This morning we left camp at 9:15. We wanted to give others a head start up the Barranco Wall so they wouldn’t have to pass us on the way up. The Barranco Wall was about 1000 feet high and took two hours to climb. There was a path up the side of the wall, but it was steep and required some scrambling up the rocks to ascend. Some parts of the wall were almost fun to climb, but then there were places where we had to avoid looking down and thinking about the precariousness of our situation—climbing around outcroppings of rocks and ledges with sheer drops down and no safety nets.

When we reached the top of the wall we rested before climbing along a ridge down into a valley, then up the other side. Going along the valley, Uhuru Peak was on our left and we heard and saw an avalanche of snow. We were heading towards Karanga Camp, where we would stay the night, while others who were doing a six-day climb of Kili would press on to Barafu Camp that afternoon and their summit attempts that evening.

The climb down into Karanga Valley and up the other side into our camp was BAD. The climb down, again, was very steep and some of the steps down were big. Because I had twisted my knee, I was trying to take small steps to avoid further injury. When faced with big jumps down, I often sat down and scooted part of the way down on my butt. This worked fine until the seat of my North Face pants caught on a sharp rock and ripped. The long underwear I had on underneath disguised the tear and my shirt tail hung down enough so the damage wasn’t noticeable. I kept wearing the pants to climb in for the remaining days, because they were so comfortable, but at the end of the trip they went into the trash can.

We made it down into the valley, where some of the climbers were camping, but our camp was located at the top of the hill. Heading up that hill, for the first time on the trek, I had real doubts about whether I could make it up to the summit. The hill was very, very steep and I was tired. I had to stop frequently and I was very discouraged. After we got into camp and rested I felt better about the days ahead. I was glad I didn’t have to climb that hill in the morning, like the people who camped in the valley.

At this point one of our porters became ill with altitude sickness. Jonas asked Susanne for a Diamox pill to give the porter, and then he descended to Mweka camp where he would meet us in two days. The gear he had been carrying would have to be split up for the remaining porters and our guides to carry. Luckily, we still weren’t feeling too many ill effects from the high altitude.