Climbing Kilimanjaro on Christmas Day

Sunrise over Africa from the crater rim of Mt. Kilimanjaro. This photo and all others by Bob McKerrow

Another kind of treasure waited to be found





In July 1978, I returned to Ethiopia to work for the International Red Cross on a large relief operation for two million famine-stricken people. Having previously climbed the two highest mountains in Ethiopia in 1974, Mt. Ras Dashan (4757 m) and Mt. Buahit (4267 m), I began pouring over maps of Africa to see where I might be able to climb during a week’s holiday at Christmas 1978.

During the many weeks I spent in the highlands of Ethiopia in the course of my work, I become fascinated

Listening to my Ethiopian colleagues telling numerous stories and legends of their country’s rich and ancient history, and I was surprised to hear numerous mentions of Kilimanjaro.

When in the capital I spent a lot of my evenings searching for written account of Kilimanjaro in Ethiopian history and after many months I located a publication in the Tanzanian Embassy which featured a reprint by Dr. R. Reusch in the Tanganyika Standard of February 10, 1828. It read “ For thousands of years these mountains have stood, becoming more and more interwoven with legends. Even in Abyssinia (pre-war name of Ethiopia), Mt. Kibo, the highest summit of Kilimanjaro, is known and one remarkable legend, told me beside the camp fire by old Abyssinian soldiers and hunters is connected with this snow clad mountain. When the first king of of Abyssinia, son of King Solomon and the Queen of Sheba, called Menelik I, who governed Tigre as Negusie-Negesshti (King of Kings) had completed his successful conquest of Shoa in southern Ethiopia, Somaliland, Kenya Colony and nor then Tanganyika, and was on his return journey bringing with him much spoils of wars he one day encamped on a desert-like stretch of land which unites Mt. Kibo and Mawenzi, at a height of 15,000 feet. He was old and tired of life and felt death drawing near. But because he was King he wanted to die as a King.
“ King I am and as King I wish to die,” he said to his followers One morning he bid his army farewell and accompanied by a few of his warlords and slaves, who carried his jewels and treasure, he began to ascend the mountain.

Kilimanjaro - King Menelik, Shipton, Hemingway and Valeria all fell in love with this mountain.
His soldiers below followed him with their eyes until he reached the boundary of the eternal snows where cloud encompassed him. In the evening the warlords returned without their King, for he had entered into the crater of the mountain with his slaves, jewels and treasure. And here he will sleep forever. But an offspring of his family will arise and restore the old glory of Ethiopian conquering all the land to the Rufiji River. He will ascend Mt. Kibo, find the jewels of Menelik I, among which will be the seal ring of Solomon which the old King has upon his finger. The ring he will put on his own hand and from this moment he will be endowed with the wisdom of Solomon. Also the heroic spirit of the old King will rest upon him. Thus says the legend.

Fired with the thoughts of treasure and the wisdom of Solomon I arrived at Marangu on December 16, 1978, a small village on the south-west slopes of Kilimanjaro. The base of Kilimanjaro measures 50 by 30 miles in an east-south-east direction. It consists of three major volcanic centres, Kibo 19,349 ft in the centre, Mawenzi 16,890 ft in the east, and Shira 13,140 in the west. Uhuru peak 19340 ft on Kibo, is the highest point in Africa.

Not having any climbing gear and clad only in street clothes when I arrived , I was lucky to be able to borrow a pair of climbing boots from a Bavarian geologist who had fortunately dislocated a shoulder. I hired some warmer clothes from the national park headquarters. I was fortunate finding a local farmer, Valerian, from the Chagga tribe who was keen to accompany me and carry fire wood and water for cooking.

Sign at the Kilimanjaro National Park headquarters/ (note spelling)
Valerian, like so many other Chagga, supplements his income by carrying loads, and if required will guide tourists in snow-free-conditions to Gilman;s point on the crater rim.
Living on the slopes of this great mountain the Chagga have a single finite clear focus on their country, a rare thing for African people whose eyes are so often fixed on stretches of undifferentiated bush or desert reaching indctermunatedly to the horizon. This gives the Chagga people a focus, a precise position in a single great mountain which is one of the most naturally fertile in Africa.

I had hoped to have a look perhaps climb one of the more interesting routes on Kilimanjaro but unseasonal weather over the whole of east- Africa had brought snow down to 12,000 feet. The first three days on the normal route is a delightful walk through constantly changing scenery: from 5000ft at Marangu to 15,450ft the last hut on the mountain.

The first day took us through rain forests comprising a variety of trees ferns with brambles and lichens growing in the trunks and branches. Occasionally we saw clusters of orchids, blue monkeys and small frightened birds. Between 8.000 and 12,000 feet the forest gradually changes to Podocarpus Milanjianus family and Hypernicum revolutum community. Around this altitude one meets with the first of three giant groundsels (photo opposite) endemic to Kilimanjaro (Scenico Johnsyonni), sometimes attaining a height of 30 feet.

The following day we emerged onto the upland grasslands. Here the everlasting flowers begin to become conspicuous. These grasslands almost extend to Horombo Hut at 12,299 feet surrounded by heath-like plants. On the third day we passed through alpine bogs dotted with giant Groundsel and giant Lobelia, a large short-lived herb which grows up to 12 feet. This landscape was identical to one I had seen four years earlier when climbing Mt. Ras Dashan in Ethiopia.


Mt.Mawenzi, from the saddle between Mt. Kibo and Mawenzi. Photo: Bob McKerrow

As we proceeded north over the seven miles between Mawenzi and Kibo, much of the distance being a saddle, the vegetation petered out to form an alpine desert. Here few plants survive because of the extremely low rainfall and temperature. The fresh snow had sorted the tourists out from the more adventurous leaving Valerian and I almost alone in the hut. The next morning we left the hut by moonlight at 1.30 am. It took us one and a half hours to reach Hans Meyer Cave which was completely full of snow. I thought of Eric Shipton and Bill Tilman who spent a night here in 1929 on their way to the summit. They also struck waist-deep snow and Tilman suffered from altitude sickness and vomited frequently.

From here on it was a steepish plod on snow-covered scree to Gilman’s Point at the crater rim, which we reached at 5.30 am in time to see a wild African sunrise.

At the crater rim of Kilimanjaro
Valerian heading towards Mt. Kibo. Photo: Bob McKerrow
Here the snow was very deep and the frozen crust would just support our weight. After the magnificent sunrise clouds began swirling over over the north-east crater rim as we headed towards Uhuru Peak a mile and a half away. With the rising temperatures we began breaking through the crust into deep powder snow.

The edge of the glacier on the crater rimTo avoid the fresh snow we traversed over a series of small peaks which had less snow an their wind-blown crests. Two hours of wading through waist deep snow, we furrowed ourselves to the summit.



Valerian, a local Chagga farmer, on the summit of Kibo Peak, the highest point on Mt. Kilimanjaro. Photo: Bob McKerrow

Our view down the mountain was obscured by cloud. But we could see the whole crater and surrounds but, because of the thick mantle of snow it looked so different, almost featureless, from previous photographs.
We dug into the four feet of snow which covered the summit and found the plaque installed many years ago which cites a speech of Mwalimu Julius Nyerere on Tanganyika’s independecane in 1961.
I thought of the great King Menelik and his buried treasure on this mountain. I think it best be left on the mountain for greed has already caused enough suffering in Africa.
I spent the last night in Tanzania with Valerian and his family. As happy children and piglets squealed around our feet and beer trickled down our throats, I thought that happiness like this is preferable to treasure.

Footnote: This article was rejected by Colin Monteath editor of the New Zealand Alpine Journal in 1978. Later, that illustrious North Island daily, the Manawatu Standard, published it in its Christmas Edition as a feature, on 24 December 1979.

Reaching the summit. A role model for International Women's Day.

This is a mountaineering love story like no other. A star-studded Hollywood cast are currently making a movie of the 1996 Mt. Everest tragedy where New Zealand climbers Rob Hall and Andy Harris died near the summit.This Working Title Everest movie is still in production.  It is due for release Feb 2015.

The movie features Hollywood stars Jake Gyllenhaal, Josh Brolin, and Sam Worthington

Since this tragedy, Jan Arnold, wife of Rob Hall has gone on to climb the seven highest peaks on seven continents.

The term ''conquering'' a mountain does not sit well with mountaineer and Nelson doctor Jan Arnold.
''I like to get on top of things, but I don't think that means anything is conquered in the process,'' she says.
She should know. She completed her goal of summiting the seven highest peaks in the seven continents last month, a trail that has taken 24 years and saw her travel to some of the world's remotest places.
''I would say, if your goal doesn't slightly take your breath away, you need to aim a little bit higher. It should slightly take your breath away.''
 It's also a journey that has taken her past the grief of losing her husband, world-renowned mountaineer Rob Hall , who died on Mt Everest in 1996 in a blizzard that claimed seven other lives.
Jan says a climber is at the mercy of the mountain, both its raw beauty and brutal force. 
She started climbing at 22 and, five years later, reached the first of her seven summits on Mt McKinley-Denali - on a date with Rob.  
''Normally people go out for dinner, but we went to Alaska. It was absolutely magic''.
She did not know then it would take more than two decades to complete the peaks but, being goal driven, it was something she ''really wanted to finish off''.
''I've got the peak bagging gene. You've either have it or you haven't,'' she says.

 
In 1993, she and Rob became the third married couple to stand at the highest point in the world. Photo left.
''Everest was really quite special. It was satisfying because I really didn't expect I was going to do it. I didn't go with the aim and certainly didn't think I could, because I was such a lousy acclimatiser,'' she says.
In January 1994, she went to Antarctica with Rob's guiding company Adventure Consultants. She not only got to climb Mt Vinson, but also visited the South Pole as a doctor accompanying a group of elderly adventurers.  
The same year she climbed Mt Kosciuszko in Australia  and Carstensz Pyramid-Puncak Jaya in Indonesia - there was some debate about which one was the tallest peak in Oceania, so she climbed both. 
Any further plans were put on hold in 1996. She was pregnant with the couple's daughter, Sarah, as the shocking events unfolded half a world away.

As he was trapped high on the mountain, Rob was able to talk to Jan on his radio through a satellite phone. They had three conversations. 
Grief was made easier because she had a chance to say goodbye, which many people don't, she says.
''When Rob died, or was going to die, there was nothing left unsaid - there wasn't stuff I wished I had said to him. 
''How lucky was I to speak to him? He could have died in a car accident and be gone and you don't get that chance to say anything, but we could connect.''
The last time she spoke to him, after a rescue party had to turn back, they shared their love for one another and he signed off: ''Sleep well, my sweetheart. Please don't worry too much.''
''The strangeness you've got of sitting in your house in Christchurch and talking - he is possibly the highest person on the ground alive in the world, but not for long,'' she says.
''I knew he was going to die, but I just felt lucky I had that chance to talk to him and I had his baby and for me it was like you have a part of someone when you have a child. 
''When she popped out, she just looked like him and she has his eyes and his big generous mouth and his long legs and his gentle nature - so daily I am reminded of him.
''It was a good death.''
She was proud of Rob, but there were other feelings, too.
''I was also quite weighed down with the feeling that one of his guides had died, two of his clients had died and I felt a responsibility to those families so, actually, my own grieving for Rob was on the back burner plus I had a baby, a new first baby so there was so much to do.
''My mind was quite occupied.''
It was only in recent years that she decided it was time to reconsider the remaining three mountains.
''I thought I need to do this before I am 50 because how long am I going to have this fitness?'' 
Jan went to Africa in September 2011,  climbing Mt Kilimanjaro with Sarah.

In 2011, Jan climbed Mt. Kilimanjaro with her 14 year old daughter Sarah.

She made her first attempt at Aconcagua in Argentina in January 2013. After reaching 6300m, about 600m below the summit, she had to turn back as altitude sickness set in.
Russia's Mt Elbrus was next in July 2013. She reached the peak, but getting off the mountain proved more dangerous.
A power cut had knocked out the ski lifts, and she had to get a lift in the back of a former army truck on a rough, steep track.
''I was just sitting on the tray of the truck and it bounced around and felt like it was going to go off the road and I thought 'Goodness, I have just been to the top of this peak not feeling really at risk and I am going to lose my life on this truck. If this truck rolls you know we are finished'.''
But she made it down, and set her sights on the remaining peak, a second attempt at  Aconcagua.

 Rob Hall right, with Gary Ball centre and Peter Hillary left, shortly after their ascent of Everest in 1990. Photo: Bob McKerrow

To overcome her acclimatisation problems, she headed to South America early and climbed the 5434m Cerro El Plomo  in Chile, a place of Inca human sacrifice.
On February 12, she made it to the top of Aconcagua, but not without it taking a toll. 
''When I look at photos of myself I was absolutely blue on the lips and I took this video and I am slurring my words,'' she says.
''I thought I cannot do this to my brain again - this is it. Luckily, I've done it now.''
She has experienced the full risk mountaineering carries with it. But, she wouldn't change a thing.
''I didn't ever rail against the fact that Rob had died,'' she says.
''I accepted it quite quickly because I had wondered if sometime that might be in the future.
''You marry an 8000m mountaineer, what do you expect? I think that protected me. But, heck, it was rich and it was alive and vibrant and it was so worth not avoiding. 
''You want to make the most of it while you have got it because you don't know how long it will be and it makes it all the more precious. 
''It sharpens, it clarifies, and it brightens.''
Despite achieving what most would consider a mammoth challenge, Jan says she is not in the league of technical climbers like New Zealanders Pat Deavoll , Lydia Bradey  and Paul and Shelley Hersey who are pushing the boundaries of never-before-climbed peaks. 
The more technical climbing ''scares the hell'' out of her. 
''These peaks are hard because they require stamina and physical fitness, but they are not groundbreaking in any sense and these last three peaks, if they had involved great risk to my life, I wouldn't do them because of my children.''
With two daughters, Sarah, 17  - who she was pregnant with when Rob died on Everest -  and Helena, 11, it was a balance between motherhood and chasing her goals. 
''Someone once said to me, 'Is Everest the hardest thing you have ever done?' and I actually said parenting a two-year-old is much harder,'' she says laughing.  
She loves the opportunities that climbing brings -  ''travelling the globe with a focus in mind and learning about the area and this planet of ridges and hollows '' - but also the challenges.
''It's cold, tent living for days and days and days. Your tent mat goes down and you wake up cold in the night. There's a storm outside, the wind is blowing, the tent is rattling around. It requires a focus. It requires confidence in the people around you and the logistics of the organisation you are with.'' 
Letting yourself off on the bad days and knowing when to dig in is crucial, she says.  
Mountaineering is something anyone can do with commitment and careful planning ''bit by bit'', she says.
''The really big things are breathtaking. You stand at the base of Everest and you go, 'It was so much work getting to this altitude, how I am going to get three and half kilometres above me vertically?' and the truth is, day by day, step by step, camp by camp.''

Jan Arnold completed the seven summits with support from Adventure Consultants and Mapua-based adventure company High Places.

I salute you Jan Arnold for your achievements, strength and sensitivity. You are a brilliant role model on International Women's day, and throughout the year.

 Thanks to KATE DAVIDSON of Fairfax media for permission to runs extracts from her article.

The mountains of AfrIca, Mt Ras Dashan and Kilimanjaro

Sunrise over Africa from the crater rim of Mt. Kilimanjaro. This photo and all others by Bob McKerrow

Another kind of treasure waited to be found


In July 1978, I returned to Ethiopia to work for the International Red Cross on a large relief operation for two million famine-stricken people. Having previously climbed the two highest mountains in Ethiopia in 1974, Mt. Ras Dashan (4757 m) and Mt. Buahit (4267 m), I began pouring over maps of Africa to see where I might be able to climb during a week’s holiday at Christmas 1978.

During the many weeks I spent in the highlands of Ethiopia in the course of my work, I become fascinated

Listening to my Ethiopian colleagues telling numerous stories and legends of their country’s rich and ancient history, and I was surprised to hear numerous mentions of Kilimanjaro.

When in the capital I spent a lot of my evenings searching for written account of Kilimanjaro in Ethiopian history and after many months I located a publication in the Tanzanian Embassy which featured a reprint by Dr. R. Reusch in the Tanganyika Standard of February 10, 1828. It read “ For thousands of years these mountains have stood, becoming more and more interwoven with legends. Even in Abyssinia (pre-war name of Ethiopia), Mt. Kibo, the highest summit of Kilimanjaro, is known and one remarkable legend, told me beside the camp fire by old Abyssinian soldiers and hunters is connected with this snow clad mountain. When the first king of of Abyssinia, son of King Solomon and the Queen of Sheba, called Menelik I, who governed Tigre as Negusie-Negesshti (King of Kings) had completed his successful conquest of Shoa in southern Ethiopia, Somaliland, Kenya Colony and nor then Tanganyika, and was on his return journey bringing with him much spoils of wars he one day encamped on a desert-like stretch of land which unites Mt. Kibo and Mawenzi, at a height of 15,000 feet. He was old and tired of life and felt death drawing near. But because he was King he wanted to die as a King.
“ King I am and as King I wish to die,” he said to his followers One morning he bid his army farewell and accompanied by a few of his warlords and slaves, who carried his jewels and treasure, he began to ascend the mountain.

Kilimanjaro - King Menelik, Shipton, Hemingway and Valeria all fell in love with this mountain.
His soldiers below followed him with their eyes until he reached the boundary of the eternal snows where cloud encompassed him. In the evening the warlords returned without their King, for he had entered into the crater of the mountain with his slaves, jewels and treasure. And here he will sleep forever. But an offspring of his family will arise and restore the old glory of Ethiopian conquering all the land to the Rufiji River. He will ascend Mt. Kibo, find the jewels of Menelik I, among which will be the seal ring of Solomon which the old King has upon his finger. The ring he will put on his own hand and from this moment he will be endowed with the wisdom of Solomon. Also the heroic spirit of the old King will rest upon him. Thus says the legend.

Fired with the thoughts of treasure and the wisdom of Solomon I arrived at Marangu on December 16, 1978, a small village on the south-west slopes of Kilimanjaro. The base of Kilimanjaro measures 50 by 30 miles in an east-south-east direction. It consists of three major volcanic centres, Kibo 19,349 ft in the centre, Mawenzi 16,890 ft in the east, and Shira 13,140 in the west. Uhuru peak 19340 ft on Kibo, is the highest point in Africa.

Not having any climbing gear and clad only in street clothes when I arrived , I was lucky to be able to borrow a pair of climbing boots from a Bavarian geologist who had fortunately dislocated a shoulder. I hired some warmer clothes from the national park headquarters. I was fortunate finding a local farmer, Valerian, from the Chagga tribe who was keen to accompany me and carry fire wood and water for cooking.

Sign at the Kilimanjaro National Park headquarters/ (note spelling)Valerian, like so many other Chagga, supplements his income by carrying loads, and if required will guide tourists in snow-free-conditions to Gilman;s point on the crater rim.
Living on the slopes of this great mountain the Chagga have a single finite clear focus on their country, a rare thing for African people whose eyes are so often fixed on stretches of undifferentiated bush or desert reaching indctermunatedly to the horizon. This gives the Chagga people a focus, a precise position in a single great mountain which is one of the most naturally fertile in Africa.

I had hoped to have a look perhaps climb one of the more interesting routes on Kilimanjaro but unseasonal weather over the whole of east- Africa had brought snow down to 12,000 feet. The first three days on the normal route is a delightful walk through constantly changing scenery: from 5000ft at Marangu to 15,450ft the last hut on the mountain.

The first day took us through rain forests comprising a variety of trees ferns with brambles and lichens growing in the trunks and branches. Occasionally we saw clusters of orchids, blue monkeys and small frightened birds. Between 8.000 and 12,000 feet the forest gradually changes to Podocarpus Milanjianus family and Hypernicum revolutum community. Around this altitude one meets with the first of three giant groundsels (photo opposite) endemic to Kilimanjaro (Scenico Johnsyonni), sometimes attaining a height of 30 feet.

The following day we emerged onto the upland grasslands. Here the everlasting flowers begin to become conspicuous. These grasslands almost extend to Horombo Hut at 12,299 feet surrounded by heath-like plants. On the third day we passed through alpine bogs dotted with giant Groundsel and giant Lobelia, a large short-lived herb which grows up to 12 feet. This landscape was identical to one I had seen four years earlier when climbing Mt. Ras Dashan in Ethiopia.


Mt.Mawenzi, from the saddle between Mt. Kibo and Mawenzi. Photo: Bob McKerrow

As we proceeded north over the seven miles between Mawenzi and Kibo, much of the distance being a saddle, the vegetation petered out to form an alpine desert. Here few plants survive because of the extremely low rainfall and temperature. The fresh snow had sorted the tourists out from the more adventurous leaving Valerian and I almost alone in the hut. The next morning we left the hut by moonlight at 1.30 am. It took us one and a half hours to reach Hans Meyer Cave which was completely full of snow. I thought of Eric Shipton and Bill Tilman who spent a night here in 1929 on their way to the summit. They also struck waist-deep snow and Tilman suffered from altitude sickness and vomited frequently.

From here on it was a steepish plod on snow-covered scree to Gilman’s Point at the crater rim, which we reached at 5.30 am in time to see a wild African sunrise.

At the crater rim of Kilimanjaro
Valerian heading towards Mt. Kibo. Photo: Bob McKerrowHere the snow was very deep and the frozen crust would just support our weight. After the magnificent sunrise clouds began swirling over over the north-east crater rim as we headed towards Uhuru Peak a mile and a half away. With the rising temperatures we began breaking through the crust into deep powder snow.

The edge of the glacier on the crater rimTo avoid the fresh snow we traversed over a series of small peaks which had less snow an their wind-blown crests. Two hours of wading through waist deep snow, we furrowed ourselves to the summit.



Valerian, a local Chagga farmer, on the summit of Kibo Peak, the highest point on Mt. Kilimanjaro. Photo: Bob McKerrow

Our view down the mountain was obscured by cloud. But we could see the whole crater and surrounds but, because of the thick mantle of snow it looked so different, almost featureless, from previous photographs.
We dug into the four feet of snow which covered the summit and found the plaque installed many years ago which cites a speech of Mwalimu Julius Nyerere on Tanganyika’s independecane in 1961.
I thought of the great King Menelik and his buried treasure on this mountain. I think it best be left on the mountain for greed has already caused enough suffering in Africa.
I spent the last night in Tanzania with Valerian and his family. As happy children and piglets squealed around our feet and beer trickled down our throats, I thought that happiness like this is preferable to treasure.

Footnote: This article was rejected by Colin Monteath editor of the New Zealand Alpine Journal in 1978. Later, that illustrious North Island daily, the Manawatu Standard, published it in its Christmas Edition as a feature, on 24 December 1979.

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Rob Hall's daughter Sarah climbs Kilimanjaro at 15.

MOUNTAINEERS: Jan Arnold and her daughter, Sarah Arnold-Hall, are back from a trip to Africa, which included climbing Mt Kilimanjaro.

Sarah Arnold-Hall, 15, the daughter of New Zealand mountaineer Rob Hall, has climbed the highest peak in Africa, Mt Kilimanjaro, with her mother, Jan Arnold.

The mother and daughter took eight days to climb the 5895-metre peak as part of a three-week trip to Africa last month.

Kilimanjaro is the tallest free-standing mountain in the world and every year an estimated 30,000 people make the arduous, but not technically challenging climb. By comparison, Mt Cook is 3754m.

Sarah, an engaging, confident year 10 student at Waimea College, said the last day of the climb where they climbed through the night was especially tiring and the altitude was tough.

She said she was glad of the help of her Tanzanian guide, Michael, who had sung to her to encourage her to keep going.

Mt. Kilimanjaro: Photo: Bob McKerrow


"I was very tired, I practically sleep-walked up. He was a really big help.

"Someone said the last day is like trying to climb three Empire State Buildings on a 16-degree angle, and on one lung," she said.

When she was 10 she visited Mt Everest's base camp at 5364m, but said she found the extra 500m altitude on Mt Kilimanjaro much harder.

Sarah's father died on Mt Everest nine weeks before she was born. An expedition leader, he was trapped 200m from the south summit of Mt Everest in a deadly storm with a client.

Eight climbers died in that storm and before he died Mr Hall called Dr Arnold in Christchurch via satellite phone telling her not too worry too much and to "sleep well, my sweetheart".

Rob Hall right, with fellow climbers Peter Hillary left, and Gary Ball centre, after their successful ascent of Mt. Everest in 1990. Photo: Bob McKerrow

Sarah's father and his climbing partner, Gary Ball, also climbed Kilimanjaro in 1990 when they climbed the Seven Summits in seven months.

But, as Sarah and Dr Arnold gently imply, the fact she completed the climb is not a cue for reporters to write, as some have done in the past, that Sarah is following in her famous father's footsteps.

Dr Arnold, who climbed Mt Everest in 1993 with Mr Hall, is keen to continue climbing. But Sarah is up-front in that she doesn't necessarily share her parents' love of climbing.

She has her eyes on Paris as her next overseas destination, and among other things would like to see the Eiffel Tower.

"We could climb that," she suggests to her mum, laughing.

Sunrise from the crater rim of Mt. Kilimanjaro. Photo: Bob McKerrow

Sarah says she is interested in fashion and design, but at 15 is still unsure what career she wants to pursue.

 "When I was younger I was really into making things. I always wanted to make robots, I used to make things out of cardboard."
Dr Arnold says Sarah's father was much more than a climber.

"He was a designer and entrepreneur and by age 23 he had 12 people working for him manufacturing tents and packs. He had quite another side to him."

I was delighted to read this story in the Nelson mail as I knew Rob Hall well and admired his feats in the mountains and as a designer of mountain equipment. I also climbed Mt. Kilimanjaro in 1978 and above is a summit shot of Valerian, a Chagga farmer who accompanied me.

Rob Hall's death was tragic but it is such a pleasure seeing his daughter Sarah, who Robb never knew, and her Mother Jan, climbing Kilimanjaro and enjoying life.