Above the Tree Line

I went to Tanzania to climb the highest mountain in Africa, standing on its own, rising up and towering about everything around it. I needed to see what it felt like to be at the top.

At the bottom, everything was green. Thick trees, wet air. It felt alive. You could hear birds, insects, people talking. There was noise everywhere.

I remember taking the first step from base camp. It was just like any other hike I'd ever done, but at the same time, it was completely different.

As we got higher things began to slowly change. The trees got shorter. The air got thinner. The green started to fade. It felt like the mountain was stripping away life the further you climbed, from both the mountain and your mind.

I stayed in a red tent. It was simple. Just enough space to lie down. The world got small in that tent: one sleeping bag, a little bit of gear, and the sound of your own breathing.

At night the temperature dropped fast. You could feel it through the ground. Zipping the tent shut felt like closing yourself off from everything outside. And outside, there was nothing: no wind, no animals, no distant noise. Just silence. In a strange way it felt loud because I was not used to it.

In the mornings, I’d unzip the tent and step outside. Every day looked different, like we had moved into a new place overnight. Same mountain, but it didn’t feel the same.

The night before the summit the mood changed. Everyone knew what was coming the next day. You could feel it. People weren’t talking much, not because they had nothing to say, but because they were thinking about the climb, trying to save energy.

I lay in the tent but didn’t really sleep. I just stared into the dark, thinking about the hours ahead. About whether I was ready to finish the climb.

The guides woke us at midnight. It was cold. Dark. We started walking with headlamps on. It was just a line of small lights moving up the mountain. We likely weren't visible from the ground, but I image we looked like a little team of ants. Occasionally, you would see lights turn back. The higher you got, the more lights turned back. I can’t remember if that made me more determined or less confident.

All I knew was: keep moving. Steady. Step after step. I could not focus on anything else.

At some point, my body just kept going, despite the fatigue. I stopped thinking about how tired I was, and just kept moving. The final climb took about six hours.

When we got to the top, the sun was starting to rise. Everything changed in that moment. The light hit the snow. The sky opened up. And all the effort, the sweat, the aches, the long walk up, it all melted away like the snow.

It felt quiet again. But different this time. Lighter. Gravity seemed to disappear.

In that moment, the only thing I felt was freedom.

~Shaun S.