The Challenge of Kilimanjaro
Dec 8, 2024 | by The Fellowship
I am not a mountain climber, but I have climbed mountains. Growing up in El Paso, Texas, I spent countless hours hiking the Franklin Mountains or venturing north to Mount Baldy in New Mexico. I have climbed as high as 14,114 feet in Colorado, so when my friend invited me to join a group of guys to climb Mount Kilimanjaro, I was intrigued. After prayer and discussion with my wife, I committed to the climb, but with a twist: we were not just going to climb a mountain for the sake of it -- we would climb for a cause!
The cause we chose was Living Water International, an organization that provides clean drinking water and shares the living water of Jesus. Over several months, we raised more than $7,500 to help fund a well in a community that lacks access to clean water.
Kilimanjaro, the tallest free-standing mountain in the world, rises to 19,341 feet. Located in Tanzania, it is considered “every man’s mountain” because it is one of the most accessible high-altitude climbs. However, it is no easy feat. Anything above 18,000 feet is considered extreme altitude, and the body must go through a process of acclimatization to adjust to the lower oxygen levels. How each person responds to the altitude is unpredictable—an element that adds to the uncertainty of the climb.
I began training in earnest in May. For two and a half months, I hiked with a rucksack, climbed stairs and ramps, and worked to get my body in peak condition. But physical preparation was only part of the equation. I also had to prepare my heart. I tend to focus too much on the destination, often missing the beauty of the journey. So, I prayed for God’s help in experiencing His presence each day, not just on the summit.
On July 14, I left for Tanzania, arrived at Kilimanjaro Airport on July 17 and then met up with my friend. Our original group had dwindled to just the two of us. Our team consisted of two guides as well as porters, cooks, and other helpers who worked tirelessly with smiles, truly the hardest working men you could imagine.
On July 18, we began our climb from the park entrance at 8,000 feet, taking the Lemosho route, a longer and more gradual path giving the best chance for altitude acclimation. The first two days took us through lush forest before reaching the Shira Plateau, a remnant of an ancient volcanic crater, at 11,480 feet. Each day offered new, breathtaking views of Kilimanjaro rising in the distance.
On the morning of July 21, the summit appeared clearly in the distance, its snow-capped peak standing stark against the sky. But we were still four days away. After crossing the Shira Plateau, we pushed on to Lava Tower at 15,500 feet. Here, the effects of altitude became real. Many experience symptoms like headaches and nausea, but I felt fine. After resting there for an hour, we then descended into the Senecio Forest—a steep, rocky descent through a surreal landscape dotted with giant plants.
At day’s end, we reached Baranco Camp at 13,000 feet. That is when I first noticed a troubling cough. Breathing was becoming harder. The next day, we tackled the Baranco Wall, a 900-foot climb that, in lower altitudes, would be difficult. But with limited oxygen, it became a struggle. Despite this, I pushed through to the next camp, Karanga, at 13,500 feet. A sign there read: “If you are having trouble breathing, do not proceed.” My guide seemed to think I could continue to the next camp, so I pressed on.
At Barafu Camp, over 15,000 feet, I was no longer able to breathe properly. Hearing fluid in my lungs — a sign of pulmonary edema, a life-threatening condition-- I knew that continuing would put my life at risk. My guides said it was my decision to continue or descend, but in my heart, I knew the right choice was to head down.
My friend continued to the summit with the guide. I texted my wife to let her know what was happening. I was deeply disappointed. Despite the effort and months of preparation, I was not going to make it to the top. That night I stayed with our assistant guide. By morning, I was swollen from the altitude, especially in my feet and ankles.
The next two days involved a tough descent, walking straight down the mountain to a pick-up location. I opted for the slow, arduous trek instead of a helicopter evacuation, feeling the prayers of those back home lifting me every step of the way. Finally, two grueling days later, we reached the base of the mountain. After being picked up, I landed in a hospital.
The trip home took three flights and two overnight stays. Although physically drained, I realized God had answered my prayer with His presence, provision, and peace each day, even when things did not go as planned. The journey, not the summit, became the most meaningful part of the experience.
Looking back, I am reminded that life, much like the climb, is not always about reaching the top … but about the lessons learned and the moments lived along the way. Through it all, God was there -- and that was enough.
God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.
Psalm 46:1
To contribute to Living Water International, visit here. Watch a video of the climb here.