Atthe age of60,Dr.MiltAllen is still learning.His most recent classroom, however,was an unlikely one:Mount Kilimanjaro.
The chair of the 鶹Ʒ Department of Music began his ascent of the mountain, which isthe highestsingle free-standing mountain in the world,onDec. 13 andreachedthesummitDec. 18.
“I think you learn from anything,”Allen said.“Without question,(the climb)put things in perspective,especially whenyouhave a life-threatening experience andthink you mightnot come downfrom the mountain.”
Mount Kilimanjaro is a dormant volcanolocatedin Tanzania, Africa.鶹Ʒ30,000 peopleattemptto summit the mountain annually,withabout 60percent completing the climb(in a non-pandemic year).
A few days into the climb,Allenbegan to fight altitude sickness. Thesevere nauseafrom AltitudeMountainSickness (AMS)prohibited him from eating,and he alsoexperiencedthe beginnings of edema, the buildup of fluid in the brain, lungs andextremities. The health struggles were compounded by the physical reality of climbing a mountain, including lower oxygen levels.
“Thethirdfull day ofclimbing,altitude sicknessemotionally got us,” he said. “What was compounding it was we were burning 4,000 to 5,000 calories a day, and I was ingesting nothing. You’re saying to yourself, ‘Don’t think about it, don’t focus on it’ because medical help isn’t there.They carry an oxygen tank, but the only time they use it is if you’re coming downthe mountainon a stretcher.
“I kept telling myself,‘30,000 people climb it a year, only 30 die. Victory not without toil. Keep going.’”
The decision to climbMount Kilimanjaro, also called “Kili,” grew out of a perfectstorm.
“It’s been a very challenging 18 months,” Allen said. “This fall, I hit the big 6-0,and we were in the middle of a major pandemic.(Climbing Kilimanjaro) hasbeen something to look forward to.
“I figured, ‘Why not?’I’ma runner,cyclistand former triathlete. That mountain’s beenkind of holleringat me since Istarted goingto Africa. I had to see why it was calling.”
While he has been cycling and doing triathlons for almost two decades, Allenis not an experienced mountaineer.
“I haven’t climbed a mountain in my adult life,” Allen said, but felt his baseline of physical activity set him up for success.
In addition to his cycling and running, he addedtrekkingtohis normal routine, completing between 100 to 130 miles per week.
“With hiking I would go out toHorsethief Trail atKanopolisLake, which was theclosest thing toKilimanjaroI could find around here,” he saidwith a laugh. “I would do the outward loop a couple timesand knock out from 12to15 miles in a morning.”
Thetotaldistancecovering“Kili” wasmanageable— 42 miles — but Allen said he knew hecouldn’ttrain for the altitude on the flatlands of Kansas.
“It’s one thing to go toKanopolisand knock out 12 miles. It’s another thing to knock outfivemiles that contains 40to45 percent grades and vertical drops,” he said.
From the beginning, climbingKilimanjaro was different than the YouTube video tutorialsAllenwatched.
“We were five minutes in, and the heavens opened up. It just poured,”hesaid. “Richie(another climber)and I discovered thiswasnot at all like theYouTubevideos we had seen. After two hours of pouring rain, there wasstillan hour tohike to get toour firstcamp.”
All climbers are required to have a guide and support crew for the ascent.While initially he planned to climb solowith the support crew,Allenwas askedto join another climber from Arubafor the adventureonce he arrived in Africa.His climbing partnerRichiewas an experiencedtrekker,who hikedan average of 20 km per dayduring previous climbs inPeru and Chile.
“After the first two days, he said ‘This is nothing like (Peru or Chile),’” Allen said. “He said it was way more intense. He did not expect it to beas intense.Neitherof us did.”
Thegruelingexperience bonded the climbers and crew quickly.With hisshoulder-lengthmane of white hair and status of oldest in the group, the crewbegancalling Allen “Papa,”an informal term for “father” inthe region’s native language,Swahili.
Following two days of steady climbing, Allen said he awoke the second night“at 2 a.m. and my heart was beating so fast I couldn’t sleep,” he said. “I was trying to calm myself, but the air was getting thin. I thought, ‘This could be it. The trip could be over. Thisis areally dangeroussituation.’”
After a rough night, the group faced a5-mile climb that was supposed to take a maximum of six hours.
“We take off,andI’m in bad shape,” Allen said.“The air was getting thinner, I hadn’t eaten breakfast, I couldn’t drink. We were movingveryslow. Theguideswere watching me and checking me, ‘Papa, you good? Papa, don’t sleep.’
“By the time we get toLavaTower, both of us were pretty rough. I couldn’t talk. I couldn’t eat.”
Because he was fighting altitude sickness, theday’s climb took nine hours. The pattern of longer days of climbing continued for the remainder of the ascent.
Increased altitude was notthe only obstacle. Thejourney involvedhiking throughfive climate zones:rainforest,heather,moorland,alpinedesert andarctic zones.
“The ascents and descents weregettingtougher — much tougher. The air was thinner,” Allen said. “We were getting anxious because we were getting close.We’reat altitudeshigher than Pike’s Peak.
As the days passed and the climbing intensified, the team shifted from the casual “Papa” to theendearingSwahiliterm of father, “Baba,”when referring to Allen.The affection wasmutual. Allen said the expertise of the guide and porters was essential for the climb.A special bond was forged with one of the porters,Hussein.
“On summit night,I would walk three to five minutes, and I would collapse on a rock,” he said. “Husseinwould come over and singme songs and say, ‘Baba don’t sleep.’He and another porter, Saleem,tried to keep me warm. I couldn’t get upto move without their help. They would lift me up. At one point, Ijustcouldn’tmove. Those guys, twice, put my arms around them and drug me for 20 yards.Then I found a bit more strength.”
The climb to the summit began ondaysixof the journey. In order to reach the19,341 footsummitofUhuru Peakat sunrise, the group set off before midnight.Allen said he knew climbing the final3 mileswould be grueling, both physically and emotionally.
“I’dbeen moving sick for three or four days,and they can see I’m struggling,” he said. “I had already gone deeper than I’ve ever had (to go before).I’ve never gone below the well that far or that much.”
Allen continued his slow climb.鶹Ʒ three hours into thepre-dawn ascent, his fellow climberexpressed concern.
“Richie pulls the head guy over and said, ‘He’s dying, you need to take him down,’” Allen said. “There was a lot of discussion. Amos, the lead guide,came over and asked me if I wanted to go down. I said, ‘No.’
“I was second guessing everything. I told myself, ‘All this time and you’re not going to make it. You’ve come so far and not finished.’My thought was,‘If I bail now,it will be acrushing defeat, butIjustcan’t do thedescentin the dark.’”
The climbers were in an arctic zone,in the dark,with temperaturesand wind chill combining for10 to 20 degrees below freezing.
“I thought,‘I’ll keep moving forward until I either pass out or it’s daylight. If it’s daylight, I candescendsafely,’” Allen said.
He didn’t pass out, but at one point,Allen said he started to slide sidewaysoff of the path.
“I feltHussein and Saleemreach out and grab me.They just pulledme up,satmeon a rockbreathing hard and notsaying a word,”hesaid.“It was pretty clear what almost happened. Finally, after alittlebit,Husseinreaches over, puts his arm around me and hugs me really tight and kisses me on theside of myhead and says,‘Baba, please take care.’”
Thetumultuousclimb continued.
“Before the sun rose, I felt I wasn’t going to make it,” Allen said. “Not only was I not going to make it, I thought I was going to die on the mountain.Mentally, I was saying my goodbyes.”
As the climb approached the six-hour mark, the sun began to rise.
“For me, daylight, seeing it the peak, I was redeemed,” Allen said. “I thought, ‘Maybe I have a shot.’”
He kept pushing forward, minute by minute, until he heard familiar voicesof the rest of the climbing party who completed the summit.
The victoryof reaching the summitwas, indeed, worth the toil.
“When I reached the top, everything fell away for a brief moment,” he said. “The pain, the tired, the pressure, the fear: I had made it. I had summitted MountKilimanjaro. I wasliterallyfloating above the clouds.”
Allen saidcresting the summit was about more than the physicalascent.
“Itgives themountains you climb in your personal life and professional life a little different perspective,” he said.
It also taught lessons about leaning intoadversity.
“I wanted to make a statement about fear and challenge, patience and perseverance, love and belief,” Allen said. “I am thinking of students and faculty. I thought by at least attempting to climb the mountain and overcome that obstacle, if it even helps one student, say, ‘I can do this(whatever it may be),’ then it’s worth it.
“That’s whyweteach. That’s whywe’re here.”
Story by Karen Bonar