Climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro with Jennifer

Intellectually I knew it wasn't going to be a walk in the park. I mean, who climbs Mt. Kilimanjaro (Africa's tallest mountain at 19, 340 feet, as well as the tallest free standing mountain in the world) and expects it to be easy? What I've often found, however, is that we can sometimes lose touch with the reality of how long something takes during any struggle.

How often, for instance, do we pick up a book about someone's fight to overcome an illness or determination to walk after an accident and we're moved at their heroism or tenacity? We read about their struggles in three or four hours, while in real time it might have been a five-year process.

My point is simply that one of the challenges we face when setting out to accomplish something is the often slow and tedious plodding along, the boredom that most of us can't really imagine, as we intellectually prepare.
 

When I started researching and preparing for my climb I heard how cold the nights could be, and how hard it would be to breathe as I got up past 19,000 feet. As I began my journey up the mountain in August I was as prepared mentally and physically as I could be. I had spent almost every weekend hiking at altitude; I was working out every day and studying every facet of the climb. I thought I knew everything I needed to keep me safe and make it to the top. Boy was I wrong.

It was the second night, we were still at fairly low altitudes and I was already struggling with the cold; liquid was freezing inside the tent and it took three or four layers of clothing inside my ten degree minus sleeping bag in order to keep me warm. Let me stop here a second to say I don't even like air conditioning in the summer; I never keep a room under 75 degrees. Therefore, adapting to continuous cold turned out to be a constant struggle.

I found myself grumbling about the cold and the long nights. We went to our tents around 7:30 each evening and didn't emerge until 7:00 the next morning; there was literally nothing to do but lie in our sleeping bags, since even the act of reading was far too uncomfortable due to the cold.

About day three I realized I needed to change my attitude, since I had several days to go and concentrating on the negative wasn't going to be very conducive to my success. I had been so busy focusing on the cold and the discomfort that I was managing to make myself quite agitated. And the more I worried about other things like whether I would really be able to make it to the summit, the more I started to doubt myself.

Mountains can be wonderful teachers, and the lessons I learned as I got nearer and nearer the summit will stay with me long after the memories of magnificent vistas and terrifying drop-offs have lost their clarity.

Here is what I took away from my journey:

1. In achieving one's goals, it's really important to be flexible. Early on I decided to quit complaining, to see what I could appreciate about the circumstances and learn to adapt. For instance, I developed a system for when nature called in the middle of the night and I had to leave the relative warmth of my sleeping bag. I learned how to position my headlamp so that I could grab it quickly, how to take layers off and on in a hurry, and how to get the tent flap opened and closed in five seconds flat.

2. Focus on what's working, not what isn't, not what still has to be accomplished. When I started looking at how many miles I was completing every day instead of what was left to do, I could start feeling a sense of accomplishment.

3. Stay in the moment; don't project fear of what could happen. At first I worried about how much colder it could get, whether the altitude would make me ill, and all the possible dragons I might have to slay as we climbed. Projecting all these fears made me anxious and didn't put my mind where it needed to be in order to climb with confidence. Instead, I started seeing myself always handling the elevation well and staying excited about the climb. I was conditioning myself for success.

4. Pat yourself on the back all the way up your mountain; this will encourage you to keep on climbing. So often we fall short of our goals and feel nothing but self-contempt or an alarming lack of self-confidence. I am terrified of height and had to negotiate an almost vertical 2500-foot rock wall without ropes. After I reached 18, 500 feet, I was too frightened to look down, and managed to keep my cool and survive the part of the climb where others had fallen, sometimes to their death. Reminding myself of that accomplishment continually helps me take on other risks.
 

5. Check to see what worked, and what you can apply to other goals. Getting to the summit of Mount Kilimanjaro was an experience of a lifetime. After the euphoria of finally reaching the summit, and realizing I was standing on ground higher than I've often been on a plane, and without oxygen, I looked to see what I could learn, what could have been improved, and how I would have done it differently next time.

By not closing ourselves off to these lessons, it substantially increases our growth and shortens our learning curve. As for me, I learned to trust myself, reassess what really matters in my life, and that the next time I climb a mountain to definitely bring along foot warmers!

Interview with Jennifer Webb

Q: So Jennifer, what in the world possessed you to climb Mt. Kilimanjaro?

A: Well that's a very good question. I think it was a combination of things. I always wanted to see Africa, and instead of just seeing it, I thought it would be magnificent to really be at the roof of Africa, as they call Mt. Kilimanjaro. And then there was the challenge. I was afraid of heights, and I wondered just how fit I was (after all I'm what society calls middle aged these days), and I think it was that combination that made me decide to test myself and sign up for the climb.

Q: OK, if I understand you correctly you said you were afraid of heights; isn't it foolish, or a little dangerous then to climb a mountain if you can't look down?

A: I trained for Killi with a man who had already made the climb, and I had another friend who had climbed. Both of these people told me I had to be aware of altitude and train, but that it wasn't a technical climb and that it was a sloping climb, not vertical. However I had a major problem with the climb because we went a route that both of my friends had not taken.

Q: Does that mean you were in danger? Did your fear impact your climb?

A: Yes and yes. First, let me back track and say I had emailed this African guide extensively, and he had come recommended, so when I said I was a 50 something woman who was in good shape and afraid of height' was there a problem, he emailed back "no problem." And there wasn't a problem until we reached the Western Breach. This is a rather vertical part of the Mt. Kilimanjaro that is about 2500 feet, and it starts at around 15,500 feet. We were told a German tourist had fallen to his death here, and a porter had fallen and broken his back. But our guide assured us the German had been foolish to attempt it before daylight, so not to worry. I worried because there were these little crosses scattered periodically, and you know what crosses mean at the side of the road in the states. The problem was if you fell you went several thousand feet down and landed on rock. And there were no ropes, we just put our feet where our guides had put their feet and hoped for the best. I can honestly say that part of the climb was the most terrifying thing I had ever done, and definitely it was the most frightening day of my life. I kind of likened it to being outside on a skyscraper about twenty stories high, and just climbing without ropes or any safety harness.

Q: Why didn't you and your group turn around if it was that dangerous?

A: Another good question. However we were already starting up before we realized what was happening. I know that sounds strange, but everything had been sloping, and when we first started the climb it just looked like we would edge onto a path and then do our circuitous hike. We were well into it, clinging to the rocks on the side of the cliff, before I truly knew what trouble I was in, and to even have attempted to turn around and look down and retrace my steps would have probably meant I would have fallen. One of our group has five kids, and when we got to the top he turned to me with tears in his eyes and said, "I just kept thinking my kids need a father."

Q: Tell us what it was like when you finally made it to the top?

A: A feeling of accomplishment, joy, relief, and the thought that I probably wouldn't be cold many more nights. My sleeping bag was designed for minus 10, and each night I ended up with a few layers of clothing and a hat in order to stay warm. Getting out of the sleeping bag was murder!

Q: Would you do it again?

A: No way, but I'm very glad I did it.

Q: So after all the challenges you went through, was it worth it?

A: Absolutely. The African nights were the most magnificent I've ever seen. I remember leaning against my tent seeing my breath, and wanting to capture the moment when I looked up at the stars. The sky was so black, the stars were so bright, and there were so many more than I've ever seen. Everyone else was asleep and it seemed like I was the only one in the universe; it was a moment I'll always cherish.

Q: What did you learn from your climb?

A: How splendid nature is, how much more we can do than we think we're capable of doing, and how blessed we are. Nothing that I've ever done compares to looking off the top of Kilimanjaro at Africa spread out below. It was truly amazing!