Brian Lett
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Fundraising for Great Ormond Street Hospital Children's Charity
Story
The Kili Experience DIY
This is for adults only.
How to replicate the Kili DIY experience from the comfort of your own home:
1. Set treadmill at 45 degree angle at speed 3 kph and walk for 8 hours
2. Place treadmill in freezer and disconnect lights
3. Make several small pin pricks in a plastic bag and place over head
4. Tie leather belt around chest and tighten until painful
5. Try to drink frozen water through a straw Do all the above without having slept for 5 days. Have fun and stay safe. The Kili2010 Team Leaving final camp this morning with Kili in the background Hello everybody, I hope that you have been able to receive the first page of this email, which contains a photo of our final morning on Kilimajaro, and our recipe for replicating the experience – to be recommended only to the certifiably insane. Very many thanks for all your support. Please read the following comments on our journey, and it may, just, be possible for you to understand what we have all been through over the past week. Also, having done this, it is our unanimous opinion that the difficulties and dangers involved in climbing Kilimanjaro are generally grossly underestimated. We admire enormously the efforts of the Comic Relief Team which brought the Kili climb to public notice, but people should realise that each and every one of them put in a superhuman effort to achieve what they did. It is said that Chris Moyles trained with a personal trainer every day for six months before going. We hear of students and even school children attempting this climb with totally inadequate preparation. We saw many “disasters waiting to happen” when we were on the mountain. We wish to warn everybody that Kilimanjaro is a mountain to be respected. Any team that endeavours to tackle it should be well prepared, and aware of the dangers. People die on Kilimanjaro every year. The squeamish should not read on! We were in the hands of one of the most reputable travel companies for this kind of thing. Only one of their clients died on Kili last year, and so far this year, everyone has survived, as all of our group did. We had with us an excellent doctor, supplied by the company, who had extensive experience of climbing Kilimanjaro. All of us are very grateful to Dr Kirsty Watson, who took us safely up, and brought us safely down. We arrived at the foot of the mountain after a long and tiring journey – eight hours on the plane to Nairobi, and eleven hours on a minibus on the drive down and across the border into Tanzania. We went up the mountain by the less well known Rongai route, which takes four and a half days up, and one and a half days down. Most parties go by a shorter route, and therefore have less time to acclimatise to the altitude, which is extreme. It is usually altitude sickness which kills. The difficulty, of course, with taking the longer route is that it involves more nights sleeping in tents in camps in the African “bush” or “outback”. Camp life does not suit everybody. One of the unpleasant practicalities of life is sanitation and personal hygene. There are, of course, no flushing loos. The camp sites are served by a few “deep drop” loos, which are generally wooden huts, where you have to squat and aim for a hole about six inches square in the wooden floor. Not much fun, really, particularly if you have a dose of “Delhi belly” brought on by the change of diet and environment, or as a side effect of the recommended Diamox medication. No hot water or showers, of course. Just a bowl of lukewarm water for washing in the morning and evening. Repeated washing of the hands with anti-bacterial gel is necessary, and whenever anyone of us entered the mess tent, it was necessary to wash our hands first in the antiseptic solution provided outside the tent. Our team of African porters and guides were outstanding, and our meals were remarkable, considering the conditions in which they had to be prepared. Not all travel companies provide such high quality support. It is the only place in the world where I drink my tea with three or four heaped spoons of sugar. Maintaining one’s energy level is essential. It is also necessary to drink an enormous amount of water each day, to try and combat the lack of oxygen in the air. At the top of Kilimanjaro, the oxygen content of the air is reduced by fifty percent. Once we got to the top camp, a rocky, dusty desert called Camp Kibo, there was no local fresh water available. All water had to be carried up from below. The Diamox which we were recommended to take, again to battle altitude sickness, makes you pee endlessly – not conducive to a good night’s sleep. In my case, it also had the unhappy side effect of causing “Delhi belly”, and therefore leading to dehydration. Each night we arrived at a different, higher, camp, where the porters would have pitched our tents before our arrival. From the time that, after a ten hour walk, we reached Kikelewa Camp on the second night, at a height of 3,600 metres [11,811 feet], many of us were suffering from headache and nausea. The ritual of unpacking our sleeping mat and bag, and sorting our things out for the night became enormously tiring. Having unzipped my bag, and pulled out my things, I would then lie back and fight for oxygen before attempting to arrange them for the night. Getting undressed seemed to take an enormous amount of effort. Everything worked in slow motion. Leaving my tent to walk the short distance to the loos, or to the mess tent, I would instinctively start off at a normal pace, and would pull up fighting for breath a few moments later. The dust got everywhere. The third night [Mawenzi Narn Camp] we spent at 4,330 metres [14,202 feet], the fourth night [Kibo Camp] at 4,700 metres [15,416 feet]. Mt Kilimanjaro is a harsh and unwelcoming place. The summit is approached across a mountain desert known as the saddle. Below the summit is perched the Kibo Camp, from which the final assault is made. On the morning of 2nd July, we left Mawenzi Narn Camp at 7.30am to walk to Kibo Camp. This took us eight and a half hours, including the trek across the desert. We arrived at Kibo at 2.00pm. It was very cold. After lunch, we were ordered to our tents to rest. Most of us were in our sleeping bags by 3.30 pm, trying to sleep, or at least to rest. At 10.00pm we were “awoken”, and were given supper. Then at 11.30pm, we started our assault on the summit. To get to Uhuru, the highest point on Mt Kilimanjaro, we were to climb a further 1,200 metres straight up the very steep incline. We should reach Gilman’s Point by dawn [about 6.00am] and Uhuru by 7.30am. So, having done eight and a half hours in the morning, we were now to do a further eight hours through the night. Oxygen was sparse at Kibo Camp. it seemed increasingly non-existent as we climbed up. Mt Kilimanjaro beat me on summit night. At some time between 1.30 and 2.00am, my fuel tank was empty, and I could go no further. It wasn’t actually the nausea or the headache. I no longer had the energy to put one foot in front of the other. How much was due to altitude, how much due to the de-hydration brought on by “Delhi Belly”, I will never actually know. I was evacuated as one of the night’s many casualties back down to Kibo Camp. At Kibo, Barnabas, the porter who had half carried me down, put me into my tent, and took my boots off for me – I did not even have the energy to do that. I slept as I was, fully dressed. I have a vague recollection of awaking some time shortly before dawn, perhaps at 5.30am, and realising that my friends must still be climbing up that bloody mountain. Of our group of eleven, three were carried off the mountain, three got to Gilman’s Point, and five made it to Uhuru, together with the extraordinary Dr Kirsty Watson. They have my eternal admiration for their achievement. Everyone was back down to Kibo by about noon on the 3rd July. We had lunch at 1.00pm, and then trekked straight down to Hurumbaru Camp at 3,700 metres. The idea was, of course, to get everybody down to lower altitude as soon as possible, but the additional three hour trek was agonising for those who had been walking all night. We all successfully made it down, passing on the way the helicopter pad that they use for evacuating the bodies and the very sick. On the 4th July, we walked off the mountain. I was very fortunate to be a member of such a strong [and humorous] group. I pay tribute to all of the friends with whom I walked. We all hated it most of the time, but the individual and collective strength of character of the group got us through what was a very tough experience. I love you all! So why did I do it? Why take two weeks unpaid leave and go through all of that? I am 61 next month, and could have been sitting on my sofa drinking beer and watching the World Cup. I did it for the Great Ormond Street Hospital Children’s Charity. For those of you who have already made donations, thank you very much indeed. I did my best for you! For those who may have a little cash to spare, and/or who have not donated yet, the link to my justgiving.com page is below. If you were sitting on the sofa watching the World Cup, or in the pub, or even perhaps there in South Africa, could you now please spare a thought for those of us who were not doing that, but who were battling with a harsh and dusty mountain, to raise money for the children of Great Ormond Street Hospital.
2. Place treadmill in freezer and disconnect lights
3. Make several small pin pricks in a plastic bag and place over head
4. Tie leather belt around chest and tighten until painful
5. Try to drink frozen water through a straw Do all the above without having slept for 5 days. Have fun and stay safe. The Kili2010 Team Leaving final camp this morning with Kili in the background Hello everybody, I hope that you have been able to receive the first page of this email, which contains a photo of our final morning on Kilimajaro, and our recipe for replicating the experience – to be recommended only to the certifiably insane. Very many thanks for all your support. Please read the following comments on our journey, and it may, just, be possible for you to understand what we have all been through over the past week. Also, having done this, it is our unanimous opinion that the difficulties and dangers involved in climbing Kilimanjaro are generally grossly underestimated. We admire enormously the efforts of the Comic Relief Team which brought the Kili climb to public notice, but people should realise that each and every one of them put in a superhuman effort to achieve what they did. It is said that Chris Moyles trained with a personal trainer every day for six months before going. We hear of students and even school children attempting this climb with totally inadequate preparation. We saw many “disasters waiting to happen” when we were on the mountain. We wish to warn everybody that Kilimanjaro is a mountain to be respected. Any team that endeavours to tackle it should be well prepared, and aware of the dangers. People die on Kilimanjaro every year. The squeamish should not read on! We were in the hands of one of the most reputable travel companies for this kind of thing. Only one of their clients died on Kili last year, and so far this year, everyone has survived, as all of our group did. We had with us an excellent doctor, supplied by the company, who had extensive experience of climbing Kilimanjaro. All of us are very grateful to Dr Kirsty Watson, who took us safely up, and brought us safely down. We arrived at the foot of the mountain after a long and tiring journey – eight hours on the plane to Nairobi, and eleven hours on a minibus on the drive down and across the border into Tanzania. We went up the mountain by the less well known Rongai route, which takes four and a half days up, and one and a half days down. Most parties go by a shorter route, and therefore have less time to acclimatise to the altitude, which is extreme. It is usually altitude sickness which kills. The difficulty, of course, with taking the longer route is that it involves more nights sleeping in tents in camps in the African “bush” or “outback”. Camp life does not suit everybody. One of the unpleasant practicalities of life is sanitation and personal hygene. There are, of course, no flushing loos. The camp sites are served by a few “deep drop” loos, which are generally wooden huts, where you have to squat and aim for a hole about six inches square in the wooden floor. Not much fun, really, particularly if you have a dose of “Delhi belly” brought on by the change of diet and environment, or as a side effect of the recommended Diamox medication. No hot water or showers, of course. Just a bowl of lukewarm water for washing in the morning and evening. Repeated washing of the hands with anti-bacterial gel is necessary, and whenever anyone of us entered the mess tent, it was necessary to wash our hands first in the antiseptic solution provided outside the tent. Our team of African porters and guides were outstanding, and our meals were remarkable, considering the conditions in which they had to be prepared. Not all travel companies provide such high quality support. It is the only place in the world where I drink my tea with three or four heaped spoons of sugar. Maintaining one’s energy level is essential. It is also necessary to drink an enormous amount of water each day, to try and combat the lack of oxygen in the air. At the top of Kilimanjaro, the oxygen content of the air is reduced by fifty percent. Once we got to the top camp, a rocky, dusty desert called Camp Kibo, there was no local fresh water available. All water had to be carried up from below. The Diamox which we were recommended to take, again to battle altitude sickness, makes you pee endlessly – not conducive to a good night’s sleep. In my case, it also had the unhappy side effect of causing “Delhi belly”, and therefore leading to dehydration. Each night we arrived at a different, higher, camp, where the porters would have pitched our tents before our arrival. From the time that, after a ten hour walk, we reached Kikelewa Camp on the second night, at a height of 3,600 metres [11,811 feet], many of us were suffering from headache and nausea. The ritual of unpacking our sleeping mat and bag, and sorting our things out for the night became enormously tiring. Having unzipped my bag, and pulled out my things, I would then lie back and fight for oxygen before attempting to arrange them for the night. Getting undressed seemed to take an enormous amount of effort. Everything worked in slow motion. Leaving my tent to walk the short distance to the loos, or to the mess tent, I would instinctively start off at a normal pace, and would pull up fighting for breath a few moments later. The dust got everywhere. The third night [Mawenzi Narn Camp] we spent at 4,330 metres [14,202 feet], the fourth night [Kibo Camp] at 4,700 metres [15,416 feet]. Mt Kilimanjaro is a harsh and unwelcoming place. The summit is approached across a mountain desert known as the saddle. Below the summit is perched the Kibo Camp, from which the final assault is made. On the morning of 2nd July, we left Mawenzi Narn Camp at 7.30am to walk to Kibo Camp. This took us eight and a half hours, including the trek across the desert. We arrived at Kibo at 2.00pm. It was very cold. After lunch, we were ordered to our tents to rest. Most of us were in our sleeping bags by 3.30 pm, trying to sleep, or at least to rest. At 10.00pm we were “awoken”, and were given supper. Then at 11.30pm, we started our assault on the summit. To get to Uhuru, the highest point on Mt Kilimanjaro, we were to climb a further 1,200 metres straight up the very steep incline. We should reach Gilman’s Point by dawn [about 6.00am] and Uhuru by 7.30am. So, having done eight and a half hours in the morning, we were now to do a further eight hours through the night. Oxygen was sparse at Kibo Camp. it seemed increasingly non-existent as we climbed up. Mt Kilimanjaro beat me on summit night. At some time between 1.30 and 2.00am, my fuel tank was empty, and I could go no further. It wasn’t actually the nausea or the headache. I no longer had the energy to put one foot in front of the other. How much was due to altitude, how much due to the de-hydration brought on by “Delhi Belly”, I will never actually know. I was evacuated as one of the night’s many casualties back down to Kibo Camp. At Kibo, Barnabas, the porter who had half carried me down, put me into my tent, and took my boots off for me – I did not even have the energy to do that. I slept as I was, fully dressed. I have a vague recollection of awaking some time shortly before dawn, perhaps at 5.30am, and realising that my friends must still be climbing up that bloody mountain. Of our group of eleven, three were carried off the mountain, three got to Gilman’s Point, and five made it to Uhuru, together with the extraordinary Dr Kirsty Watson. They have my eternal admiration for their achievement. Everyone was back down to Kibo by about noon on the 3rd July. We had lunch at 1.00pm, and then trekked straight down to Hurumbaru Camp at 3,700 metres. The idea was, of course, to get everybody down to lower altitude as soon as possible, but the additional three hour trek was agonising for those who had been walking all night. We all successfully made it down, passing on the way the helicopter pad that they use for evacuating the bodies and the very sick. On the 4th July, we walked off the mountain. I was very fortunate to be a member of such a strong [and humorous] group. I pay tribute to all of the friends with whom I walked. We all hated it most of the time, but the individual and collective strength of character of the group got us through what was a very tough experience. I love you all! So why did I do it? Why take two weeks unpaid leave and go through all of that? I am 61 next month, and could have been sitting on my sofa drinking beer and watching the World Cup. I did it for the Great Ormond Street Hospital Children’s Charity. For those of you who have already made donations, thank you very much indeed. I did my best for you! For those who may have a little cash to spare, and/or who have not donated yet, the link to my justgiving.com page is below. If you were sitting on the sofa watching the World Cup, or in the pub, or even perhaps there in South Africa, could you now please spare a thought for those of us who were not doing that, but who were battling with a harsh and dusty mountain, to raise money for the children of Great Ormond Street Hospital.
25th June, last night at home before......
We fly out early on Sunday morning from Heathrow, so tomorrow night will be in London. I say goodbye to the delights of Devon and my family tomorrow afternoon and off I go!
Kilimanjaro is not easy to get to, we fly to Nairobi, and then there is an eight hour bus journey down across the Tanzanian border. We spend the night at the bottom of the mountain, and then on 29th June, up we go!
I cannot remember when I last slept in a tent, so five nights on the mountain will be interesting!
Up, up and away.
Thank you all very much for your support for Great Ormond Street. When it gets really bloody, that will make it all worthwhile. You are all stars.
Update 13th June 2010
Well, two weeks tonight, we will have arrived in Nairobi, en route to the mountain. After all the training, my body parts are feeling decidedly aged, but this is always the worst time, the waiting over the last few days. Not looking forward to five nights sleeping in tents on the mountain, with "deep drop" loos, very much looking forward to making it to the summit [I hope]. Had the jabs, got the pills for the mountain, want to be there and to get started! Leave the bus pass behind, forget the arthritis, Kili here I come!!
Update 6/5/10
It is really beginning to hurt. Three hours over the Devon hills with a 30lb pack, as many times a week as I can. On the wagon now until the job is done. Seven and a half weeks to go.
Update 21/3/10: Training is going well. I have survived Christmas, and with just three months to go now, it is all getting very serious. They told us last Thursday that it may be minus 20 degrees at the top!!
The event and the reason: I am taking unpaid leave and am attempting to climb Mount Kilimanjaro, Africa's highest mountain, between 27th June and 6th July 2010. Why? In order to raise money for the Great Ormond Street Hospital Children's Charity. My target is £10,000. All the money that I raise will go to G.O.S.H.C.C., subject only to this website's small administration charge.
Great Ormond Street Hospital daily saves the lives of, or creates meaningful life for, our children. Its Children's Charity needs your help and support, and anything that you feel able to donate will make a difference to the work that it is able to do.
Kilimanjaro is 5985 metres [?19,350 feet] high. Those who climb it [and unlike some, we will be walking all the way!] often suffer from altitude sickness - a simple lack of enough oxygen. As some of you will know, I have spent quite a lot of time in recent years climbing in the Italian mountains. The highest that I have ever been is 6,500 feet. Kilimanjaro is three times higher!
I have no idea whether altitude sickness will affect me. If it does, you can be assured that I will suffer long before I allow it to knock me back. I aim to stand on the summit of Kilimanjaro at dawn on 4th July 2010 [and perhaps become the oldest barrister to have climbed it?].
Please help me to help them - all those small or tiny children whom G.O.S.H.C.C. helps! The work of the Great Ormond Street Hospital is simply amazing.
Donating through JustGiving is simple, fast and totally secure. Your details are safe with JustGiving – they’ll never sell them on or send unwanted emails. Once you donate, they’ll send your money directly to the charity and make sure Gift Aid is reclaimed on every eligible donation by a UK taxpayer. So it’s the most efficient way to donate - I raise more, whilst saving time and cutting costs for the charity.
So please dig deep and donate now.