The Stars of Kilimanjaro

The Stars of Kilimanjaro

written and narrated by Joseph Ciotti

location: Tanzania — Kilimanjaro Lat: 3o 4’ S Long: 37 o 21’ E

date of summit: 14 Sep 2013

Nightfall in Tanzania had long since cloaked the upper slopes of Kilimanjaro with its frigid darkness. Our final push to the summit had begun soon after midnight. Now at 17,000 feet, with 2,000 still to climb, our camelback water-supplies had frozen solid. Higher up, the headlamps of the advanced hikers acted like machetes cutting switchbacks into the mountain’s scree-covered flank.

As I rested on a narrow outcrop, I slipped into a momentary blackout brought on by the oxygen-starved air. Seconds later, as the pitch-black sky re-focused, my sights were caught by the dazzling blue-white rays of Sirius. Like a faithful companion, the dog star had climbed the sky, steadfast by my side, and now urged us onward for the final trek.

In reality, at this extreme altitude, the canopy of stars over Tanzania had lost much of its luster. Seeing conditions near our first campsite at 9,000 feet were better, though slightly smudged by moisture from the surrounding rainforest. The night’s quite was interrupted only by the hooting calls of the black and white colobus monkeys nesting in the trees.

The second night brought a new dimension to the evening sky. Camping nearly 4,000 feet higher, the darkness challenged even a short stroll across the ice-covered meadowlands of this alpine plateau. Suspended at the sweetspot of the heavens was blue-white Achernar, the ninth brightest star in the evening sky. Achernar now marks the river’s end of Eridanus, whose ordinarily subdued third magnitude stars could now easily be traced along the winding bank of this second longest of constellations. The vast empty sky surrounding Eridanus, with its notable lack of bright naked-eye stars, is now also known to harbor a Super Void of cosmic proportions, where even galaxies are extraordinarily few in number.

Far to the east, springs the river’s source Cursa — which doubles as a footstool for mighty Orion’s Rigel. From here the currents flow past reddish Zaurak the boat, stranded on the sharp bend of the river. Close by basking on the shoreline is Rana the frog, followed by Epsilon, the third nearest of the naked-eye stars. The river then meanders southwest until it reaches Acamar, at one time the river’s end. That was long ago, before precession extended its celestial course farther downstream to Achernar. Directly beneath the twin ends of this celestial river float the Magellanic Clouds, like mirages of some unearthly reflecting pool.

In mythology, Eridanus traces the reckless path that Phaethon took when he lost control of his father’s golden Sun chariot. His wild ride scorched the sky and set the earth on fire. The land smoldered into deserts, seas dried up and the stars around Eridanus dimmed to faint glowing embers. To halt this growing pandemonium, Zeus struck Phaethon with a thunderbolt, plunging him into the River Po that flows through northern Italy.

Others say Eridanus mirrors the life-giving waters of the Nile. With its watch dog Sirius now heeling by my side, I resumed my final climb to the summit.

By dawn, standing at the top of the Africa — surrounded by the cradle of humanity, along with the retreating stars and snows of Kilimanjaro — one exhilarates in a heightened sense of humility: for no mountain is ever conquered. It merely greets its spellbound guests with the prize of joining its majestic history.