I awake from a dead sleep at what feels like the middle of the night or perhaps early morning. My neck is covered in sweat so I remove one layer to cool down a bit. I realize right away that my sleeping bag is definitely going to keep me warm on this mountain.
I don’t want to put on my camp shoes and leave the comfort of my warm tent, but I need to use the toilet. The diamox I am taking to help prevent altitude sickness is a diuretic and while it will prove to do its job, it will also prove to be the cause for my nightly trips to the toilet. With that, I’ve never felt so happy every time I have to pee because it signals that I am hydrated which is a must to avoid altitude sickness, amongst other things.

I make my way to our portable toilet from my assigned tent, tent #23, my home for the next eight days. I am reminded how grateful I am to no longer have to use the camp toilets (the originals squatty potties), because when you’re half asleep on a mountain, I feel like the chances of falling in that shit hole greatly increase!

We have one porter traveling with us who has the sole responsibility of all things chemical toilet...carrying it from camp to camp, setting it up at each camp, cleaning it for our team, keeping it stocked with toilet paper and hand sanitizer for the entire journey. The toilet sits inside a small green tent so we even have privacy which I realize is a luxury on the mountain. Many other tour groups don’t have this luxury and so I feel blessed to have Neemia, the toilet man, along with us to make things seem just a bit more comfortable.

As I venture to and from my tent, headlamp shining brightly, I hear monkeys in the distance in the surrounding rainforest.

I take care of my business and quickly return to the comfort of my single tent, another huge luxury that I did not expect on this trip. I was fully expecting to share a tent with one of my teammates, but because others opted for a single tent and one pair of friends, Vinti and Colin, had decided to share, I was surprised with a tent all to myself. What an amazing gift to receive to have so much extra space and privacy as well as a place to be alone, reflect, and rest comfortably.

As I lay back down, I say out loud, talking to myself, “the original squatty potty”, as I flash back to earlier in the day and then I laugh out loud in my tent... the kind of silly, delirious, middle of the night laugh that could continue on and on to tears from laughing so hard...before telling myself, don’t do it...don’t get silly...control the laughter...it’s time to get more rest before morning.

In that moment, I hear from another nearby tent the sound of someone snoring and it reminds me of home. It reminds me of my boyfriend who normally, I would want to shake and wake so he would stop, but in that moment it is comforting and familiar. The sound of that snore in the distance, on this mountain, while alone in my tent, makes me feel at home.

The winds are strong outside my tent as I close my eyes, but they rock me back to sleep like a baby as they remind me of crashing ocean waves, another familiar sound that I love reminding me of home.
Before I know it, I am sleeping like a baby, dreaming of things that are now too far out of reach to recall.

I wake the morning of day two on the mountain to, “Hello. Good morning.”, coming from outside of my tent. I reply back, “Hello! Good morning!, As I rise and unzip my tent, I am greeted with a smile by one of our waiters, Sosten.

“Coffee or tea?”, he asks.

“Coffee please. Black.”

“Ok”, he says. And before I know it, at 6:18 AM, he is back with a warm mug full of fresh, hot coffee.

He tells me he will return with a bowl of warm water for washing in 20 minutes, and he does just that.

I feel so spoiled and so extremely grateful. I’m on a mountain in Tanzania and a waiter, who has just delivered hot coffee to my tent, is now going to return with warm water so I can wash myself.

Is this heaven?

As I drink my coffee, I thank the Universe for another beautiful day, my breath, and for all the love, guidance, and support around me. I smile and feel wrapped in a blanket of love. I feel ready for the day ahead, whatever it may bring.

We will hike six miles from Big Tree Camp to Shira 1 Camp, passing through the rainforest into the the Moreland, our second of five climate zones. We will experience an elevation gain of around 2,900 feet bringing us to 11,500 feet at Shira 1 Camp, where we will rest for our second night on the mountain.

After a beautiful breakfast in our mess tent, before we depart for the day, I step away from the group to the Big Tree Camp sign and for the first time, I kneel to the mountain and I spread some sand from York, Maine, one of my homes, on the fresh Earth beneath me as I repeat three times, sand rubbing against my fingers as it slowly falls to the ground, my daily mantra which will prove true.

I am loved.

I am guided.

I am safe.

I am loved.

I am guided.

I am safe.

I am loved.

I am guided.

I am safe.

I then blow a kiss in the wind and thank the Universe for my breath, my strength, and my entire spiritual team that I know is right there with me.

This becomes my daily morning ritual and I grow to love this sacred and spiritual time just for me.

Before we depart, I ask my friend Christina if she will snap a picture of me with the Flag of Honor at the camp sign. As the Flag blows against my body from the wind, I feel blessed to be carrying it in honor and memory of every individual named and on behalf of so many individuala that have gotten me to this point and have supported the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society.

“Twende”, Wilfred says to the team. This is Swahili for “Let’s go”. He will lead the group for today’s hike.

The sun is shining, there is barely a cloud in the blue sky above, and the breeze is perfection as we begin our trek around 8:45 AM. We couldn’t have asked for better conditions.

The trail is narrow and lined with thick, luscious greenery on both sides. The green is so vibrant and a beautiful contrast against the blue skies in the distance. We see monkeys along the way playing and eating in the trees above, some semi to pose as we stop to take pictures almost in disbelief of the beauty that surrounds us. As we cross our first bridge, a stream flows beneath , and we begin to climb up...and up...and up...Pole Pole.

For reference, I would refer to our pace, pole pole, as a snails pace, moving so...very...slowly. Zero sense of urgency. No rush to be anywhere at all. Just one foot in front of the next, covering ground with each step. I would never have imagined moving so slowly and surely would never have imagined welcoming this pace, but I embraced it from that moment forward. All we needed to do was remain present, in the moment, at all times, one foot in front of the other, over and over and over, following Wilfred’s lead toward Shira 1 Camp.

Left foot, right trekking pole. Right foot, left trekking pole. On Repeat for the next six hours.

This method of movement quickly proved to offer me a meditative state, time passing by quickly, hours gone before I realized. Simply amazing.

Our porters start passing us shortly after we leave Big Tree Camp. Their speed is super human as they carry their own packs as well as our duffels plus ALL the things...our tents, food, supplies, the chemical toilet, and more...many of them balancing these items inside larger bags balanced on their heads or the backs of their necks. Without these porters, none of this would even be possible. None of us were capable of lugging our 33 pound duffels up this mountain, along with our day packs, selves, and supplies.

Porters are like angels sent from above. One of many pieces to this puzzle that is climbing Kilimanjaro. Without them, the puzzle would never be complete.

Shortly after we take a break, there is a distinct and noticeable shift in the landscape. Wilfred confirms that we have gone from rainforest to Moreland. The trees become shorter, the trail becomes much drier and rockier, and the vegetation around us completely changes.

The new, rockier nature of the trail reminds me of hiking in New Hampshire and again I feel at home despite being so far away.

As we trek along together, climbing and then descending over and over, I keep reminding myself that we are just experiencing some rolling hills. Up and down. Climb and descend. No big deal. Just like training on hills for a marathon...yet so very different.

I find myself creating several mind tricks like this for the duration of the hike. Mindset matters. This climb will prove to be, in my opinion, at least 92% mental.

We are in open air with minimal cover, the sun beating down, gaining elevation with every step. I’ve lost track of time again when, like magic, we approach the top of a hill climb and our green mess tent appears. Next to it is the “Bank of America”, our toilet tent.

Am I dreaming?

No. This is reality. THIS is the experience we have been gifted.

Our porters had managed to get way ahead of us, something they would do daily going forward, and they had set up our mess tent, complete with tables, chairs, tablecloths, plates, mugs, and silverware AND they had prepared us a beautiful, nourishing, hot meal for lunch.

Pinch me!!!

Here I am, hiking in Tanzania, and just like that, voila! There’s a toilet and hot lunch! You can not make this shit up.

Thank you Universe.

Every meal begins with hot tea followed by hot soup, and then a protein, carbs, vegetables, fruits, and finally, dessert.

Lunch today starts with Mount Kilimanjaro branded tea followed by carrot soup, fried tilapia, pasta salad, cucumbers, carrots, mango, oranges, a juice box, and a candy bar that reminds me of an Almond Joy. Absolutely delicious and exactly the fuel we all needed for the 2.5 hour hike that lay ahead.

After lunch, we continue to climb up rocky terrain gaining elevation with every step. I continue to drink more and more water, not wanting to become dehydrated. Our guides suggest 3L each day, but I make it a point to aim for 4L to ensure I never have an empty tank. Dehydration would suck on this mountain. All in, by the end of this day, I will have taken in just under 4L.

About an hour and a half in, Wilfred signals to us that it is time for another short break. We drop our packs to “go pick flowers”, a trail term for going to pee off trail. We rest and reapply sunscreen. Just before we are set to go, Wilfred informs us that this is the first spot we might get cell reception.

We are at over 11,000 feet on the side of a mountain and we might get cell service?!? What the?!?

I take the opportunity to call my parents because it is my Dad’s birthday today and because I want them to know I am OK. We connect and I can hear them like they are right there next to me. The power of technology!

I try calling my little loves and my boyfriend next, but my calls will no longer connect and I realize it just wasn’t meant to be...today. We are told there will be another opportunity at a later point, and so I bank that and plan to try them then.

After everyone is done reaching out to family and friends, we continue on for another 45 minutes or so to our final destination for the day.

As we hike, the team shares stories and chats about our lives at home, our experiences, and more. The camaraderie is palpable and I feel so blessed that these are the six people that I have been joined with for the most mentally and physically challenging experience of my life to date.

As we round a corner getting so close to our camp, the summit of Mount Kilimanjaro comes into full view for the first time since our climb began. There she was was in all her glory, white snow capped peaks before our very own eyes. Magnificent would be an understatement.

I stare in awe. We all take pictures. We talk about how close yet how far away she seems. It feels surreal to see her in this moment, our ultimate destination seemingly within reach, yet days away.

We arrive to Shira 1 camp about 15 minutes later.

“Jambo!!”, the porters yell, greeting us with their smiling hellos.

Frederik and I fist bump again...”You. Me. Him.”...and smile at one another as we do so.

Today on the trail, I counted 37 heart shaped rocks. Someone is certainly guiding me and staying by my side on this journey and again, I feel wrapped in a blanket of safety and love.

I snapped this picture along the way and when I looked back and found it, seeing the full rainbow arch, I broke down in tears of overwhelm and love. Since my friend Harry passed from leukemia, I have seen more rainbows than I can count in the strangest of places and climates. Seeing this rainbow in this picture served as yet another reminder that I am in fact loved, guided, and safe, wrapped in the arms of the angels.

I head to tent 23, my home, to clean up, put on my super comfy camp shoes, and set up my tent for the evening ahead.

Within 10 minutes, there is another hello from outside my tent and a bowl of fresh hot water is once again gifted to me to wash.

“Come to the mess tent in 15 minutes for warm tea, popcorn, and nuts.”, says Godlisten.

“Poa Poa. Asante sana”, I say, meaning OK. Thank you very much.

I meet the team in the mess tent where we enjoy hot tea and snacks, celebrate our arrival to Camp 2, laugh a ton, and share our awe to have such a picture perfect view of the summit from our home for the night.

Before dinner, we relax in the sunshine, take in the breathtaking view, and read, journal, and rest before dinner.

Frederik conducts our health checks before we eat our meal. I report a 9/10 for how I am feeling because I am tired from the day. This is the only time on the entire trip I report anything less than 10/10.

I feel grateful and thank the Universe for my breath, my strength, and my body that IS a miracle. Being at nearly 11,500 feet at this camp, some team members report a headache likely due to altitude and/or dehydration.

My pulse is 73 and my Oxygen saturation is 92. I ask how low an acceptable saturation could be as we continue to gain elevation to which Frederik replies, “below 70 is not good”. My nurse brain screams “ BELOW 70!?!!”, but I realize and acknowledge the conditions we are in and will be in in the coming days as we climb.

Dinner proves to be another amazing meal. I don’t eat this good on a normal basis at home or even in some restaurants. The food we are getting is made with fresh, all natural ingredients and so much love and care. We are fueled to the max with only the best in our bellies.

Frederik shares that tomorrow, we will hike another 6.2 miles to an elevation of 12,779 feet. In the morning, we will once again wake at 6 AM to a warm beverage followed by warm water to wash, breakfast, and then a special treat where the crew would introduce themselves to us and we would have the opportunity to do the same.

Just before we are set to enjoy hot ginger tea, my new most favorite drink after a meal, Frederik announces that the summit is in clear view.

We all exit the tent excitedly and MY GOD. There she was again, in full view for us to take in, breathe in, and drink up.

Before we retire, our waiters take our Nalgene bottles and fill them with boiling water to be used at the foot of our sleeping bag to keep our feet and bags warm for the cold night ahead. Yet another gift we receive from these angels on Earth.

I guess I won’t be sleeping alone tonight after all.

Lala salama...Sleep well.