Mount Kilimanjaro: The Mountain That Started It All
A personal story of challenge, triumph, laughter and transformation on Africa’s tallest peak — told through the eyes of a 20-year-old Kev.
The Decision That Changed Everything
March 2013, La Trobe University.
I was studying Sports Management when I stumbled upon a forum where professors posted various opportunities. One particular opportunity stood out — a trip to Africa with the option to climb Mount Kilimanjaro. It sounded incredible. I attended the info session, and by the end of it, I was hooked. Without hesitation, I booked the trip.
Fast forward 11 months, and I found myself on a plane to Tanzania.
When I was in high school, I dreamed of visiting Europe, and always imagined that would be my first solo travel experience. But instead, I was heading to Africa. My fascination with the continent, fuelled by countless wildlife documentaries, made it impossible to contain my excitement.
A Crew of Legends
After two weeks of volunteering, sightseeing, and going on safaris, I was about to take on the world’s tallest free-standing mountain with five other legends from different corners of Australia. We were already a close-knit group after everything we’d shared.
Our crew: Ben, Gonz, Jake, John, Rach and me.
Six slightly different personalities but one big thing in common: our sense of humour. We clicked from the day we met. The next six days would test us, but I was ready to tackle them head on — with plenty of laughs along the way.
Here’s how it all unfolded.
Day 1: The Journey Begins
I had a great shower to start the day — which would end up being the only shower I have for the next five or six days. My bags were packed and a hearty breakfast of toast, eggs and fruit fuelled us for the day ahead. The Kilimanjaro bus arrived and we stopped to rent essential gear such as snow gloves, waterproof pants and hiking poles.
The porters, soon to become the true heroes of this climb, joined us as we made a final stop for food and supplies. As the rain began to pour, John rushed out to grab a six pack of Kilimanjaro beer. The idea? Cracking one open at the summit.
At Machame Gate, this is where it all started to feel real. It was still pissing down rain as we struggled into our wet weather gear inside the cramped bus. We huddled under a shelter for lunch, filled in our details and met an American group as the local monkeys were lurking around, stealing food from bins and fellow climbers. Unfortunately for Gonz, his muffin was stolen.
The moment had come. We took a group photo in front of the Machame Gate and then we were off. The porters were already ahead of us as we hiked with the assistant guide.
We were introduced to the phrase ‘pole, pole’ — a mantra that would define our entire climb. In Swahili, it means ‘slowly, slowly’ which in the context of Kilimanjaro, it means moving slow to avoid altitude sickness. But after spending two weeks in Tanzania and especially on Zanzibar Island, I realised that this saying applies to everyday life in this country.
After making it up the first hill, we realised it wasn’t going to be easy. The trail led us through lush rainforest — green, stunning, magical and alive. Jake and I entertained ourselves by counting steps — much to the amusement and annoyance of the others. Ben more so than the rest — hitting Jake with his poles every time he counted a step.
We continued slowly until we reached Machame Camp, soaked, but not as drenched as the Danish girls we met. Our tents were already set up and we got into some dry clothes. The porters set up a table and we were served popcorn, tea and hot chocolate followed by a hot dinner. We were in bed by 9pm, excitement buzzing in the air for Day 2.
Day 2: Into the Clouds
It was an early wakeup at 6am. I slept okay, despite waking up randomly throughout the night. We were treated to a hot breakfast of eggs, toast and sausages. We continued our trek up, steeper and rockier than the day before.
At the halfway point, we stopped for lunch — crows and mice lurked around, hoping to scavenge any crumbs we dropped. Soon we were amongst the clouds and it was a beautiful sight to behold — I have never been so high in my life.
Shira Camp was much flatter but shrouded in fog. It started raining just as we got into our tents — perfect timing. After a delicious warm pumpkin soup and a spaghetti lunch, we had a couple of hours to kill to take a nap or write in our journals.
At 4:30pm we went for a short acclimation hike up to 3900m. We stayed up there for about 10-15 minutes before the short walk back to camp where a hot dinner was waiting for us — topped off with delicious banana fritter for dessert.
Rafiki (our chef’s assistant), pointed out the Kilimanjaro summit to us. The clouds had cleared, and it was stunning — a little reminder of how much further we had to go. We took some photos before the clouds reappeared, shielding the view.
At around 10pm, Gonz woke me up to tell me to step outside and look at the stars. I was a little hesitant as I was so warm and cozy in my sleeping bag.
“You won’t regret it” he insisted.
I went outside and instantly I was in awe. There were so many stars and I could see the Milky Way — a beautiful purple haze across the night sky. John joined us and pointed out Orion’s Belt and the Southern Cross. Looking up, it makes you feel incredibly small in comparison to how vast the universe is and my mind wanders, imagining what’s out there. It was magical, a moment I won’t forget.
Day 3: Sunscreen and Snowballs
We awoke to a cold, crisp morning. Today the sun was out, and the skies were clear. Though cold at first, it began to warm up — reminding me of Melbourne weather. We put on some sunscreen and the sunglasses were essential — not just for looking good but because the sun was incredibly bright. We began heading into the direction of the summit, the same sight we saw when the clouds cleared last night at dinner.
Today’s goal was to reach Lava Tower which was about 4600m and then descend back to 3900m at Barranco Camp — a key acclimatisation strategy, increasing our chance of a successful summit. The pace we hiked was even slower than yesterday, maintaining our ‘pole, pole’ mantra as the trail grew more rugged.
As we continued towards Lava Tower, snow appeared and naturally snowballs were thrown at each other. We acclimatised amongst birds, crows and those mountain mice again (I’m sure they have an actual name), before descending through some surreal landscapes — passing trees that looked like pineapples.
We reached Barranco Camp, exhausted. A big day climbing up and down for over 10km. Most of us had a headache, taking whatever painkillers we had. To amuse ourselves, we played games of ‘What are the odds’ and Pictionary before smashing some pasta for dinner. The clouds cleared and Barranco Wall loomed above us — tomorrow’s challenge.
The night ended with a frantic search and rescue…......for Rach’s head torch. With no luck, the search was called off — to be resumed at first light.
Day 4: Conquering Barranco Wall
5:30am wakeup to the cold, crisp air, keeping in theme with the last couple of mornings. Barranco Wall was no joke. A tough rocky climb but the view from the top was incredible.
We continued on through the beautiful Karanga Valley, and stopped by a river below a steep hill that would lead us to Karanga Camp. Lunch with a view — my favourite kind. Jake lost another game of ‘What are the odds’ and now had to drink his summit beer from his sock. There was a chance of rain so we hopped into our wet weather gear — a little easier this time compared to inside the cramped bus.
After multiple steep hills, we reached base camp — Barafu Camp. Rach crashed immediately. The rest of us chilled, popped pills for our pending altitude sickness and laughed at photos we’d taken so far. Spaghetti was served, summit playlist was ready and we were in bed by 6:30pm. I didn’t sleep very well and before I knew it, it was time to wake up again. At 11:30pm, summit night began.
Day 5: The Final Push to Uhuru Peak
12:40am, freezing temperatures, pitch black with only head torches lighting the way. “Eye of the Tiger” kicked off the playlist, motivating us to box our way through the difficult challenge we had ahead of us. We moved slow — focused and determined.
Altitude hit hard. A few of us started taking painkillers and altitude tablets to get us through. Some were beginning to struggle and the constant stop-start rhythm was taking its toll. We decided to split up. Half of us went ahead, while the rest trailed behind, encouraging those struggling to keep pushing.
Stella Point was our first goal. It’s also one of the best spots to witness the sunrise. I was now beginning to fade — my legs were tired and my feet were frozen but I was determined to get up this hill. I kept saying to myself, “c’mon Kev, keep going”.
We didn’t make it for sunrise but as the orange glow spilled over the clouds, we kept climbing — slow, aching, breathless. It was beautiful and brutal at the same time. Reaching Stella Point felt like a victory in itself — but it wasn’t over. Uhuru Peak - the top of Africa, still lay ahead.
The final push to Uhuru Peak was brutal. By this point, the altitude sickness truly set in. Dizzy, freezing, aching but our minds kept us moving. The struggle was real. Every step was a battle. And then…..we saw the sign.
Congratulations
You are now at Uhuru Peak
5,895m
I wanted it so badly and when we reached Uhuru Peak, pure joy and elation took over. Ben and Gonz were waiting for us and Gonz snapped a photo of us three as we reached the summit — still my favourite photo from the climb. We laughed, tears of joy fell, posed for photos. Jake and Gonz got naked.
The summit beers? They stayed unopened. We were all too sick to try, let alone finish one.
But we made it, we were standing on the Roof of Africa.
It was just an incredibly surreal feeling — no number of adjectives could describe the overwhelming sense of achievement I felt up there. Honestly, it was beyond words. Simply unreal.
Day 5 continued: Slipping Down the Mountain
Ben had already left at this point, he was sicker than all of us. The rest of us began descending back to base camp.
I tell you what: walking down after conquering a mountain — no matter how tall — is one of the best feelings in the world. You’re filled with this deep sense of accomplishment. The hard part is over. You walk down with pride — head held high, chest out, shoulders back — reflecting on what you’ve just achieved.
Well…...until you slip on your arse.
I lost count of how many times I slipped but each one was a funny reminder of how far we had come and how hard we worked to get there.
Even at high altitude, the weather was warming up and I ended up stripping off the multiple layers I had on. The head guide insisted I give them to the summit porter. “That’s what he’s here for,” he said.
I remember the summit porter telling us how much he enjoys the job.
“This is my office,” he said, smiling.
Not a bad place to work.
Somewhere on the way down, my mind wandered a bit. Was Sports Management the right career for me? Maybe. Maybe not. I guess that’s for ‘future Kev’ to figure out.
I was still dizzy and my headache worsened but nothing could take away from the immense joy I was feeling. Back at base camp we were welcomed with hugs, handshakes and heartfelt congratulations.
We had time for a one-hour nap and upon waking up I felt terrible — like the worst hangover you can imagine.
After lunch, we began our descent towards Mweka Camp. It was all downhill from here, tough on the legs but the lower we went, the more the altitude sickness began to wear off. We kept catching up to the same group, turning our descent into an unofficial game of leapfrog.
Once we reached Mweka Camp, we found our tents already set up like usual. Most of us could barely eat — we had lost our appetites and began dreaming of burgers back in Arusha. But with the altitude behind us, it was finally time to crack open those well-deserved beers before crashing for the night.
Day 6: The Final Song
Our final day on the mountain.
Our time here was coming to an end and the only thing ahead of us was the finish line — Mweka Gate. The hard part was behind us, no more steep climbs or altitude headaches. The descent took us through lush rainforest as the trail became a little muddier underfoot. The tall trees shielded us from the hot sun — a stark contrast from the days prior. There was a different vibe in the air — no more struggle, just a relaxed walk down.
We stopped to witness one final unforgettable moment — the guides and porters gathered to perform a song and dance. Full of heart and humour, their voices rose through the forest, encapsulating all the challenges and triumphs of the climb. A beautiful, heartfelt goodbye, topping off an incredible six days.
Throughout the climb, we found out just how much they adore Bob Marley. For the final stretch, it felt fitting to play his music, with ‘Three Little Birds’ kicking us off.
I want to take a moment to acknowledge the hard work they do – the true heroes of this climb. They carried everything, set up camp, cooked our meals and kept our spirits high. Without them, none of this would’ve been possible.
With the finish line in sight, we put on ‘We are the Champions’ as we walked through Mweka Gate. We were greeted with hugs, smiles and cheers — a moment of triumph. We had done it.
We soaked up the moment before boarding the bus back to Arusha with Bob Marley still blasting through the speaker — burgers and beers waiting for us.
Beyond the Summit
I still look back on my time climbing Kilimanjaro as one of the coolest things I’ve ever done. It was part of my first solo trip abroad and it set the tone for all the adventures to come.
It sparked something in me from the day I left Tanzania. I knew that travelling would be one of my greatest passions. As a kid and throughout my teenage years, I had dreamed of exploring the world.
Kilimanjaro taught me that through struggle, something beautiful can come out of it. And if you want something enough, you will find a way to make it happen.
Sharing the experience with some absolute legends was the cherry on top. Whenever our paths cross, we pick up right where we left off. This climb forged a bond that runs deep.
I will probably never climb Kilimanjaro again — the whole been there, done that thing — but if I ever did, I hope it’s a little easier getting up that hill to Stella Point.