Looking back to this week one year ago reminds me that you never really get to finish, till you have done as much as possible...seen as many places as possible, met people with different backgrounds and experiences. And experience life for yourself.
And chances are, before your done, you will fail. You will fail, and get up, brush off the dust and try again. In my case, is was volcanic dust. Ancient dust of Kilimanjaro. And I guess I will have to try again as altitude sickness forced me to turn back about 1,500ft from the top. I have had a full year to ponder if I should have pressed on that night, in the dark with another 4-5 hours to go. Then of course there is getting down. The hard part, and the part you don't want to spend on a stretcher.
Being a flatlander from Western Massachusetts, I had a tough time getting over 1200 ft. above sea level for training. Red blood cells, this does not make. And red blood cells are the key to altitude. So, in the end my hernia surgery seven weeks before the trip did not stop me. Loosing my mom the day of that surgery did not stop me. But the thin air above 17,000 ft did.
This was my first picture headed down the mountain. First time I felt good enough to take one. This was most likely around 14,000 feet, and about where I stopped feeling like eminent death, and only felt like I "might make it down". I kept going, "pole-pole" one step at a time. That tiny path is actually a very long road, part of the "Coca Cola Route" most people take up and back. We came over the North side of the mountain, called the Rongai Route, not far from the border of Kenya. With this longer route we got to see a little more of the mountain than some trekkers experience with the more direct Southern Marnagu Route. However, when it comes to getting down, fast is super. Get down to where the oxygen is. In this case, that means Horombo Hut, at 12, 200 ft. Still a respectable altitude after 3-4 days above 10,000. 
But the view at Horombo Camp was just incredible. I got my first cell call home in days and tried to put things into perspective. An actual Coke helped, along with a meal, lots of water and finally a good nights sleep way above the clouds. I felt much better the next morning and would have loved to just turn back up hill and take on the hill again, but we 28 trekkers and about 90 porters, guides and cooks. And they were all headed down. So we loaded up, and headed down the rest of the mountain in a pretty grueling but incredible 10 mile hike down the mountain and through the rain forest to the lower camp and pick up spot at about 6,000 feet. Every 1000 feet, although you are even more tired and sore in places you never knew you could be sore in, you get more oxygen and feel better and better. By the time we made it down to the Marangu Gate, we had trekked 50 miles of one of the most interesting places on the planet.
I did not make it to the top, but more importantly, I made it to the bottom. But, that's ok. That is one Big Mountain. My first time hiking over a few thousand feet above sea level. But of course it was the chance of a lifetime, and I took it. And it led to a lot of changes in my outlook, and ability to believe in myself, and a great reminder of why I love my job. Some days more than others, of course. But this day last year I was still on my feet, shooting footage of the Mundai Crater that spills into the rain forest below.
Now, as I look back, I also look forward, and plot and plan to somehow find a way to get back to Kilimanjaro, and finish that last couple of thousand feet or so. Might take some doing, but I have time.
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