There were two common responses to the news that I was planning to climb Mount Kilimanjaro. One was that climbing the world's tallest free standing mountain was not overly hard, and that quite a few people knew of someone who has achieved this very feat. It is not much more than a hard trek, they argued.
The other response was quite the opposite. There is no doubt that, at 19,341 feet, or 5895 metres, Kili represents quite a challenge but to many it seems an almost impossible goal to set. As various messages accompanying donations on my justgiving website proved, plenty of friends and acquaintances considered my aim to scramble my way to the tallest point of Africa to be nothing short of madness. There was no way, they insisted, that they could possibly emulate my plans due to fitness and health considerations.
In almost all cases both sets of people were wrong. For those who form the view that climbing the world's tallest dormant volcano is simple, then the telling statistic that only 40% of all who try each year reach the Kibo summit should remove such complacency. Of the other 60% who fail, some simply cannot maintain the relentless slog of six to up to twelve hours a day of hard trekking, mostly uphill, in ever-changing climactic and geographical conditions, as the temperatures switch from 35 degrees Celsius in tropical Tanzania, to minus 25 degrees Celsius on the still icy summit, and the terrain from jungle to polar. Throw in injuries, landslides, even a rare attack from an animal, and there are plenty of reasons why more fail to conquer Kilimanjaro than succeed.
But the biggest hurdle of all, and the one that so many succumb to, is the high altitude. Altitude sickness, or Acute Mountain Sickness (AMS), hits every single person who heads for the roof of Africa, in varying degrees. In numerous conversations I have been told that the best case scenario is to experience severe headaches but worse cases lead to Cheynes-Stokes Breathing, vomiting and even oedemas, from cerebral to pulmonary, all of which can be life threatening. It can begin as low as 10,000 feet in some cases, but by the summit, everyone still standing is expected to be suffering.
Yet climbing Kilimanjaro is not impossible. Many can climb it if their preparation and mental toughness is strong, and the difficulties presented by the high altitude are kind to the individual.
To give yourself any chance of succeeding you must first acquire not just a degree of general, stamina-based fitness that regular work-outs on exercise bikes and Stepmasters in a gym can provide, but specific fitness required for long-distance walking, and this means doing just that - long-distance walking.
In this sense my work for The Mail on Sunday in recent months had helped me find time to train on some of the most remarkable treks in the world. On tour covering the England rugby team in New Zealand last June, I was able to spend two days hiking in the Southern Alps near South Island's Queenstown, trekking for eight hours each day to the 6,500 foot summit of Ben Lomond, and across the plateau to Arrowtown, through high moorland, past waterfalls and mountain streams, and through valleys until the day turned to night. Good walking boots are essential for this, as are two pairs of socks to help prevent blisters, and plenty of water and energy drinks.
Then, last summer during the Beijing Olympics, I took time out to walk for nearly seven hours on one of the more challenging parts of The Great Wall of China near Simatai, past 42 separate towers, a climb that is virtually uphill from start to finish, and one that never has a flat surface, nor steps the same height as each other.
Since then I completed three to five hour treks three times a week, starting early in the mornings in the North Kent Downs and eating copious amounts of carbs washed down with a Red Bull to keep my energy levels high, until such challenges become commonplace. Although the walks in Africa would be longer and harder because of the conditions, not less the unique demands on the body, it is not the physical demands that concerned me, but the utter randomness in which altitude sickness claims its victims.
Ask Josh Lewsey, the England rugby star who went to K2's base camp last year and contracted a facial oedema at 18,000 feet. Altitude sickness, brought about by climbing too fast and not allowing the body time to acclimatise to the rarified air, often hones in on the very fit, and those aged less than 30 years old. Lewsey was surprised how badly he succumbed to the condition. "It felt like having the worst ever hangover of your life," he recalled. "You are lethargic, desperately sleepy, full of apathy and have a surprisingly low morale. My face blew up in size for a couple of days and I found it one of the toughest experiences of my life."
David Hempleman-Adams, the explorer and adventurer, has climbed Kilimanjaro as part of his successful ascents of the tallest mountains on each of the world's seven continents. You might expect him to dismiss Kili when compared to the likes of Everest, but you would be wrong. "Anybody climbing at high altitude can die," he said. "It's as simple as that. In the case of Kilimanjaro you have to treat it with the utmost respect, otherwise it will bite you hard on your backside. If you get a bad case of altitude sickness then there's only one thing to do: get the hell out of there."
With such words ringing in my ears I contacted Richard Pullan at the London Altitude Centre based in Covent Garden. Pullan, like Hempleman-Adams, has climbed Kilimanjaro and his experiences were, in part, the reason why he established his altitude centre frequented by many top sportsmen and climbers.
"The reason why Kili is bad when it comes to AMS is because it shoots up so rapidly," said Pullan. "The reduced levels of oxygen strain your body, especially your immune system. The enzymes in your stomach don't work as well and digesting is impaired. Avoid dehydration at all costs.
"The bottom line is that the air you breathe on Kili's summit provides half of the oxygen you breathe at sea level, meaning that the body has to work twice as hard."
I borrowed a "Hypoxicator" from Pullan's centre, a portable machine that gushes out controlled air with less oxygen. By strapping the breathing mask to your face you are mimicking breathing in air at higher altitudes. It is not quite the same as being there, but it is supposed to help."
So now it is just a question of taking on Mount Kilimanjaro. I have plenty of miles under my walking boots, and plenty of hours breathing in thinner air, but still I face the coming two weeks with trepidation and no real idea how I will fare. Will the mountain the Masai call the "House of God" be kind to me? Or will AMS choose me as its next hapless victim?
"You will face some very tough times on the mountain," Pullan concluded. "And you will be emotional if you reach the summit. Good luck. You're going to need it."
Ian Stafford was raising money for The Teenage Cancer Trust and The Matt Hampson Trust.
