Day 5 Karanaga to Barafu

Our last full night. My sleep, shallow and not restful. I sit and write these words, as they are in the present.

The anxiety of the summit hits me full boar and my mind is thinking ahead to the even less restful short nap that we will have on our midnight-start summit hike later today. My mind races as I intermittently nod off and dream crazy non-sense.

I am not sure if it’s the altitude or the anti-malarial drugs messing with my head, but so far I have been courted by Patrick Dempsy, been dropped over Niagara Falls, and journeyed to far-away places that exist only in fairy tales.

I must have been in a place resembling the Land of Oz when we were woken up to begin our hike to the last camp.

My legs feel the strain from the night before and because I have not been drinking enough water. I know, everybody told me to drink plenty of water, but honestly, I refuse to go out of my tent in the night to go to the toilet. Naturally I don’t drink enough water.

The seriousness of the hike hits us as one of the porters has fallen ill. It’s his first trip up the mountain, just like ours. The poor guy is crouched behind a rock puking incessantly. Poor think was surely embarrassed. All four of us just want to help him, but decide that the shame might be counterproductive.

Amazingly, despite my malaise, we make it to camp in record time! A mere two hours and fifteen minutes (even with the puke pit-stop).

Summit Night

Cold. I sit in my sleeping bag rubbing my feet together, trying to keep them warm. It’s 715 pm and I am supposed to be sleeping and resting up for the 1130 wake up call. But once again, I can’t seem to find the peace to fall asleep.