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Clambering down from the rickety base-camp bunk-bed, I turn off the 2am alarm and wonder vaguely what was going through my mind when I packed for this trip. Already shivering in the frigid early morning air, I blearily consider my woefully inadequate clothing options. Let me sum it up for you like this: I'm about to climb to the summit of the highest mountain in South East Asia and I don't even have dry underwear to put on. A t-shirt still wet from yesterday's climb, a pair of light running shoes, a thin jumper, rain-jacket, quick-dry travel trousers, a beanie, gloves & a make-shift scarf (the bandanna I used in India to filter out road-dust) complete my rag-tag ensemble. The up-side is that I don't have to decide what to wear; I just put on every single thing I have with me. As I pull them on, wincing as the damp t-shirt clings to my skin, I wonder just how cold it will be up there. I've been told it often dips below freezing. Should I be worried about the fact that I don't have any boxers to wear, and only very thin trousers? Is frostbite a possibility?! In my sleep-befuddled state, I actually start to genuinely worry about this.

Climbing Kinabalu

Michael Meadows
2007-01-23 12:14:54

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the altitude hit her quite hard - headache, vomiting and so on - soon after leaving base camp and she had to turn back.

The first half of the summit climb is a hike similar to the rest of the mountain's trails - some stairs, some rocky paths. The second half is much more interesting - thick white ropes snake enticingly up steep rock faces, drawing you ever onwards. Pulling yourself up these ropes, trying to avoid slippery patches of wet rock in the dying beam of your torch, is a lot of fun and also takes the strain off your legs for a while. The climb seemed to go by fairly quickly and almost before I knew it I'd reached the summit. Gareth was there already, along with half a dozen others, and we had a celebratory drink of cold water, (which sounded much better to me at that stage than champagne!). Vananh arrived soon after, cheeks pink with the cold, and joined us on our summit rock. Sitting there, huddled companionably with the other climbers, we watched as the sun rose slowly, lazily casting its first weak, cold beams of light over the sea of clouds beneath us. It was a very special experience, and one to which my photos do not do any justice at all to. I think I sat there for around an hour, nibbling on chocolate bars, drinking in the view, and wondering what had happened to Daeng. Rowdy appeared eventually, to let us know she'd headed back to base camp already, and we decided to start our descent too.

The climb down was easier, although one of my knees stiffened up and by the time I reached base-camp it was agony. After breakfast in the restaurant, we set off for the long climb down to the Park gates. I had to take the stairs shuffling sideways like an arthritic crab, and was quite a pathetic sight by the time I finally reached the very welcome sight of the gates. =P Now I know what walking will be like, as an old man. Gareth, on the other hand, had made the descent in some ridiculously fast time and then decided to jog the 2km back to our hostel rather than wait for the bus... =) He still has some training to do before he can match the professionals though. The Mount Kinabalu International Climbathon is used to determine the world champion of 'skyrunning', (racing at high altitude). Competitors run from the park gates to the summit, and then straight back down! And the current record time - wait for it... - is 2 hours and 37 minutes!! Unbelievable! Rowdy told us he'd entered it the year before and done it in 4 hours himself, (on a strict training diet of "beer and cigarettes" as he told us proudly). The Dragon indeed.

Hitching a ride back to Kota Kinabalu, we spent our last couple of days relaxing at the Tropicana and on the beaches of one of the nearby islands - a perfect end to our mountain-climbing adventure. Lying at sea-level, bathed in gloriously hot sunshine, it was almost hard to believe that I'd been over 4km up the day before, shivering in the cold above the clouds. I thoroughly enjoyed the experience and, (now that I can walk again), hope my next mountain won't be too far away. Kilimanjaro, Dad & Joel?... =)

PS. You owe me a coffee Mum.