at night, we had been on our feet for approximately 36 hours—more sleep, too exhausted to understand the enormity of what we had accomplished. It was finally on the last day’s trek down to the Marangu gate and the celebratory dance with the guides there, the bus ride to the hotel and later that night at the certificate and medal presentation that we all fully wrapped our minds around the Herculean task we had completed. Needless to say most of us had teary eyes as we thanked Romil sir and the invincible team of porters and guides who made our success their mission and helped us fulfill our dream.

Reflecting on the Journey

Would I dare say the journey was more rewarding than its destination? Yes, because doubtless achieving summit success was a taste of heaven, but in the days following that jubilation I slowly realized that the lessons learned on the way—about teamwork, about how Romil sir took the strands of our individual strengths and wove them into a tight-knit team fabric that helped us beat the odds, about never giving up & having a ‘never say die’ attitude, about focusing on the positive always, about having faith, discipline and perseverance—these were the real takeaway from the experience.

The experience recalibrated our priorities and put life into a new perspective.

As the certificate said, “When everything else seems like a struggle, remember this.”