To Barafu, the staging ground

Day 5 was our final push to the summit base camp. Until this point we hadn't earned the right to even consider the summit. The rain still hadn't given us a moment's reprieve, which didn't seem to dampen the Magumu's spirits — even in the worst weather you could always hear chat and laughter from their canvas tent. A quiet tent was the sign to be concerned.

The walk was steady and steep. The rain turned to sleet as we edged higher towards Barafu, and as we neared the final ridge it became heavy snow. Posing for photos was painful — every second the fingers lingered outside ski gloves there was real frostbite risk. Continual movement was the only way to stay warm.

We arrived at camp to a scene of ice, snow and haphazard rocks. Thank goodness for my pee bottle — no way I was venturing out at 2am into that. We were also starting to see real problems with the tents seeping moisture through the floor, mattresses turning wet, anything we set down soaking through. I used my pack cover to keep a layer between the floor and my kit, but it would only buy time.

We just had to endure until we summited early the next morning. It was going to be a really long night.