When I wake up at 5 to go visit the outhouse, the moon, a couple of days until full, has gone down and the stars are magnificent. When I return to the tent, 
I grab the camera to get a picture of the mountain silhouetted against the star-studded sky. It’s cold and it takes a few tries to get the focus and exposure right in the darkness and my fingers are frozen when I go back into the tent to get warm in my sleeping bag.
I grab the camera to get a picture of the mountain silhouetted against the star-studded sky. It’s cold and it takes a few tries to get the focus and exposure right in the darkness and my fingers are frozen when I go back into the tent to get warm in my sleeping bag.
But I can’t go back to sleep and after tossing and turning for a couple of hours, the sun had come up and people had begun to stir, making noises in the cooking tent next door. I have begun to feel extremely nauseous and I get up, hoping it will make me feel better but find myself instead on the verge of throwing up. The rest of the morning is not pleasant and although I have nothing in my stomach I proceed to empty it out another couple of times. I am certainly not going to let this sickness stop me from climbing the mountain, though, so I assure the guide that although I’ve just thrown up, I’m feeling ok and I manage to eat some of the porridge that we have for breakfast every morning and Fredi convinces me to try to eat some of the singed bread, the smell of which certainly does not help my stomach but I eat a piece to make him happy and then we pack up and get ready for the day’s hike.
The strange thing is that as soon as we begin hiking, I fell better and again stray off the path slightly onto the volcanic scree to take photos.
We hike through the mist much of the time, but it’s a short day. After only three hours of climbing, only the last part of which was very steep, we reach the base camp, Barafu at 4600m. We eat lunch (cucumber soup as usual), my mom puts on every piece of clothing she brought against the cold and we sleep in preparation for tonight’s nighttime ascent.
We hike through the mist much of the time, but it’s a short day. After only three hours of climbing, only the last part of which was very steep, we reach the base camp, Barafu at 4600m. We eat lunch (cucumber soup as usual), my mom puts on every piece of clothing she brought against the cold and we sleep in preparation for tonight’s nighttime ascent.
We wake up for dinner when they bring the bowls of hot hand-washing water
(as usual when it’s cold, and it certainly is, Karyn wants to be tiny so she can get in) but my mom doesn’t leave her sleeping bag. The whole camp has been engulfed by the clouds and a light hail or snow has begun falling. Food is different tonight, though: a potato stew is all we have for dinner. I have a few bowls (and one more at Fredi’s insistence) but my mom, in her sleeping bag, has only one small bowl. And we go back to sleep again to get every possible minute of sleep before we must wake up to begin the last climb.
(as usual when it’s cold, and it certainly is, Karyn wants to be tiny so she can get in) but my mom doesn’t leave her sleeping bag. The whole camp has been engulfed by the clouds and a light hail or snow has begun falling. Food is different tonight, though: a potato stew is all we have for dinner. I have a few bowls (and one more at Fredi’s insistence) but my mom, in her sleeping bag, has only one small bowl. And we go back to sleep again to get every possible minute of sleep before we must wake up to begin the last climb.
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