day 5

Losi wakes us both at 10pm and we put on our summit gear. We’re both wearing extra thick socks, thermal underwear, super-thick down jackets, Thinsulate gloves and a fleece beanie. Around our heads we’re wearing small LED headlamps. Rayson and Martin are similarly attired – we all look like colourful versions of the Michelin Man. We drink tea and look at each other in apprehension.

 It’s snowing and the temperature is well below zero. I suspect I’m mad but we’ve come too far not to have a crack at the summit. We set off along a non-existent path and I’ve no idea how Rayson manages to navigate. Everything is white and for the life of me, I can’t see any landmarks that would give me a sense of direction. The moon is full and shines down the mountain. Our boots leave clear prints in the fresh snow as we walk in silence.

Two hours later we look back and see a slow line of headlamps moving toward us. We’re not the only climbers on the mountain tonight. Tim and I have been climbing slowly and gradually we’re overtaken by a number of other climbers all aiming to summit that night. We’re both pretty weak after the morning trek and six hours after we left camp we’ve still got a while to go. At 5,400m we stop for a short rest. I’m tiring fast and starting to worry. I’m pretty sure I can reach the summit but will I have enough strength to get down again? As we rest, another group of climbers join us for a chat. One of them, a big Canadian chap, seems to be battling more than the others. After chatting with Tim I decide to descend back to our camp. I’m slowing Tim down – and I’m just not prepared to risk going on. The Canadian fellow is in a similar situation to me but he decides to continue his climb and aim for the summit.

With regret, Martin and I separate from the group and start the long journey downhill. Surprisingly, the technique for travelling downhill is quite different. On the ascent it’s one torturous step after the next - but the downhill technique involves large steps; almost running downhill along a path that’s visible only to those in the know. We descend rapidly but are overtaken by the mountain rescue team – two men carrying a woman who’s suffering from Acute Mountain Sickness. The only way to save her life is to get her to a lower altitude as fast as possible.

As we descend the sun starts to rise and a bright aura arches across the sky. It’s stopped snowing and it looks as if it’s going to be a beautiful day. We stop and admire this incredible sight. I may not have made the summit but I’ve seen the sun rise over Africa. Martin and I slow our descent and revert to the slower mountain shuffle that’s been our norm for the last few days. It took me 6 hours to reach an altitude of 5,400m and just 3 hours to get back to our advance camp site. After nine hours walking in the snow I’m absolutely exhausted and within minutes of reaching our camp site I’ve collapsed into a deep sleep. I don’t have enough energy to take off my boots so I fall asleep in my tent with my boots sticking out into the snow.

I must have slept for about an hour when I wake with a sharp pain. A little mouse has mistaken me for breakfast and taken a nip out of my finger. It scurries away when I wake up – maintaining a safe distance out of any possible danger. It needn’t have worried. I don’t have a single muscle that works as it is supposed to. Every muscle aches – every bone creaks. Losi brings me a cup of tea and the porters all joke about the little mouse that attacked a giant.

As I drink the tea, my muscles slowly relax and I wonder how Tim and Rayson are getting on. I scan the mountainside waiting for them to return, and eventually I see them climbing down through the mist. Tim enters our camp as a hero – he’s reached the summit at Uhuru Peak (5,895m) and made it back down to our tent – safe and sound. We all hug each other and the porters sing a song of praise – just reward for a magnificent effort.

Our plan now is to descend further down the mountain to Mandara Huts (2,720m). It’s another 20km hike and we’ve got to get there before nightfall. Today’s been tough but at least it’s stopped raining. We’ve spent nearly 20 hours on our feet and when we eventually reach Mandara all we want to do is sleep.