Climbing Kilimanjaro- by Kiran Franklin
11th May 2023 20:55
“I think the answer will be a No but Kids Village off to Kilimanjaro end of Feb 24, fancy it?” – Gary Fletcher.
I look at the phone and know instantly I want to do this. We are already stretched having relocated back to the Midlands after leaving London to set up Franklin Physiotherapy Ltd with my wife and we have a three year old. Two weeks out from work is impossible. But it’s Gary, it’s for Kids’ Village and it’s Kilimanjaro. I DEFINTELY CANNOT AFFORD THIS…I reply…
11th May 2023 20:57
“Yes tell me more.”
Sammie Whatsapps me more information. An eight day climb. £5240 is the bottom line. I’ve got to raise over 5k. Tough. I ask my wife Nikki for her thoughts. She’s annoyed with me because she has just booked a girls trip to Wales to climb Snowdon and this has definitely dwarfed her news. Nikki tells me that even though it’s on her bucket list, I should do it and that she will help me raise the funds.
Nik posts my news straight onto our Instagram @franklinphysiotherapy. Its official. I’m climbing Kilimanjaro for the Kids Village. Over the next few days I get in contact with @Christomfox to get posters designed for our clinic. I set up a JustGiving page and launch it two days later. We use every opportunity to tell patients about a local charity that is raising funds to build the UKs first holiday respite centre for critically ill children. We run raffles and ask local businesses to provide prizes. We run a cake sale and offer treatments for donations in clinic. Over the months people give generously and consistently. We raise over 6k prior to the climb.
21/2/24- Day 0
Flying into Mt Kilimanjaro airport from LHR, we arrived at 7:40 am. We travel to a coffee plantation in Arusha to help shake off the long flight. Our chief African guide Mousa briefs us on what to expect. It’s difficult to imagine what lies ahead when you are in tranquillity, with access to a pool and a four poster bed.
22/2/24 – Day 1
We are transferred to the Lemosho Gate at around 2100 metres above sea level. I can already feel the altitude and my day pack is 7kg too heavy! Reality dawns on me that my biggest battle will be a mental one. We are numbered 1-20 and find myself in the number eight position. We start the climb in our ordered line, nervously excited and excitedly chatting about the altitude and what may lie in store. The guides instruct us to go Pole Pole (slowly, slowly). After several hours of climbing through the jungle all twenty of us make Big Tree camp at 2650 metres above sea level. There are no home comforts, just tents and monkeys.
We eat together in the mess tent and I try to better understand the dynamic of the team. The Sun drops away before 7pm and there is little left to do other than organise Kit for the next day ahead. I wonder if I’ll sleep. Lights out.
The monkeys are noisy throughout the night, no sleep from camp 1, I can feel my resting heart rate is higher and I’m slightly breathless through the night. A common theme we discuss over breakfast. The toilets have been well used throughout the night, no soundproofing.
23/2/24 – Day 2
I pack much lighter on day 2 and fuelled on soup from the night before and 3 servings of breakfast I feel ready to climb again. Spirit seems good in the camp, no mention of altitude sickness. Slowly we emerge out of the Jungle and climb to 3500 metres above sea level. Today seems more of a grind. The first few signs of altitude sickness in the team start to show as the oxygen levels start to tail off. My legs feel strong but I know that I’ll need to sleep at some point if I’m going to make it. The landscape is more desolate. Contact with home up until now has been easy, but the signal starts to fail. I mark my daughters name – ENID – in the sand so I feel I’m taking her with me. I miss her but promised her I’d make it to the top. So no turning back from here I tell myself.
We make sense of the day over dinner and are briefed on our next day. We learn that African time estimations are only half the truth and an ‘easy walk’ is code for challenging. I remain off comms through the night and wonder if Nikki and Enid are ok.
24/2/24 – Day 3
I get an hours sleep and feel my body starting to settle into a rhythm of insomnia but feel that my breathing and heart rate are settling. I start to internalise what I need to do and what it would take for me not to summit. I decide I’ll keep going until my body shuts down. After breakfast we say goodbye to Sue. Altitude sickness had kicked in hard through the night for her after a tough climb yesterday. Anxiety starts to seep into camp. Who’s next?
We start the climb as 19 and our ordered numbers have long gone. The pace is steady but the weather begins to change and the clouds roll in. The pack begins to split and the guides become a source for our morale. Altitude is starting to effect people and there is a limit to how quickly you can cover the ground. The mantra from the guides is consistent. One Team, one dream, none stop to the top. There energy is relentless. I wonder how much they earn, not enough for what they do and the risk they take on. I try to project a strong image and continue to stay in the lead pack. I start to switch off from the needs of the group and start to lean on others. Fredy our guide tells me I’m strong like SIMBA. For the first time in a long time I start to doubt myself.
We make Shira Huts at 3895 metres, our home for the night. Each campsite now more barren that the one before. I record a video for Enid to let her know I’m ok. I’m trying to convince myself that I can keep pace with zero sleep. My biggest fear is that the mountain is just too big and I’m only halfway.
25/2/24 – Day 4
No sleep, but I remind myself that even lying still is resting. The heavens open. We have 600 metres of ascent to 4500 metres. The group has divided into clusters. Today has taken a toll on the group. Netty battles on with altitude sickness. Alan, Billy and Gary M come to the fore and rally the troops with humour and their leadership. Wet kit and damp tents start to sap my mood.
We continue to walk high and camp low to help with acclimatisation. Dropping back to 3900 metres is demoralising. Part of the process I tell myself. It’s hard to trace where you have been and the scale of the mountain is imperceptible.
26/2/24 – Day 5
No sleep again but I tell myself it will come when it’s done. Netty pushes on, possibly her last day as the altitude is hitting her hard above 4200 metres. I weigh up taking anti altitude sickness tablets as I must finish the climb. It now means too much. We have all come so far but the reality is that means nothing.
I take in the surroundings a little more and remember to look up. There’s so much constant life on Kili. A great reminder that the porters and guides risk their lives everyday. Their fitness and courage is astounding. We make it to Karanga camp. Another day of wet. Dr Jamie advises I take anti altitude tablets as I start to feel nausea and tiredness combined. It is decided by the Dr that Netty will leave the mountain tomorrow due to altitude sickness. Down to 18. Devastating but safety first. I manage to get signal and call Nikki.
I see Enid on screen and she asks me how long until I come home. I say not long now. I’m tired and seeing her makes me upset but I don’t show it. I tell Nikki that I’m struggling, and summit is fast approaching. I wonder if my body will start to fail, more likely my mind. Nikki tells me she’ll be upset with me if I .don’t do it and will regret it for the rest of my life, too late to quit. I sit in my tent and wait to sleep. My phone blows up with messages of support, Nik had rallied the troops back home. My lowest point on the mountain but this pushes me on. I keep a low profile that night. I remind myself of my friends son who is going through chemo. I remind myself why I’m here. Why I’ve left my girls. The Kids Village.
27/2/24- Day 6
Sun shines for the start of day 6. No sleep, standard now. My body still feels strong. One more camp to tick off and then a midnight summit attempt. Doubt still present that at any moment I could fail and then the Porters and Guides sing to us. A rallying effort. Amazing, kind and generous people. I realise I have given little to the group in the past 24 hours, but I’m still here, we all are, together.
Brown a chief guide leads the team willing us up the mountain. Kili summit unveils herself from the cloud and we go slowly for four hours. All a blur really. Just an A to B. We make camp at Barafu. Our final pit stop before attempting to summit. Clear skies. It’s been relentless getting here. 1200 metres of ascent for 6-7 hours straight is ahead of us.
On summit night we were greeted at 11pm with hot tea by our familiar friendly porters. Remarkable unshakable kind people. Final kit admin done, I pack a bracelet Lydia my niece had made me for good luck. I read the summit letter Nikki had written me. I’d made it this far. I was ready to go.
28/2/24 – Summit day
We set off without an end in sight. Warm initially, after 200 metres of elevation a light dusting of snow appeared. The guides pushing us up. Telling us to never surrender. Tough times ahead. Maybe 15 hours ahead of walking with the down. Too tired to think of the down and the what if’s, just head down.
The snow came and it got thicker. As we ascend it begins to freeze. My jacket leaks and I feel my core temp start to drop. I ask Fredy to help change my base layers which he did with a smile. Visibility was worsening and conversation had died away. Water bottles were freezing and regular breaks were avoided to keep us warm.
At 5500 metres Claire collapsed due to dehydration and low oxygen. Dr Jamie intervened with Alan. The worst moment of the climb which caused panic in the dark. Alan had to take Claire down the mountain ASAP. We had lost our team mate and our leader. Down to 16/20.
Billy and Gary M ex marines took control with Alan gone. As we got higher the weather got worse as did the bottleneck of people growing more impatient and fatigued. At 4 am the guides broke into song to keep us on track.
Fredy helps me drink hot water from my flask. My hands are numb. He pours. We need to keep pushing. No time to stand still. I hold Lydias bracelet tightly and keep remembering the promise I made to Enid…to make it to the top.
2 1/2 hours later we made it to Stella Point 5700 metres above sea level. Freezing and elated. The job almost done. A hugely significant moment. Then onwards for another hour to Uhuru Peak.
Led by Sammie and Jamie, we eventually made it to our final destination. There were so many leaders in the team that had got us this far. Every single person brought something of value. The two constant driving forces who stuck together and lead by example are Sammie and Jamie. Without their stories there would have been no reason for me to climb Kilimanjaro. Fitting that they led us to our Summit. Their will and determination was infectious.
Living on a mountain for 8 days was challenging but thanks to the expertise of our leaders, porters and guides the whole team got to go home safely.
When you think you are done, go again. Find your courage and dare to fail.
The 5k initial target was smashed and I helped to raise over 8k for The Kids Village. Contact on the mountain was limited but Nik tried to share what she had from me with you all online throughout the journey, helping to raise awareness and more financial support along the way.
Thank you to all who donated to a worthy cause and backed my risk.
To my fellow climbers, Asante Sana, Power.
